.
.
.
Well, the bauble is blue anyway.
The woman in the reflections (plural — there are two different reflections; I like the top photo better overall but the bottom one is easier to see) is not.
Because even through the bleak of 2020, there are spots of brightness to be found this holiday.
I hope you’ve found your own bright spots this year, and that your season is filled with color and light.
My husband is a good sport.
No matter that I’m stuck in the menopausal freeze of the Don’tTouchMe libido tundra, he doesn’t take it personally. And – even better – has no retaliatory behavior whatsoever: my own not-into-it-ness does not cause, in him, any sort of backing-away or avoidant tendencies when I decide that even though I may not want to be on the receiving end of his sexual advances at the moment, I most definitely want to put him on the receiving end of mine.
And so it was that he was on the receiving end this morning.
Or, errr… perhaps I should say that his ‘receiving end’ was on the receiving end.
Heh. 😉
Because I started on his arse.
And I started early.
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It’s anticipatory.
Reminiscent.
A reflex action in my not-quite-dream state.
My hand curves just _so_ when I extend it through the graylight veil between sleep and wakefulness, reaching for you.
For a very specific part of you.
Eyes closed, body curled under tousled covers, pillows bunched beneath my head, my hand roams and quests of its own volition, daring the cold of the autumn morning air, seeking your skin.
Seeking —
The heat and throb of dreamy desire, thick and warm in heavy morning arousal, stutter-jumping with your heartbeat against my palm…
The sh-shush and slide, the sharp intake hiss of breath through teeth and shudder-harsh exhale, the thumpthumpthump of blood rushing through my veins, pounding in my ears…
…is not real.
What’s real is the sliver of pre-dawn piercing through the fog of my mind, glaring me awake.
And in my tired-drunk cotton cloud justfivemoreminutes rousing, I realize – drowsily, delightedly – that I am aroused.
It’s like a don’t-tell secret, this realization.
And as I begin my day, I carry the belly-flutter weight of my secret, heavy and low, in the pocket of flesh between my thighs.
The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #136? Start with the rules, come back November 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
Since there were only eight submissions and only two voting judges it doesn’t seem right to have a top three this month. I would like to thank Mrs Fever and Subbee for doing their part.
NOTE from FEVE: I have highlighted my personal favorites in purple. 😉
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
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