My nieces are super into unicorns right now.
Which, given my love for Christmas (and Christmas wrapping paper), meant *I* was super into this particular after-Christmas-SALE bit of sparkly fun:
It’s never too early to start planning for Christmas gifts, I say.
Or to start planning which paper to wrap them in!
The push-stretch pinch of the bulbous glass head pushing past my pubic bone is, for a moment, a sensation I’m not sure I can withstand.
My inhalation is as quick-sharp as his response.
He stills – poised without pressure, pressed in place without pushing – at my hissed intake of breath.
Do we go on? is the unspoken question in his gaze when his eyes meet mine.
Forcing my muscles to relax, one by one, I reshape my hurried insufflation into measured breaths – innn, out; innn, out – and push the small of my back into the lumbar pillow beneath me.
Tentatively, I nod. Regardless of not knowing the measure of their truth, “It’s okay” are the words I give.
And, once he tilts his wrist slightly higher and presses the remaining belled surface past the tense-tight barrier my body has created, it is okay.
It is more than okay.
Ohhh, sooo okay.
Continue readingI try to make it a bit of rule, when presented with a prompt topic that doesn’t ‘click’ for me, to still do something with said topic (beyond saying “___________ do/es nothing for me”). And usually, I am able to figure out an approach to the topic that works. Occasionally a chat with a friend yields something sexy; once in a while, a lover’s offhand comment will bloom into something more in the garden of my imagination; sometimes – though rarely – I find an outlet for my thoughts via a venture into fiction.
I’m afraid none of those avenues are working for me though when it comes to sexy speculations on speculums. Metal clamps meant for inserting into bodily orifices for the purpose of stretching the area where said intrusion takes place, with the goal of performing some kind of medical procedure…
That would be a Hard NO.
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