playing with the plug

After getting home from work, we sat in the den and Sir wanted me to put in my butt plug. I found for just wearing it I needed to have a thong on usually, so I went to change panties. When I came back to the den he wouldn’t let me put my pants back on, and actually ended up having me strip down to nothing but my collar. He attached a leash to my collar. Then directed me to kneel on the floor, where depending on how I sat I was reminded of my ass. I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Remembering to drool a bit for him, I knelt there and sucked his cock. But I wasn’t to fully give him a blowjob as I thought, apparently I was just warming him up. While I still had the plug in, he picked me up, pulled my panties to the side, and while he sat in his chair I sat on his cock and fucked. I made sure to keep the plug in during the process, for he wanted me to feel full, that both holes were filled. I don’t know if I am ready to do that everytime, but it was different since my mind couldn’t focus on just his cock, it was reminded back and forth when we moved just so of the plug. We moved to the bench next to his chair and that was a little easier to keep the plug in at the moment. The experience was fun and interesting, I am trying to do more with the plug for him, I am not as fond of using it up front normally. I think because I got to hold it in instead of him pulsing the plug in my butt with his hand it felt more comfortable for the sex, though I know he likes to play with it so I can’t stop him altogether from doing that. When we were done the plug did end up sliding out and I was not a good girl to put it back in. Maybe next time sir.

News From Around The Blogosphere 9.29.09

1. Egypt out to stop fake virgins -

A leading Egyptian scholar has demanded that people caught importing a female virginity-faking device into the country should face the death penalty.

That just says it all, doesn’t it?

2. R. Crumb’s Bible to be released soon – A while back, I blogged about subversive Cartoonist R. Crumb’s plans to release his own take on the Bible. Well now it’s about to be released:

“I grew to hate the Bible,” he told a press conference for the international launch of “Robert Crumb’s Book of Genesis”, which he called a “gruelling” four year project.

. . .

“The idea of millions of people taking this so seriously is totally nuts,” he added. “The Bible doesn’t need to be satirised. It’s already so crazy.”

3. SGU makes you smarter – My favorite podcast, the Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe, has been named among the 15 podcasts that will make you smarter, according to College Crunch website. Congrats guys!

4. Atheist bus ad goes up in Saskatchewan, Canada – It uses the “Don’t Believe In God? You Are Not Alone” slogan but looks a bit different from the one we’ve all gotten used to.

casting shadows: free story erotic horror (part 3)

Come visit us over at Pen Flourish, the erotica imprint of Drollerie Press. Today, the free erotic horror story, Casting Shadows, concludes, and you may find the climax, although satisfying, is not what you expected.

Erotic horror not your cup of tea? How about a draught of literary erotica? The Green Hour is literary erotica that confounds bad choices with good liquor — and offers a nice helping of Rimbaud on the side.

Casting Shadows: A sensual lover and seasoned killer follows her heart, believing the only way she can overcome temptation is to give into it.

I had been seeing Charlotte for three years, after serendipity transformed an opportunistic hunt into a discussion. During that time, I sometimes imagined consuming her in an orgy of lust or attempting to turn her, as if I might hold onto her forever.

Now, as the ocean appeared like a second star field in motion, its blue depths rippling with black waves, it occurred to me that we don’t live in an ocean of time but only in island moments. More than most people, I could fully live each moment, because that was all I really had. I was immortal, but only Charlotte possessed eternity.

We kissed hesitantly, and she trembled until our awkward touches evolved into an intoxicated harmony of appetites. Her lips clenched mine, and her warm breaths caressed my cheek. I pressed my lips to hers and then spread her mouth to taste her moisture. She slowly dropped to the ground and I followed, until we lay together in the sand some distance from the ocean.  

The fresh scents of her shampoo and perfume couldn’t hide the smell of sweat made sweet by her day in the sun. I kissed the exquisite taste from her cheek and chin and worked my way down.

Cooing my name, she tipped her head back and her breath caught beneath my gentle bites. Saliva spilled from my lips when I realized I had her carotid. My fangs descended and my thoughts scattered. My senses scattered, too, so I was unsure what was most real: the hollow in my stomach, the longing between my legs, or the constriction that made it difficult to breathe. Releasing her throat, I struggled with love so intimately bruising, my chest ached.

I wanted to possess her, to make her love me and no one else. Mine was the love of death–love that accrues, dominates, and controls. The love of life heals and liberates, seeks meaning and connection. This was the love Charlotte possessed, or maybe it possessed her. As I let go of dying circumstances, a new mystery absorbed the world, making my touches about pleasing more than pleasure, but the clarity I cherished was gone from her gaze. That keen-eyed awareness was behind a wall of arousal, which strangely disappointed me.

Sigh. Okay, just face it, on this one I think you are wrong...

So, once again, not about feminism, but rather sex and sex work.  The debate continues on at ND’s, and in it, Faith has become pretty insistent that sex workers do not have a wider range of experiences (as in odd, strange, more straight forward, kinky, whatever) than non-sexworker women…

And I have to say sorry, but I really freakin’ disagree there.  Hell, I run with a twisted and pervy bunch of women, but still…I just think she is flat out wrong on that one.

See, there are a lot of men who specifically seek out sex workers for various fantasies and fetishes because they are either embarrassed to ask their partners about them, know their partners will not go for them, do not wish to be judged for having them, and figure that hey, that being the case, hire a professional.    Also, I think something that is forgotten here is yeah, perhaps younger men, 20-30 somethings and all, might not have too hard of a time finding a partner willing to try out their kinks (many of them anyway), but older guys?  Not so much really.   Society has become less conservative and many people have embraced that…other generations?  Not so much.  An older guy might not feel as though he can find someone to get his kink on with even more so than a younger guy might…so once again, a professional is called in.

And I am just sorta sitting here smirking about it.  Because you know, it isn’t a competition.  If people are happy in their own sex lives, what the hell does in matter how good/bad/diverse/strange/more experienced/less experienced they are than sex workers?  Its almost like the silly meme of Non Sex Workers saying “omg, we have better sex and are a better at sex than sex workers” and sex workers saying “honey, you ain’t got a fucking clue”…  I mean for real, who cares?  If a woman is happy in her fucking, what does it matter?

But see, it is the oddity that gets me.  It’s just odd to me to think that non-sexworkers figure they see as much of the weird and strange of human kinks and fetishes that sex workers see because people specifically go to sex workers to experience these things.  How many dudes go to pro-dommes with all their strange and personalized fantasies because their partners are not into it?  How many guys go to prostitutes because they want to do things their girlfriend/wife  is not down with?  How many people hire professionals because they can’t seem to find amateurs to kink out with?  Answer:  Lots. 

I mean, in my day, I have seen some weird shit.  Guys who will pay to be beaten up (and I mean seriously beaten up), trampled, pissed on, puked on, have their body hair ripped out, demeaned, degraded, humiliated, forced to lick out toilet bowls, anally fisted, roleplay out rape fantasies with another dude, jacked with a cattle prod, pierced, choked, wrapped up almost completely in Saran Wrap and kicked in the nuts.  Guys who want a sex worker to sit in cold water and ice then play dead.  Guys who want to rough up the professional, piss on, slap, hair pull and play out rape fantasies with her.  Guys who want to play the dead body part.  Dudes who want to wear diapers.  Dudes who want to pretend to be schoolboys.  Dudes who want to pretend to be women, or prisoners, or animals.  Dudes who want to lick you feet or anus for an hour…or just listen to you talk about all the other weird requests you get. 

And yeah, I am sure there are non sex worker people out there in real life who engage in or have experienced some or more of these fetishes….but all of them?  Sometimes fairly regularly?

For some reason, I think not.   And people are gonna have a hard time convincing me otherwise.

L.A., plai cu boi

Bine ati venit in L.A., orasul unde femei si barbati de succes, bogati si trecuti de prima tinerete, isi “cumpara” si intretin jucarii sexuale sub forma unor fete si baieti cu chipuri dragute si trupuri fresh, care viseaza la o viata de huzur obtinuta fara munca. Aceasta este premisa filmului Spread, marketat la noi intr-un mod care n-are nicio legatura cu realitatea. Atat traducerea titlului (Playboy de L.A.), cat si sinopsisul publicat prin reviste si site-uri de specialitate, care sustine ca e vorba de “o comedie spumoasa”, te pot face sa crezi ca e un film usurel, o comedie romantica in care il vei vedea dezbracat pe Ashton Kutcher. Nimic mai neadevarat (in afara de faptul ca da, il poti vedea foarte dezbracat pe Ashton Kutcher. Foarte, foarte dezbracat, pe el si pe protagoniste).

Spread nu e o comedie. Cel putin eu nu am ras la nicio faza, si nu pentru ca eram intr-o dispozitie proasta, ci pentru ca filmul a fost chiar serios, cel putin in a doua jumatate. Pe scurt, Nikki (Kutcher) e un boy toy, un baiat gigea care agata doamne singure si generoase, le suceste mintile cu conversatii spumoase si lupte pasionale corp la corp, apoi se instaleaza frumusel la ele acasa si se bucura de viata de lux, mese la restaurante scumpe si haine de firma. Insa in afara de fizicul superb, Nikki este mai gaunos decat o nuca seaca, nu a muncit nicio zi in viata lui, n-are nimic in afara de hainele de pe el si nu prea are nimic nici in cap. Filmul ni-l prezinta in momentul cand este intretinut de Samantha (Anne Heche, intr-o forma de zile mari), o tipa bogata care il rasfata din toate punctele de vedere. El insa nu numai ca nu apreciaza ce i se ofera, dar nu-i arata niciun pic de respect, organizand petreceri cand ea nu e acasa si inseland-o in fiecare zi cu alta femeie. Tocmai cand se crede on top of the world, Nikki cunoaste o chelnerita, Heather (Margarita Levieva, o figura noua pe ecrane, cel putin pentru mine), care se comporta cu totul altfel decat femeile pe care le cunoaste el: nu pare impresionata de farmecul lui, il refuza si il ia peste picior incontinuu, iar cand in sfarsit accepta sa iasa cu el, pleaca in mijlocul cinei. Evident, Nikki decide ca o vrea pe ea si numai pe ea si chiar renunta la relatia cu Samantha. 

Problema e ca Heather nu este o chelnerita inocenta si seducatoare in mod natural, ci este o girl toy, ca si el, care s-a folosit de tactici de cucerire pentru a-i lua mintile. Din momentul acestei descoperiri, care coincide cu parasirea Samanthei, Nikki intra intr-o criza existentiala majora, in care toata lumea ii tranteste usa-n nas, nu mai are nicio sursa de bani si trebuie sa decida ce sa faca mai departe cu viata lui: sa continue pe calea cea usoara si superficiala, sau sa-si ia un job decent si sa-si permita “luxul” de a se indragosti cu adevarat? Finalul este oarecum dezamagitor daca va asteptati la un happy ending tipic de comedie romantica, insa pe de alta parte se poate spune ca este un sfarsit fericit daca-l privim prin prisma schimbarii pe care Nikki decide sa o faca.

“Spread”-ul de care pomeneste filmul are multe posibile traduceri – in argou poate sa insemne “petrecere, chef”, iar ca verb, “a-si da aere, a o face pe nebunul”. Dar are si semnificatia de “intindere, desfasurare” si cred ca a vrut sa sugereze ideea cuiva care s-a intins mai mult decat i-a fost plapuma. In orice caz, titlul romanesc “Playboy de L.A.” suna ca un fel de “Cocalar de Rahova” si denota nivelul de cultura si inteligenta al persoanelor care s-au ocupat de distributie si care s-au temut, probabil, ca oamenii nu vor dori sa vada un film cu Ashton Kutcher care nu e o comedie romantica.

Ar mai fi destule reflectii personale pe marginea acestui film, dar m-as indeparta de la ideea de cronica cinematografica. Pot doar sa spun ca m-a intristat modul in care au ajuns sa fie tratate relatiile interumane la anumite nivele ale societatii (nu cred ca filmul e pura fictiune, ci oglindeste o realitate cat se poate de prezenta in orase precum L.A. si nu numai). Oameni care-si iau un partener de locuit cum si-ar lua un catel, iar de cealalta parte oameni care spera sa aiba totul in viata fara niciun pic de efort… Un cerc vicios intretinut de ambele parti, din care scapa cine poate si mai ales cine vrea.  

Basic Instinct -- Part 2

The instinct to reproduce collides head-on with the overpowering female’s newly acquired knowledge of not reproducing. The male’s reasoning concludes that his female does not love him or want him, culminating in a shut-down of his desire to reproduce with her.  It doesn’t have to be verbal on the woman’s part, but can simply be communicated to the man by her wearing a patch, taking the pill, her demanding he use a condom, or causing him to pull-out. There are many other ways a man detects the unwillingness of his female to reproduce, not the least of which is seeking him for sex.

When the woman refuses to reproduce the male, it drives him to subconsciously seek other women for purposes of reproduction.  Yet, in today’s world, this male is seen as and labeled a womanizer or a whoremonger, while he is actually the victim of an unscrupulous society forcing unnatural laws on him, which force him into conflict with his own built-in instincts.

Men are also prone to inflict their misguided knowledge upon women, willing to allow their female instincts to dictate reproduction, by not allowing the female to produce children.  Men’s reasons are also many, the least of which is children cost too much money.  Other reasons include the male’s only reason for marrying are: to have a live in female for sexual use only; adding a female by marriage for the purpose of increasing his available income; to have a female because she was the only female that would have ever slept with him; to cover-up his being a homosexual; to trade his female with other men for the use of their females; to sell his female to other men; to be a mother to them; to be their own personal live-in maid… and on – and on – and on!

The entire problem can be reduced to its singular source, which is the fertilization of the female human egg or the necessity for reproduction.  The male and female of all species are instinctually designed for this one act so life can continue.  The necessity for reproduction forces us to realize that basic instincts #1 and #2, namely

1.   The instinct to survive, and
2.   The instinct to find food and water

are actually integral parts of the composite instinct #3 to reproduce the human race.

This then reduces the entire meaning of life to one singular instinct and only one reason for living, the reproduction of the human race; and anything that interrupts or tries to supplant this essential act undermines the course of all good human behavior, resulting in bad behavior of every degree.

Males and females do not know why they are driven to think and act.  They do not have a clue to the essential reason their own behavior at times disturbs them.  Ancient man didn’t understand this essential behavior either, but over thousands of years learned as he progressed. He learned the female could not be trusted to think and act by herself.  So societies around the world developed by imposing strict laws governing the human female’s actions.

Once Mankind released the human brain to add information and knowledge, the problems created would become insurmountable: demanding thousands of remedies and laws added to the game of life for human beings. This is the reason all human beings on earth realize our societies do not work, which only bring misery and loss no matter what race, color, creed, class or the geographical location of a person’s nation.

Some of older societies still linger today, trying to impose ancient remedies on female behavior.  One such community is the Muslim peoples.  In the more antiquated countries like Algeria, women are literally imprisoned in their own homes in a vain attempt to control their behavior.  Another is China, which has imposed the deliberate destruction of a woman’s reproductive organs to reduce her ability to have more than one child. The greatest offender was Ancient Rome, whose laws are still affecting today’s Western nations.  The ancient Roman Empire imposed laws limiting men to one woman: thus, reducing the number of children born in one family by reducing the number of women available to one man.

No matter what solution imposed by nations upon the human race, the societies may limit reproduction, but the destructive consequences range from abuse to serial killers.  The mentality of an entire nation teaches women that lies to deceive and convince women to stop reproducing because it is necessary to preserve their standard of living or by using religion to limit men’s natural instincts.  Whether or not this is taught directly or indirectly is of no importance.  The results shout that Mankind has interfered with the natural order of things, creating a zoo of crime, disease, misery, and untold bad results.

To be continued…

Links : Said in Bed

Do you remember in my guide to breaking up I said you should tell them while having sex?  If you ever do, this would be the site to post your story.  Said in Bed is a site with quotes before, after, or during sex.  I had this idea pillow talk might  be some sweet exchange of words.  Turns out I’m still not missing much.  It hasn’t been updated in months, but it’s still worthy for some chuckles.

http://saidinbed.com/

Iubirile copiilor morti

Femeile pe care le cunosc au dus ofranda iubirii cate un copil mort.  Au dedicat zbaterii fecunde a barbatului spaima trupului lor, iar iubirea a trecut prin ele ca un controlor de tren ce composteaza bilete, lasand in urma doar gauri. Nu stiu cum e, probabil n-am iubit destul nici cat sa vreau nici cat sa nu vreau, pentru el, sa-mi schilodesc trupul sau viata, dupa caz. Dar voi, doamnelor, curvelor, n-ati putea inceta sa mai fiti doamne, si sa va scociorati trupul dupa niscaiva maruntis, iar la sfarsit, pe cearsafurile mototolite sa aruncati cateva orgasme, fie ele si marunte, ca la curvele ieftine? De ce sa va chinuiti asa, canibalic? De ce va mancati dragostea la micul dejun cu chiureta? De ce nu inghititi, doamnelor?E mai simplu si mai romantic, decat un fetus pervers care va ingrasa tot restul vietii cu regrete, pe care le veti consuma zilnic, cu paiul sau cu picatura chinezeasca?  Invatati sa o sugeti, va zic. Asta e dovada iubirii, cand o sugi cu sufletul, nu cu gura, cand daruiesti trupul tau intreg, nu gaurit ca un svaitzer mult prea scump pentru cumparatorul obisnuit de branza. Credeti-ma , va fi mult mai apreciat.Nu mai daruiti doamnelor, curvelor, gauri, daruiti din prea plinul trupului, si al sufletului si inzecit veti primi inapoi. Zic.

The Ethereal Stones - chapter 6

Joelnar and Rafe directed the wyverns the group was using to land amidst the trees near the Forest of Reflections, the Aurisens’ home. At first the wyverns seemed hesitant, but after circling several times, they finally found a space large enough to accommodate their wings, so could comply with their riders’ command. The beasts gently touched down, emitting a soft grunt as they did, then folded their wings back as they settled in to wait for their riders’ next command.

Once everyone had dismounted, Rafe and Joelnar sent the beasts back to the castle. They didn’t want any of d’Oessler’s men finding the Forest of Reflections because they had allowed the wyverns to linger here. Meanwhile, Marek had found a small depression near the root of one of the larger trees, and was piling his weapons there. Joelnar and Rafe added their weapons to his, then they covered all of them with leaves and sticks. They would have preferred to wrap the weapons in some oiled cloth or other type of protection from the elements, but they could only hope that the scabbards and sheaths would protect the blades for the short time that the weapons would be out here. They had learned the hard way, that weapons couldn’t pass the barrier into the Forest of Reflections, therefore, they had to leave them out here.

One of the last things they did was to pile several rocks together to indicate where they had left the weapons so they could more easily retrieve them when their business inside the Forest of Reflections was finished. That done, they all walked through the dome of light, which indicated the boundaries of the Forest of Reflections, and entered the Aurisen home.

Joelnar was immediately hugged by an anxious Phessari, who was waiting for them as they entered. “I was so worried about you,” she stated quietly. “I am so glad you are back safely.”

Joelnar held Phessari close, relishing the way her curves fit in his arms, “We’re fine, but we’re not so sure about Danaria,” he commented.

Phessari pulled back just enough so she could see Joelnar’s face, “What do you mean?”

He released her from his embrace, “It means we probably need to speak with the Ethereals,” he tugged at the too small collar of the uniform, “but not until I change into something else.”

Marek laughed, “You look like a man attending his own joining ceremony, the way you keep tugging on that collar.”

“Trust me, I will squirm less then, than I do now,” responded Joelnar.

Phessari teased Marek back, “Let us see how well you do on our joining day, dressed in your uniform of leadership.”

It was Marek who now squirmed, and Rafe and Joelnar chuckled at his discomfiture. Marek had promised Joelnar and Phessari earlier that he would do the joining ceremony for them, and Joelnar knew how much that promise meant to Phessari. But Joelnar also knew how, as warlord, Marek was more a man of action, so didn’t really care for the pomp and circumstance required for a joining ceremony.

Rafe threw in his own comment, “I personally can’t wait to change clothes, either. Only it’s not the fit that troubles me, it’s the uniform itself,” he plucked at the insignia on the sleeve. “I hope I never have to wear this hideous thing again.”

Joelnar looked over at Rafe, “I know what you mean. Maybe we should have our own ceremony. A freedom ceremony and we’ll burn these,” he pointed at the uniforms they wore.

“Sounds good to me,” Rafe agreed.

*****

They all headed toward one of the larger pavilions that the Aurisens had let them use while they were in the Forest of Reflections. The tented structure was divided into sleeping chambers, as well as one large central chamber where the companions took their meals and made their plans. The central chamber was filled with cushions for sitting or lounging, and several low tables, which always seemed to contain pitchers of fresh, cold water and bowls with delicious fruits and nuts.

Rafe and Joelnar went into the sleeping chamber they shared with Marek, to change out of the windrider uniforms. The others headed for the central chamber.

“So, did you get the key?” Phessari asked Neerah and Marek.

“Yes, but unfortunately we were not able to bring d’Oessler out to face a tribunal where he could admit to what he has done,” Marek replied standing near one of the tables and reaching for a piece of fruit.

“We’ll never be able to clear Darkwind’s name if we can’t capture d’Oessler,” Neerah stated angrily, plopping down on some cushions.

“Did he get away, then?” Phessari questioned, as she delicately sat on one of the purple- and rose-colored cushions.

“Not exactly,” Neerah sighed, “He fell into a vortex, and when he came back out he was so strong we couldn’t defeat him. Of course, it didn’t help that we couldn’t stop squabbling, either,” and she eyed Marek.

Phessari looked puzzled, and probably would have asked more questions, but Rafe and Joelnar came into the room just then.

“Maybe we should ask the Ethereals,” Joelnar was saying.

“You think they’ll know?” Rafe asked.

“Ask them what?” Neerah queried, breaking into their conversation.

“Ask them if they know anything about closing the gateway and keeping that XirRoq thing from coming into our world,” Joelnar answered.

Phessari looked worried as well as confused, “What gateway, and what’s a ‘XirRoq thing’?”

“Did you require something?” Lillith of Mooncloud, one of the Aurisens that had been helping the companions, came into the central room of their pavilion.

Rafe went to pour himself something to drink, while Joelnar merely said, “We got the key.”

“Shall we go then to release the souls?” She started to turn away, but sensing no one making a move to follow her, she stopped. Turning back to Joelnar she asked, “Was there something else?”

Joelnar cleared his throat as if in preparation to speak, but it was Neerah who blurted out, “There’s something we need to talk to the Ethereals about.”

Mooncloud looked confused, “You wish to speak with all of us?”

“Uhh…no,” Joelnar replied, “What she meant was that we need to speak to the Numinousens.”

“And you would do this now?” She looked at Joelnar, then at each of the others questioningly.

“No,” Joelnar shook his head, “that’s not necessary,” he spoke for everyone. “I think it can wait until after we release the enslaved souls.”

“Very well,” Mooncloud responded. Turning toward to exit the pavilion, she beckoned them to follow her.

Phessari and Neerah got to their feet, as Marek walked to the entry of the pavilion. Joelnar waited for Phessari, and Rafe put the glass of water he had been sipping back on the table. When they got outside, Mooncloud was waiting for them. As a group, they followed the meandering path through the Aurisens’ gardens, which led to the Keeper of the Sanctuary orb and pedestal.

Joelnar noted how much the Forest of Reflections had changed since the Aurisens had returned. The flowers and gardens seemed so much more vibrant and the bird calls much more musical. Also, the sky inside the dome of light was no longer a plain gray. Now, it imitated the world outside, by mimicking day and night—although Joelnar had found that a single Danarian day and night was equal to somewhere around two or three days (and nights) in the Forest of Reflections. Yet, instead of feeling as if the days were speeding by, time spent in the Forest of Reflections seemed slow-paced and easy.

*****

When they got to the pedestal, Phessari watched Mooncloud remove the Keeper of the Sanctuary orb, then accept the black pouch that Joelnar had gotten from d’Oessler.  She opened the pouch and removed a tubular-shaped crystal. Carefully, she placed the clear crystal, pointed end down, in the center of the pedestal.

“I will invoke the crystal, releasing those souls trapped by the creator of this key. Those whose bodies are still alive will be drawn back to them by a guiding light or thread. However, those whose bodies are no longer alive, will be directed here, to this key,” she explained.

She looked at each of the companions in turn to make sure that they understood, before she asked, “Who will be responsible for directing the lost ones to their next destination?”

Eyes and heads swiveled as the group looked at each other. It was Phessari who took one step forward, “I will, if you tell me what I need to do.”

“Those without bodies will remain here in this world, lost. They do not know that they are dead since they were not connected with the body when it died. Therefore, they are unable leave until they are told that they need to move on, and shown where to go,” Mooncloud explained.

“Where do they go?” Rafe asked.

“To the transitional plane,” Mooncloud responded. “When someone following the path of physical life, dies, they must transition between the life just ended and their next choices.

“For some souls the life just ended is their last one, so they move on to something else, such as another plane of existence. For others, more lives are wanted or needed, so they must decide what type of life they want. Then, while they wait for the appropriate circumstances to come together for them, they can contemplate some of their previous experiences. When everything is the way they want it, then they leave the transitional plane and take on a new life.”

“How do I direct them to this transitional plane?” Phessari queried.

“Use this,” Mooncloud handed Phessari an iridescent orb about the size of a large marble. “Direct the lost ones to touch it, and it will direct them to where they need to go.”

Phessari nodded, and Rafe reached out a finger to touch the small orb, “Interesting,” he muttered, “it feels tingly and cold.”

No one seemed to have any more questions, so Mooncloud placed her hands above the key and began a slow musical chant. None of the companions could really discern any words to her chanting. It seemed to be just a series of tones that she sang. The inside of the key began to glow and with every change in pitch, the color of the light would change. It shifted from clear, to white, to blue, purple, red, orange, yellow, green, and then cycled through again.

As she increased the rapidity of the chant, the key began to echo her. Finally, the tones coming from Mooncloud and the key joined and became one. The glow of the key became a cascading rainbow, shifting in rhythm with the tones. The tones and colors were mesmerizing and the companions had to force themselves to look away.

When the first misty creature appeared, everyone except Mooncloud was startled and took a step backward. The features of the specter were blurry and soft, but recognizable as a face. The bewildered eyes stared around at the companions looking extremely forlorn.

Phessari stepped forward again, and held out her palm with the small orb in it. “You need to move on now,” she spoke compassionately to the misty image before her. The specter’s eyes seemed to stare beseechingly into hers, and she tried again, “Your life here is done. You must now move on.” She held out the orb encouragingly, “Please touch this and it will help you find your way.”

The misty image reached out a spectral hand, which the orb passed through. A brilliant beam of white light speckled with gold flowed from the top of the specter’s head upward toward the heavens.

The specter smiled and began to fade into the light, it flowed higher, growing indiscernible from the light beam around it. As it rose higher, the light flowed with it until neither the soul nor the light was visible any more.

Phessari repeated this task at least a hundred times before growing weary. Sometimes there was one soul, other times there would be many, but they always disappeared in a bright beam of light.

Eventually Neerah took over so Phessari could rest. The whole group was aghast at how many of the soul-enslaved people had been killed. Neerah did at least a hundred, before she passed the orb onto Marek.

No one had any trouble until Marek was doing the directing. Then one specter came through the key, but refused to touch the orb or leave. It was as if there was something that it wanted or needed, but without a body, it had trouble communicating its need to them.

It finally drifted over to Neerah, where it hovered in front of her. Like a gentle breeze, it moved the tendrils of curls that decorated Neerah’s forehead. Then it placed one of its spectral hands against her lips. When Neerah met the specter’s eyes, she knew who it was. She whispered, “Marmian?”

The specter cupped Neerah’s cheeks with both hands, and smiled.

Neerah whispered, “I love you, Marmian.”

The specter released her and floated back over to Marek where it touched the orb in his hand. Then it disappeared in a beam of light.

The task was eventually passed back to Phessari. Joelnar and Rafe didn’t participate because it was felt that their windrider appearance might be too upsetting. So, they stayed in the background where they hoped none of the lost souls would notice them.

The cycling glow in the key began to slow and fade, as the last of the lost souls was directed to the transitional plane. Phessari was a bit fatigued, and they were all a little depressed and exhilarated at the same time. It had been an interesting yet disheartening experience to see so many ruined and lost lives.

*****

Although, tired and somewhat disheartened, they still needed to meet with the Numinousens as soon as possible, to discuss the open gateway and the possibility of XirRoq coming through. Therefore, they waited as Mooncloud swapped the now depleted key crystal with another sphere. The crystal she placed on the pedestal now, was similar to the one that Joelnar carried, and which lets him contact the Ethereals or open the fold of space in which they lived.

Mooncloud placed her hands around the small, clear globe as it sat on the pedestal. She focused all her attention on the globe, and soon the sphere began to glow with a blue-white light. The glow grew brighter and larger, until it encompassed the pedestal and Mooncloud. A beam of light was emitted from the sphere creating a wavering image of a path lined with trees. They could see some large crystal domes at the end of the path. Joelnar and a trepidatious Phessari stepped through the image finding themselves on the path with the trees and looking back at the others who were still standing around the pedestal. Neerah stepped through next, followed by Rafe and then Marek.

They walked toward the domes, and entered the first one they came to. As Joelnar led Phessari into the domed world of the Ethereals, Phessari stopped and stared in amazement. Luminescens soared above them, frolicking like children. The dome itself was filled with wonderful chords and musical sounds. Rafe also stood spellbound by the majesty and mystery of it.

He whispered to Neerah, “Is this heaven? Are we dead?”

She smiled, remembering her first time and shook her head, “We’re not dead, but it’s very much like heaven.”

Yarrie, one of the Numinousens, a being comprised of golden light and music, entered the dome accompanied by several Luminescens. He floated over to them, since Numinousens only had a vague humanoid shape. He gave each companion a hug, enveloping them in his golden glow. When he hugged Phessari, he lingered a moment before releasing her. Then he looked at Joelnar and Phessari, studying them, before speaking. “So, you found that which was needed to free you from that bubble of space.”

“Yes, and I truly thank you for the wisdom you offered me, then and always,” Joelnar replied.

Yarrie bowed his head, then turned to Phessari and, speaking so only she and Joelnar could hear, said, “You must use caution when dealing with this shape-shifter, for the child within you is very special indeed.

“The child creates a block around you, which prevents XirRoq from possessing you. However, this child cannot protect you or itself from being consumed by XirRoq.”

Phessari gasped and placed her hands protectively over her abdomen. She hastily looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but they were all either whispering to each other or gaping at their surroundings.

At that moment, Lail waved everyone into the next room where cushions and refreshments awaited them. The group entered the room, but Phessari and Joelnar hung back to question Yarrie further, “Do you think this creature will seek me out? After all, the Globe of Souls no longer exists,” Phessari asked.

“That is true. However, this is a creature that feeds on resonance and energy. It relishes the destruction of what you would term positive energy, and does, therefore, seek these energies most vigorously. Your being is of a very strong positive nature. You also carry within you a strong power with the potential for being either positive or negative. To allow this creature to usurp the choice would be ill advised. For he would, given the chance, seek to either corrupt that resonance and energy within you or consume it,” Yarrie chanted.

Phessari clutched Joelnar’s hand, as Yarrie spoke.

“This creature, it can’t hurt her if it’s still on the other side of the vortex, can it?” Joelnar’s concern for Phessari was very apparent.

“Once through the gateway, the creature is very powerful, but then so is Phessari. If it is in human form, its abilities are lessened, as any soul’s would be, for pure energy is always strongest in its natural form. However, the amount of diminishment only decreases the radius of his energies to approximately one of your miles, if unfocused. Phessari and her child are safe, then, as long as they remain outside this radius, but it knows her resonance pattern, and that creates a vulnerability in her. We would, therefore, recommend not, that she in any way seek out this creature,” Yarrie trilled.

“What do you mean unfocused?” Joelnar inquired.

“If he is not directing his energy toward a specific goal, but simply allowing it to be, his reach then is approximately one of your miles. If, however, he focuses his energies toward a specific goal, we do not know how far reaching he might be,” Yarrie answered.

“Will Phessari be safe if she returns to her village?” Joelnar asked worriedly.

“As safe as anyone if XirRoq does roam Danaria,” Yarrie warbled. “For XirRoq has been here before, so knows many tricks and beguilements. However, we would think she would be safest within the Forest of Reflections, for it lies on a convergence of positive energies. This combined with the piece of the Ethereal stone that resides there, makes it the most steadfast of places even against one such as XirRoq.”

Joelnar and Phessari looked at one another with a quiet understanding, before Yarrie led them into the next room. Joelnar and Phessari found a seat near the others, and Yarrie glided over to where Lail and Strill were hovering.

“So if XirRoq does come through the gateway, how do we send him back?” Rafe queried as the others joined them.

“As a being of energy, will he be nearly impossible for you to overcome,” explained Yarrie. “He is negative energy personified. He enjoys converting and subjugating all that is good into a polarization of all that Danaria considers bad. He represents one extreme in the energy and resonance spectrum, an extreme that those on Danaria consider bad or evil. His energies swirl opposite that which most Danarians consider normal. People will find their negative traits exacerbated when he is near. Without a protective energy around you will you find yourselves fighting and hurting each other, instead of him.

“Only a positive energy equal to or greater than XirRoq’s own negativity can nullify him or send him back through his own gateway.

“He is drawn to all energies, but primarily those of a strong positive or neutral power. Therefore, the individual Ethereal stone pieces will draw him because they are extremely positive energies.”

“What are these Ethereal stone pieces?” Neerah asked.

“These are three pieces of the purest positive energies on Danaria. One piece resides in the Forest of Reflections, while the other two reside with those who no longer consider themselves part of us,” Lail responded.

“Part of whom? Part of Danaria?” Marek inquired.

“Although the Aerisens and Aquarians are a part of Danaria, they consider themselves separate from all other races, including that of the Ethereals,” sang Lail.

“We met the Aerisens,” Neerah chimed in. “They were the ones that directed us back to the Forest of Reflections so that those in the Globe of Souls could be saved.”

“Why is it you never spoke of them?” Joelnar asked quietly.

“We spoke not of those who had, at one time, decided to sever their relationship with this plane of existence. For they felt our presence in their lives inhibiting and interfering. Therefore, to name them Ethereals would have been a disservice to their wishes,” responded Lail.

“Do you think they will return to accepting you now?” Neerah asked.

“We cannot say, for it is their decision. We can only let them know that we will always be here should they ever need us,” Yarrie, Strill and Lail sang together.

“Each of these groups—Aurisen, Aerisen, and Aquarian, does hold one piece of the Ethereal stone, which is needed to close the gateway,” Strill chanted.

“That the starstone did initiate the gate, is true. However, this same energy will not close it,” Yarrie chimed. “The gate needs to be closed and, if XirRoq has entered Danaria, does he need to be sent back. This can only be done through the use of that which is most positive—the Ethereal stone. Each group must choose to allow their piece of the Ethereal stone be used. The pieces must be united into the one Ethereal stone. For it is only through the power of this one stone, and those who first opened the gateway that XirRoq can be vanquished and the gateway closed.”

“I tried to close it,” Neerah offered, “I didn’t mean to make it worse by using the starstone.”

“That you increased it, is true, but the creature within would have done so on his own. There is no cause for blame, for XirRoq did reach out and trigger those emotions within you to make you use the starstone,” Yarrie continued.

“To close the gate do you need the energies of three and two combined in one. For only through the combining of all energies will the gate be closed,” Lail answered.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Neerah tossed up her hands.

“Three energies of a positive nature, combined into one resonance crystal wielded by two, who are as one. Their energies must blend. They must balance both yin and yang, as well as positive and negative, until there is no difference between their energies. For only a blended being of balance can use the Ethereal stone to remove XirRoq from your world and seal the gateway,” replied Strill, looking directly at Neerah.

“You are not in balance nor are you blended, so as great as the danger is in leaving the gateway open, it cannot yet be closed,” Yarrie stated.

“But I’ve been doing the energy and resonance balancings like you taught me,” Neerah asserted.

“This body is balanced, yes, but the full being is not. For to fully balance the being that you are, must you also balance what you have done, thought, and said, with what you will do, think and say. Look to the past to know your future. You are a multi-level being, but you have only balanced one level—the physical being of Neerah. You have not balanced the spiritual being that is a blending of all those beings you have been and will be. You must blend all the levels that comprise you into one being.”

“How do I do this?” Neerah queried.

“To understand the present, must you sometimes understand your past. To reconcile the lessons and the imbalances must you have understanding. To that end, can we show you the past, but you will need to invoke your own memories at key points to truly understand. For your own memories will give you the emotional impact and reasoning behind your actions. It is through the intensity of the remembered emotions that the lessons will become clearest.”

“How can I possibly do all that before the open gateway destroys Danaria?” a distraught Neerah inquired.

“We could use the Pyramid of Echoes,” said Yarrie more to the other Numinousens than to Neerah. “It contains a record of every thought, every action, every event that ever occurred on Danaria. Through its use can you re-experience who you have been and what you have done, so that you may gain understanding and insight into your choices. For once you have seen the how and why of the creation of an imbalance, can you more easily understand what is needed to correct it.”

“How does it work?” Neerah asked hesitatingly, the whole concept frightened her just a little and seemed somewhat overwhelming.

“We do not say it will be easy, for lessons rarely are,” Lail sang, “however, you would need to remain with us for awhile. The Pyramid of Echoes places you inside an event both as observer and as participant, and allows you to once again feel all those sensations and emotions that you did originally when the event occurred. As a participant, you will know exactly how you felt and why, what you were thinking and why you reacted as you did. However, since you are also an observer to these events, you will more easily see and understand the other choices that were available. For once you see what choices you made, and what other choices could have been made can you more easily understand the lessons. Once the lessons are understood by all those who share in the experience, then can the imbalance be cleared.”

“Sounds very much like those dreams the gods gave us when we were at the oasis,” Marek stated.

Neerah nodded, still looking rather worried.

“Do you wish to try this?” Yarrie asked.

“I guess so,” Neerah agreed.

“You stated that the Aurisens, Aerisens and Aquarians each had a piece of this Ethereal stone,” Phessari began, “will they allow these pieces to be blended into one stone?”

“That is a task that we must leave to you,” and Lail looked at Joelnar, Rafe, Phessari and Marek.

“You want us to go around and ask these folks if we can have their piece of the stone?” Rafe asked feeling a bit astonished.

“It requires more than just having the pieces of the Ethereal stone. For to unite the pieces of the stone, a member of each race—Aerisen, Aurisen and Aquarian—must be present. Each representative needs to be there willingly showing their accord to Danaria as a whole, or the pieces will not unite,” replied Strill.

The room was filled with silence as each person thought about the tasks ahead. Finally, Lail broke the silence by asking, “Are there no further questions?”

“Actually, Lail, I do have some questions,” Joelnar interjected.

“As do I,” remarked Marek.

“Then, please, ask us,” Lail smiled.

“If this XirRoq does enter Danaria and he can shift his shape to make him look like anyone, how can we tell which person is XirRoq?” Marek questioned.

“You must see their auras. A true human aura consists of seven layers working together to create the person that is you, but although he creates the illusion of a human form, he will have no aura. As a being of energy, his aura will not exist, because the human form you see is not real, it is just an illusion.”

“So, if we don’t see an aura on someone, we can be fairly certain that it is XirRoq,” Joelnar said.

“That is correct,” sang Lail.

“Can he take on the form of anything and anyone?” asked Phessari.

“He can only take on the form of those beings and creatures that he has absorbed the energies of,” chimed Strill.

“I am not sure I understand what you mean,” Phessari replied.

“What we refer to as energies, you do also refer to as soul,” Yarrie chanted. “He uses these energies as his blueprint in creating the false image. Therefore, can he only absorb the energies of those creatures that are sentient. In your world that would be humans, Aurisens, Aerisens, and Aquarians.”

The companions nodded, then Joelnar asked his question, “How do we find these Aquarians so that we can ask them about borrowing their piece of the Ethereal stone.”

“We can give you little in regards to where on Danaria they dwell, for we no longer maintain a contact with them, as is their choice. However, we can provide you the means of contacting them once you have found where they dwell. We will warn you, though, that they are not predisposed to helping humans, for they have little regard or love of those who live exclusively on Danaria’s surface,” Lail lamented.

“The Aquarians live beneath your Coral Sea, near the Magnetic Isles,” Yarrie chimed, then handed Joelnar a small, blue orb. “Using this will create a bubble in which the holder may travel to the depths below the water’s surface without fear of drowning. For there is where you need to be to contact those called Aquarian.”

“Doesn’t that sound like fun,” muttered Rafe, then had the good graces to look very sheepish.

Neerah, who had remained rather quiet, now asked a question of her own, “Is there any other way to destroy or banish this XirRoq besides using the Ethereal stone?”

“If someone could create a positive energy equal to that of the negative energy possessed by XirRoq, would XirRoq be nullified.”

Neerah nodded, but Phessari caught the change in terms, “You said nullified, not destroyed.”

“Which is what we meant. For it would create a balanced resonance and energy no longer harmful to anyone. Be aware, however, that any such approach would not retain a permanent effect upon this being, for he turns all energy into that which is, to those existing in Danaria, negative. So, while he would be nullified at first, it would remain in effect only as long as it took him to transform the energies.

“Energy cannot be destroyed. It can only be changed into something else. Just as none of you or us can ever be completely eradicated, neither can he. He can be changed, he can be moved, but he cannot cease to be.”

“What do you mean none of us can be completely eradicated?” Rafe asked a cocky grin on his face, “Are we something special?”

“Everyone is something special,” replied Strill, “because everyone is unique.”

“You are all energy and resonance, just as we are. However, you chose to change part of your resonance and energy into a form called a physical body. You use this body to experience life in a corporeal existence. When the body expires, the energy and resonance that is you, continues—it does not die, it does not disappear.

“XirRoq does not create a physical form as you understand it, but he has learned to exist within the corporeal dimension by creating an illusion of a physical form. That is why he is so difficult to defeat. The Ethereal stone is the only way we know of to ensure that he returns to his own world.”

“Whoa, my head is spinning,” Rafe lamented.

Joelnar laughed, “I know exactly how you feel. Sometimes it feels as if there is just too much information to be able to understand it all,” he turned to Lail, Strill and Yarrie, “No offense.”

They nodded to him.

“I think, then, that we should leave before poor Rafe grows any dizzier,” Marek quipped.

“You are staying here, then?” Phessari asked Neerah as Phessari got to her feet.

“Yes. I guess I need to try this technique of theirs if we’re going to get that gateway closed,” Neerah answered.

“Any idea how long you will be gone?” Phessari continued.

“Not really,” Neerah replied. Then getting to her feet, she hugged Phessari, “I really do wish you and Joelnar all the best together,” she whispered to Phessari.

Phessari hugged Neerah back, and felt tears fill her eyes, “Thank you, so much.”

Lail escorted Joelnar, Rafe, Marek, and Phessari out of the dome and down the tree-lined path. When they reached the end of the path, Lail raised his hand-like appendages in a slow, smooth motion. Soon they could see a shimmering image of the Forest of Reflections before them. As the image grew clearer, the companions left the Ethereals’ fold in space to return to their own world of Danaria.

*****

Once they had crossed back into the Forest of Reflections, Phessari noted that the pedestal again had the Keeper of the Sanctuary globe on it, and that Mooncloud was nowhere around.

They returned to the pavilion that they had been using while staying in the Forest of Reflections and Rafe plopped down on some cushions near one of the trays of fruit.

Popping a berry into his mouth, he commented, “Looks like we have our work cut out for us with this gateway. As for this XirRoq character…well, I just hope he stays on his side of the gateway.”

Phessari, having found a decanter of wine on one of the tables, poured some into four glasses. As she passed them around, she asked, “Have you thought about how you want to approach this, Joelnar?”

Marek raised an eyebrow at Phessari, then took one of the glasses from her.

Joelnar was caught off guard at being put in the position of leader, “Uh…I guess we need to talk with the Aurisens and Aerisens. Somehow we need to convince them to let us use their piece of the Ethereal stone to close this gateway.” He took a sip a wine, then sat down on one of the cushions and set the glass on the floor next to him.

“What about the Aquarians?” Rafe queried.

“Good question,” Joelnar nodded.

“Perhaps the Aurisens or Aerisens have more information as to where these Aquarians reside,” Phessari suggested.

“I’ll talk to Ahndraya of Warmwind and her group,” Rafe said with a huge impish grin.

“I’m sure you’d love that,” Joelnar sarcastically replied, a smile tilting his lips upward.

Addressing Rafe, Joelnar said, “Actually, I think you and I need to go back to the Gardens and see the Aerisens, since Dot, Stripe, and Emmy left here and returned home.”

Rafe almost choked on his berry. After a couple of slaps on the back by Marek, which nearly pushed his face into the floor, he managed to ask, “Are you crazy? Those folks tried to skewer me.”

Marek burst out laughing, “That you are so frightened of a small winged-child is very amusing.”

Joelnar, too began laughing, and Phessari smiled while Rafe blustered, “She doesn’t scare me…not exactly, anyway,” he mumbled. Then he gave up, and smiled, too.

Marek, the laughter dying on his lips, turned serious eyes to Joelnar. “I believe I will return to my village.”

Joelnar looked stricken, but hid it quickly, while Rafe continued to munch on his berries, an interested look on his face.

“I believe we must end d’Oessler’s reign of fear,” he continued. “As warlord and warrior, I feel it is my duty to raise the army necessary to do this.”

“Oh, Marek, …” a surprised Phessari started, but seeing his sternly set countenance, she bit her lip and remained silent.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Joelnar asked his friend.

“I am sure,” Marek nodded decisively. “I must gather all Nixian clans together so that we can remove this blight from our world.”

Joelnar stood and walking over to Marek, he offered his hand, “I will miss you, friend.”

“And I you,” Marek responded.

Joelnar wasn’t happy with Marek’s announcement, but he couldn’t deny that Marek was right about d’Oessler—something did need to be done about him. Maybe Marek was right about his being able to gather an army of Nixians, too. “Perhaps we should be accompanying you, then?”

“No. Closing the gateway is also important,” his intensity of purpose was clear in his eyes. “I think it is time that we each pursue our own paths,” Marek said solemnly.

Joelnar nodded, “I would ask one favor before you leave.”

“If I can,” Marek replied.

“Would you perform the joining ceremony for Phessari and I? Here in the Forest of Reflections,” Joelnar requested, “provided the Aurisens have no objections.”

“But Joelnar?” Phessari started to protest.

Joelnar turned to her, “I realize it’s not the ceremony that you had hoped for, but I can’t risk putting you in danger by taking you back to your village. If XirRoq has gotten through the gateway, then he might be able to sense your resonance if you leave here. I love you too much to lose you now, and,” he paused to wrap an arm around her, “I’m not about to start out on another of these adventures without an official pledge to you, first.”

“Joelnar…” she cooed, then kissed him soundly.

“Well, that calls for a drink,” Rafe smiled, then got up and refilled his wine glass. “Anyone else?” he offered the wine decanter around.

What Joelnar didn’t say, was that he also didn’t want to take a chance on drawing XirRoq to Marek’s village. After all, they were still just recovering from a devastating attack by windriders and troopers. They had lost all their buildings and many of their young men. It was one of the reasons why Marek had agreed to accompany him on their quest to find a way to release those trapped in the Globe of Souls. He thought Marek faced a big enough challenge in rebuilding his own village and trying to gather together the different Nixian clans in order to attack d’Oessler, without having to fight off this shape-shifting energy creature once it got free.

“I would be honored to join you two,” Marek pronounced, “whether it be here or anywhere.”

“Thank you, Friend Marek,” Joelnar went over and shook Marek’s hand.

When Mooncloud came in, Joelnar asked her, “Is it alright with the Aurisens if we perform a joining ceremony here tomorrow?”

“We would be most honored to host the joining of the Spiritual Mother with her chosen one,” Mooncloud responded happily.

As the companions discussed their plans, Joelnar realized that he had neither the proper attire, nor any joining bracelets. Ah well, he laughed at himself, at least we’ll be joined.

*****

As dawn turned the sky gold and pink, the men awoke to find new clothing awaiting them.

Marek and Rafe had similar outfits consisting of black breeches, white, large-sleeved shirts, embroidered vests (which looked similar to some of the tapestries that they had seen hanging in the d’Oessler’s castle) consisting mostly of greens and blues. This was capped off with a sash of blue and gold for Rafe, and green and gold for Marek.

Joelnar also found new clothing laid out for him. Although, his outfit had the same basic black breeches and white shirt as those to be worn by Rafe and Marek, the rest of it was more elaborate. His vest was made of some opalescent fabric and trimmed with silver. The vest was actually very light when he picked it up, and, as he slid his fingers slid along the surface of the fabric, he noticed that it felt almost like the finest metals created in the heart of Sanoria. As he reached for the iridescent sash, he saw that the Aurisens had also provided two joining bracelets. They sat on top of the sash, reflecting the rainbows of the fabric. Carefully, he picked up one of the joining bracelets and studied it more closely. The warm, silver metal was shaped into two twining vines. Green leaves, carved from some type of stone, were interspersed throughout the design. The vines started and ended by twisting around a three-banded cabochon. The three bands on the stone consisted of a blue band with white streaks, an amber brown band, followed by another blue band with darker blue streaks running through it in a wave pattern.

As the men finished dressing, Mooncloud came in to see if they needed anything. “You have given us more than I expected,” Joelnar smiled at Mooncloud. “We never expected you to give us new clothes,” he turned for her inspection, “and these joining bracelets are wonderful. Thank you.”

“Thanks are not necessary, although they are appreciated,” Mooncloud bowed her head at Joelnar.

“Can you tell me what the design on the joining bracelets signifies?” Joelnar asked. “It’s beautiful, but I’m curious.”

“The vines are you and Phessari sharing your lives together,” she ran a delicate finger down the silver vines, “the center stone is a blending of sky, ground, and water, all elements that comprise our world, Danaria,” her eyes glowed as she lifted her head and smiled at Joelnar.

Joelnar smiled back, then started to tie one end of his sash to one of the bracelets. After a moment, Mooncloud took the smaller bracelet and looped the other end of his sash through it. Joelnar paused in what he was doing and, studying Mooncloud for a moment, said, “May I ask you a personal question?”

“You may ask, and I will decide whether to answer,” she gave him a shy smile.

“Fair enough,” he nodded, “How is it that you don’t seem overly concerned about mingling with us and doing things for us? Aren’t you afraid of becoming involved in the lives of man?”

Marek and Rafe had finished dressing and gone through to the main room of the pavilion as Mooncloud thought about Joelnar’s question.

She finished tying the bracelet into Joelnar’s sash, then stepped back, “I have already decided to follow the Circle-of-Life-Path, so I am not too concerned.” Her eyes sparkled with an impish kind of joy as she continued, “Perhaps, you and Phessari will even consider allowing me to become one of your children. I would be greatly honored,” she grinned and bowed.

“I uh…don’t know what to say,” Joelnar gulped, “you’re a wonderful person, but I never realized we, any of us, had any say in who are children were going to be or who our parents would be…”

“All things can be completely random or completely planned. The choices are yours to make. I wish to meet the parents I would have prior to birth,” Mooncloud stood with her hands behind her back, her long blond hair cascading over her shoulder, “Hence, my reason for requesting your approval. For I do not think I would care to be a child not wanted by its parents.”

Joelnar was a bit taken aback, “I hadn’t really considered more children,” he answered truthfully. “I’m still trying to get used to the idea of the one that’s coming now.” He shrugged, “I guess I would have no objections to you being a part of our family, provided Phessari even wants to have any more children,” he gave her a half-hearted smile.

Mooncloud bowed a large smile curving her lips, “Thank you, Joelnar. I will look forward to being part of your family.”

When she straightened, a smile still decorated her lips. Leaning forward, she lightly kissed Joelnar’s cheek, then quickly left the pavilion. A slightly dazed Joelnar, sat down on the edge of the sleeping platform, the sash with the two joining bracelets still clutched in his hand.

Galerianki-Torebka i perfumy za seks z nastolatką

Zrodlo : tvn24.pl

http://www.tvn24.pl/-1,1621205,0,1,torebka-i-perfumy-za-seks-z-nastolatka,wiadomosc.html

Trzeba zdawać sobie sprawę, że w tym środowisku, w tej grupie wiekowej cały czas trwa walka, walka o pozycję w grupie o to, by zaistnieć bez względu na to jak  - Psycholog Grzegorz Górecki

Torebka, sukienka, perfumy, biżuteria i telefon komórkowy – przerażająco niewiele, bo to wszystko zdobyte za seks. W galeriach handlowych kwitnie nowe zjawisko społeczne: młode dziewczyny oddają się mężczyznom za prezenty ze sklepowych wystaw.
Do kin wchodzi właśnie fabularny debiut Katarzyny Rosłaniec, który opowiada o galeriankach – nastolatkach, które za wystawowe, galeryjne przedmioty odpłacają mężczyznom własnym ciałem.

- To szczególnie odrażająca i skrajna postać czegoś, co nazwałem żeńskim tsunami. Od jakiegoś czasu dziewczyny – może nazwijmy je dziołchy – doganiają pod względem różnych patologicznych zachowań chłopców – mówi socjolog prof. Janusz Czapiński.

- Trzeba zdawać sobie sprawę, że w tym środowisku, w tej grupie wiekowej cały czas trwa walka, walka o pozycję w grupie o to, by zaistnieć bez względu na to jak – dodaje psycholog Grzegorz Górecki.

Trzeba zdawać sobie sprawę, że w tym środowisku, w tej grupie wiekowej cały czas trwa walka, walka o pozycję w grupie o to, by zaistnieć bez względu na to jak
Psycholog Grzegorz Górecki
Szok dla rodziny Trzeba zdawać sobie sprawę, że w tym środowisku, w tej grupie wiekowej cały czas trwa walka, walka o pozycję w grupie o to, by zaistnieć bez względu na to jak
Psycholog Grzegorz Górecki

Zjawisko oddawania się nastolatek za prezenty z galerii handlowych staje się coraz bardziej powszechnie. I nie dotyczy jedynie dziewczyn z biednych domów, ale również z tych, w których pozornie niczego nie brakuje, a już na pewno nie pieniędzy.

- Myślę, że wiele matek mogłoby się bardzo zdziwić, bo wyobrażają sobie, że takie rzeczy dzieją się w każdym innym domu, ale nie w ich – mówi Agnieszka Sztyler z “Twojego Stylu”, która wysłuchała wstrząsającej historii matki małej galerianki.

Dom, którego dotknął ten problem był zamożny i rodzinny. Mimo to dziewczyna trafiła na sklepowe korytarze. – Matka była zaszokowana i gdyby nie przypadek, że zobaczyła córkę z mężczyzną w galerii handlowej, nigdy by w to nie uwierzyła – mówi Sztyler.

Od córki usłyszała szczerą odpowiedź: po co umawiać się z chłopcami w swoim wieku, skoro starsi są bardziej doświadczeni i jeszcze obdarowują prezentami.

Rodzinie trudno było sobie poradzić z problemem. – Najlepiej poradziła sobie z tym córka. Zaś małżeństwo tej kobiety przechodzi wielki kryzys. Z trudem uporała się ona z poczuciem winy. Uważa, że gdyby kupiła córce lepsze adidasy to nie doszłoby do tej sytuacji – opowiada Sztyler.

Znak emocjonalnego ubóstwa

Eksperci twierdzą, że galerianki to znamię naszych czasów – przemian gospodarczych, kulturowych, światopoglądowych. Bezmyślne, impulsywne bądź wyrachowane postępki – trzeba potem leczyć. Na terapię – obok galerianki – trafiła cała rodzina. – Ta prostytucja jest tylko pewnym objawem tego, co im w duszy gra i jak są one (galerianki – red.) pokrzywione – mówi prof. Czapiński.

Ania Karczmarczyk, która zagrała główną rolę w filmie “Galerianki” tak opisuje to nowe zjawisko społeczne: – Te dziewczyny uważają, że ważniejsze są pieniądze niż własna seksualność. Choć to pewnie pozór, bo od ubóstwa materialnego większe jest to emocjonalne. (mac ram)

is it beer goggles?

"beer goggles" image via Flickr user A_of_DooM.

I just read a post from Salon’s Broadsheet about a UK poll that found most respondents were having most of their sex while under the influence of alcohol, and the respondents said they prefer it that way.  Broadsheet blogger Mary Elizabeth Williams mentions that a writer for the Independent suggested these women prefer sex the influence (SWI?) because of poor body image, and Williams also notes that we should consider the poll’s source, a feminine hygiene company.  While I’d be inclined to agree that the type of women who find crotchular deodorants necessary for purchase may also have a tendency toward low self esteem in other areas, I sort of wonder if there isn’t another explanation.

At least in my observations of fellow young women, alcohol isn’t just a form of liquid courage to give us the confidence to get naked and down to business.  It’s also a liquid excuse.  Many young women pretend to be drunker than they really are as an excuse for doing things they wanted to do anyway.  I’ve seen friends act completely wasted after one beer, because they seem to think drunk girls can get away with behavior “good girls” can’t.  If you can say “but I was soooooo drunk,” you can excuse hooking up with a guy your friends (or you, by the light of day) disapprove of.  In a society where good girls are supposed to say no to sex, alcohol becomes a handy scapegoat for our behavior.

I’m not saying I approve of excusing behavior by way of alcohol, first, because I think that we should be allowed to feel confident in our sexual choices, and to own them as proudly as we would stone cold sober, but second, because I’m wary of the level of consent anyone who is legally intoxicated can give.  In many states, someone who is legally intoxicated cannot legally consent to sex, and I think men AND women should try to avoid having sex with drunk people to avoid thorny issues of consent-confusion.

Williams writes:

Lots of women drink. Lots of women have sex. Does it automatically follow that women need to drink to have sex? And is imbibing before bed the mark of a self-loather “looking for a boost in self-esteem when it comes to bedroom antics,” as Lakeland says, or simply an uninhibited sensualist?

I’d add that some of them are simply looking for an excuse for “bad girl” behavior. And either way, though I’m a fan of both moderate drinking AND sex, I’d encourage people who mix sex and drinking to make sure their partner is still capable of clear and enthusiastic consent.

<I>Was It All Just A Part of Your Plan?</I>

“Always” by Saliva, one of my favorite songs because it perfectly captures the truly crazily obsessive, borderline relationship.

I’ve written four entries to the ones I’ve managed to post, and I was drunk when I posted “Pandora Opens The Box…” I promised myself, right before I passed out, that I would pull it down, but next thing I remember, it’s the following morning and multiple people have already read it. It was a little of the “oops, maybe I shouldn’t have shared that with the world, especially with the subject of the material.”

My blogs have caused more disaster in my personal life than just about anything else–with the possible exception of alcohol. I’m extremely careful now about who I allow to know this identity and the person I am. Whenever you connect with people you’ve found through your blog (or give friends, or god forbid a boyfriend, the address), you run some major risks. The material in here could be used as emotional blackmail (I’ve had it happen, and it ain’t pretty).

I’ve thought seriously about closing down this one here the past few days, but my audience has grown quite a bit since the past month or so. I have no qualms from disappearing again, as I’ve done it multiple times, because either I didn’t want my boyfriend to know how many men I’ve fucked in the past (lord knows, I like to write about that shit), to being in love with a boyfriend’s best friend (ouch), to being stalked by my very attractive English professor who was sure I was writing about him most of time (I was because I was just obsessed with him as he was with me) to being emotionally manipulated because he had access to too much personal information through a blog.

Sounds bad because it is. I’ve been blogging since summer of 2000, so I’ve been around the blogging block. I have more than once become as fascinated by a fan as he/she is with me.

The problem is when you can’t write about what you want to write about because of some forseeable effect on someone else. Obviously, this is a risk in all writing, but sometimes it’s more of a possibility than other times. A lot of people would say that we can’t be responsible for how others will interpret our work (Mimi would definitely adhere to this rule), but I’m not so brazen. I’ve written more in the past two weeks than I’ve written probably this whole year total (it’s hard to write when you’re high, and I was high for parts of this year), and I can’t post most of it.

Blogging is like jerking off, it’s instant gratification, and I feel like I haven’t cum in three weeks, and I’m lying in bed with my dick in my hand–but I’m not allowed to stroke. Somehow I’m supposed to save myself for marriage (aka, having a book published). And I went to one of those schools that taught masturbation was evil.

I’m not in love with my own writing. It’s important to me, but these are not priceless works of art, and I’m not a dumbass (okay, so I was seriously questioning that today, but what can you do?). I don’t feel comfortable writing about what I want to write about, and I thought about the possibility of having this problem before I ever boarded to go to Vegas (I pretty much thought of every possibility, including falling in love with him, but somehow I thought he’d be more much enthralled with the idea).

So, I have no solution to this problem. In the past, I’ve just disappeared for a while (although I’ve never stopped blogging for very long), and in the end, I might do just that. Sometimes that’s just smarter anyway.

according to the brits, jackie harris and i have slept with the entire world

there is a scene from the t.v. show roseanne, that i quote so often, that sometimes it feels like it happened in my own life.  it is a scene in which jackie, roseanne’s sister, and jackie’s husband, fred, decide to have the “numbers” talk.  it goes down like this:

Fred: How many men did you date before we met?

Jackie Harris: Well, do you mean dated at all, or dated seriously?

Fred: Well, oh, I mean seriously.

Jackie Harris: Okay, I have to say… just a few.

Fred: Good. It’s not that I mind if you slept with lots of guys…

Jackie Harris:[chuckles] Oh, well slept with!

Jackie Harris: [chuckles harder] Well…

Jackie Harris: [soberly] That’s not what you asked me.

Fred: No I guess it wasn’t.

Jackie Harris: [chuckling] Well, Fred, don’t worry… it’s not that many. I’d – I’d saaay – three a year.

Fred: Since you were, what, eighteen?

Jackie Harris: [thinks] Okay, we’ll go with that.

Fred: [looking shocked] Oh, oh wow.

Jackie Harris: [getting defensive] Well, Fred! It’s not *that* many! Three a year for 20 years is, 60 – wow.

Fred: Gawd… I don’t even *know* 60 people.

Jackie Harris: Well, I didn’t *know* all of them.

i thought of this episode once again this morning when i discovered the ”sex degrees of separation” calculator on the website of the british chain, lloyds pharmacy.  to promote sexual awareness, this calculator helps you work out how many direct and indirect sexual partners you have had in the sense of possible exposure to sexually transmitted diseases.  it totals up the numbers based on your number of partners, then their previous partners, and their former lovers, and so on for six “generations” of partners.

the average british bloke claims to have slept with 9 people, while the average british lass puts her number at 6.3, giving an average of 7.65.  according to the “sex degrees of separation” calculator, that means the average brit has slept with 2.8 million people, directly and indirectly.

this is interesting, informative, and i’m absolutely a fervent promoter of safe sex and learning about sexual health.  HOWEVER, i have several problems with lloyds and it’s little calculator…

1. lloyds expects people to remember their number of sexual partners.  ok this may be an easy feat for some.  but for people like jackie harris, that’s hard to do.  if you’ve been sexually active for 10 years or more, trying to think back a DECADE to remember some horrible one-night stand is not easy.

2. after you are done feeling like a giant whore, and you’ve tallied all the possible notches in your bed post you can remember, you then have to know their ages at the time you boned them!  now if you’re like jackie harris, trying to come up with a number was traumatizing enough, let alone trying to figure out when their birthday is.

3. so let’s say you actually made it to step three, the calculation.  then i congratulate you!  because i didn’t.  actually it wasn’t that i didn’t, so much as i COULDN’T.  just like when one gets a new ferrari, i wanted to “open this calculator up” and take it for a ride.  so i entered my age, and put that i had slept with over 50 people (this is all in the name of science).  and THIS is the answer i got back:

We are unable to perform this calculation.

what is the point of putting that option on there if your retarded calculator can’t even multiply!

my only theory is that lloyds pharmacy is owned by some uptight prude who wants to make people like jackie harris feel like a prostitute!

damn you lloyds!

Sex and the art of Cricketing

Finally the report is out! Gary Kirsten has come out with his report on sex and cricket. It was known that he was working on something of this sort, when he was cited with various girls, surreptitiously moving around. Instead of coaching the Indian Team, he was found more in bars, restaurants and clubs, gathering material for his research. The next day morning in the field, he was found to be drowsy, mumbling something which was not understood by the team but was too afraid to ask.

The report presumes that the cricketers are not already having enough sex! It is also not clear as to whom to have sex with! Married cricketers are interpreting it that it doesn’t include sex with wife, because the results in that case could be unnerving instead of being otherwise. The gay activists are gathering in New York City tomorrow to, discuss their stand on the issue.

The politicians got a wind of these reports much before it was published, and are scrambling for a berth in the team, if not as a player at least as a Manager, assistant to Manager etc. I am not saying Narendra Modi, took over as the President of Gujarat Cricket Association, only a few days back, only in this context.

What is true for cricketers should be true for any other profession. Cops knew better than Kirsten, and they take to rape, whenever circumstances permitted. After all chasing criminals needs equal aggression if not more.

Chandu Borde, a former cricketer, has exclaimed that ‘ this was something new’! It is not clear whether he meant sex.

The presentation by the Coach, is also silent about the spectators. Should the spectators have sex before watching or not is the million $ question. The stands may be provided with sex booths as a bonus. A player could be seen signaling for the twelfth man to take his place, only to have a ‘quickie’ before he bowled the final over.

Now on a serious note the Kirsten report goes entirely against popular notions, though he claims that the findings are based on scientific evidence. He is going by the reported increase in testosterone levels after intercourse and that would be the clincher for getting more aggressive on the field.

What he is overlooking is the fact that aggression could be only on bed and not with bat.

It is a proven fact that good sex relaxes the nerves, and not fortifies them. You release the pent up energy and not build it up. Osho says sex energy is the base energy on which all other energies depend. If a man has regular sex he wouldn’t do any work. That is why the society, has built protective layers of taboo around sex. The soldiers are denied sex, because they build enough aggression with out it. Only the hungry dog bites. A well-fed dog lies down and simply growls from the dog house. According to Osho, even art is diversion of sex energy. If artists have enough they may not get enough inspiration, he says.

My concern is, we are already over populated and imagine the cricket- population adding to it. What if the population explodes and the runs diminish on the score board. To my eyes there appears to be a ‘foreign hand’ behind this move.

India beware!

The moral police is coming!

Sampath, please stop. Enough!

Vogue Made Me a Transvestite

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

sweet dreams are made of these

the first place we checked out was a place that opened about a couple of weeks ago. we walked down a spiral of steps with mirrors left, right and centre.  i felt like i was in some ‘alice in wonderland‘ maze thing hoping i wouldn’t get lost! it was such a struggle to find where i was going and  it was tripping me out seeing reflection’s of myself wherever i looked! it also didn’t help that i was slightly tipsy.

we walked in and it was a fairly small place.  people were looking at us; whether it was because we were a couple or maybe because i sported a short skirt and that my boobs were WAY bigger than the stripper that was up on stage…i’ll never know. 

the girl on stage wasn’t too bad and she was rubbing herself up and down the pole as we took a seat at the very front of the stage. the boy leant in to whisper in my ear,

“you’re body is way better than hers…and so are your tits..“

this was something he liked to do, and he did it a few more time throughout the night and even reminded me of it the next day.

i noticed that stripper’s tend to hold back for some reason when i’m there with my bf, maybe because they think i’m there to keep an eye on him.  but the truth is, i was the one that brought him there! if they only knew…

i looked around and saw how the girls worked their magic…flirting and giving them slight lil touches on the shoulder and giggling..then taking them in for a private lapdance. an instant $50 for 2mins work…you gotta love the way stripper’s have it GOING ON! 

we didn’t stay for long even though the music was good and the place was nice, the girls and the crowd just weren’t doing it for us. they were all amateur girls starting off their stripping career and we wanted something more than just a girl rubbing herself up against a pole. at first i was reluctant to leave because the girl that was up on stage was trying to flirt with me and i didn’t wana be rude and leave. but i had no choice when the boy stood up, i had to follow his lead to the next club he had in mind…

 

Curve şi droguri

Riscurile sociale, conform unui proaspăt comunicat emis de Cotroceni sunt curvele şi drogurile. Despre prostituţie am vorbit în cel mai citit post al meu, „escorte, dame de companie, salon de masa”, accesat de peste 1500 de curioşi. Nu este zi ca motoarele de căutare să nu arunce pe pagina mea oameni în căutare de prostituate: dame companie, escorte gara de nord, femei prostituate… etc.
Societatea făţiş ortodoxă şi pseudo-puritană, sare ca arsă. Cum să dezincriminezi prostituţia şi consumul de droguri?!
Ţara e praf, trenurile deraiază pe o infrastructură în aer, criza se agravează, vin (iar) alegeri, statul este falimentar de atâta hoţie şi nepricepere, de sex şi droguri ne arde? Nu zic că nu avem (şi) mii de alte probleme – ba, chiar spun că nu prea ştiu ce sector nu are probleme – dar constat că orice discuţie despre subiectele fierbinţi ca prostituţia, pornografia şi drogurile este constant inoportună.
Pe de o parte e mare prefăcătoria, politicienii şi-au făcut un obicei din a pupa-n cur reprezentanţii biserici şi sunt convinşi că prin asta câştigă puncte în ochii votantului şi probabil că există o masă largă, predominant rurală care chiar pune botul în continuare la astfel de ieşiri pompieristice şi de paradă, pe de altă parte – şi am mai spus şi asta – incertitudinea, portiţele, legislaţia obscură din această zonă, favorizează exact dezvoltarea ei nestingherit şi sunt mulţi oameni din zona politicului sau apropiaţi de ea care au afaceri super profitabile tocmai din aceste activităţi.
Nu pot uita nici „marile acţiuni” pompieristice ale Poliţiei menite să stârpească criminalitatea ale căror victime de fiecare dată au picat biete curve de trotuar şi mărunţi distribuitori de marijuana… Păi dacă aceştia ar fi scoşi din zona penală, Poliţia cu ce s-ar mai lăuda/justifica?
Aşa, cu prevederi semi-obscure, mai scapă şi un Ţiriac junior, capii reţelelor pot să-şi facă treaba liniştiţi şi îşi dau partea şi la Poliţie şi la clasa politică, să fie toată lumea fericită. De ochii prostimii mai bagă o curvă la pârnaie, arestează un student ameţit dintr-o discotecă unde şmecherii ştiau dinainte că o să fie razie şi s-au evaporat elegant…
Fac cum fac, tot fraierii şi fraierele o sug. Sistematic.

Şi tot fraierii sunt poftiţi la vot.

De droguri nu mă ating, bag suficiente ţigări şi ling destul alcool, iar de fete… numai de bine! Şi mi-am exprimat şi opţiunea electorală:

Take Your Version of Commitment and Shove It

I got this comment on my post about television from some woman named Kristin who appears to think she is part of the morality police.  She thinks my not being married causes my daughter more damage than allowing her to watch television.  Riiiight…I am so damaging my daughter because I have actively chosen not to partake in an institution based originally in the ownership of women (I was married once, but we did it because the government would give my partner financial aid if he was married and would not if he wasn’t.  Government likes marriage too)?  I am worse because I do not follow her version of morality?  All I can say is, it is nice for you Miss, that you can cut the world so neatly into black and white little boxes.  Bad people don’t get married.  Good people do.  Where does television fit into this exactly?  You’re probably one of those people who wanted to keep their children from watching television, but realized it was such a great babysitter, you found excuses to allow it and now you are jealous because I have managed to keep it out of my home when you weren’t able to.  Sour grapes to you, Sour Puss.

I have made the choice not to be married rather than allowing people like you to dictate my morality.  There are many reasons for this, chief among them the lack of necessity of having my relationship sanctioned by bigots like you.  In addition, I refer again to my refusal to take part in an institution that was created by men to improve the likelihood the children to whom they passed their worldly possessions at death were in fact their children.  Women were property and religions sanctioned it.  I am not interested.

I also gather from your nasty comment about the child in my belly that you think I am a big, bad person for having sex (GASP!) before having a religion or the government sanction my relationship.  Guess what, Chica?  This is my body.  It does not belong to the government or to any religious organization.  If I want to have sex without a marriage certificate, I will!  I am fully apprised of the risks and benefits in doing so and take action with full awareness of the consequences, including pregnancy.

So take your little version of morality and keep it to yourself.  I don’t need for you to read my blog.  If you don’t like what I have to say, go somewhere else.  No one asked you for your judgmental bullshit, least of all me.

A night spent in musical foreplay

It’s Saturday night in West End and I am outside ‘The Music Kafe’ about to swallow the musical bait.  I am being lured from the street into the packed bar through the harmonious sound of an electric harmonica, keyboard, drum kit, base and lead guitar all melting together to form a jazz/blues/funk/swing band.

 I was experiencing the ‘Connor Cleary Band’ and these guys were kicking some seriously musically talented arse.

Connor unlike so many popular artists of today has a deep, rich, full voice that penetrated through my skin and vibrated off my bones.

Nikolaine, the self taught keyboardist, could stand alone in a smoky Chicago Jazz Club and have people begging for more.  It was as if the music was being sucked from the depths of her soul and pumping out through her fingers to form notes.

The band has only come together in the last couple of months and this was somewhat apparent, as they at times seemed deeply caught up in their own sounds.  Criticism aside, they were brilliant, and if a few months together produced what I heard on Saturday night then I shudder to think how good they will be in the very near future.

Next up was ‘Mr Speaker’.  I’ll be honest, I didn’t think they had it in them to outdo the last bout of music to my ears and with a name like Mr Speaker… I was expecting a DJ set.

How fucking wrong was I?  They were jazz, they were funk, they were swing and they had a whole lot of soul.

They started off a little slow – I felt like we were trotting: that they were finding their feet, but by the time they found them the gallop was seriously race-worthy!

The barefoot Byron Bay based band consists of five extremely talented men who gel together so well that you can only consider them one entity when they are playing.  They are not people: they are a sound, they are a feeling, they are pure fucking music.

The lead singer (Greg Corcoran) seriously needs to be witnessed!  Listening to him was like a flash back in time to when music had guts: the sound resonated from deep within, it was real, it was passionate, it was primal – it was exceptional.

Saxophone player, Matt Brooker, managed to swap from tenor to soprano when the music called for it.  His sound was so deep and honest, he exuded audio sex onto the completely entranced crowd.  Seriously, women wanted to pull his clothes off, he was foreplay to the ears.

Mr Speaker pulled off Muddy Waters like nobody I have ever heard!  They went from swing to reggae, English to Spanish and they did it with absolute awe-inspiring grace.

The crowd consisted of some of the coolest people I have seen huddled in one space.  They just let go, nobody gave a shit, they followed Corcoran and they danced their arses off: they shook, gyrated, jumped, twisted and punched the air; they were musically hypnotized, as was I.

I was impressed, seriously impressed.  These guys are so much more than a Saturday night gig, these guys are the big wigs and I truely hope they get to where they are destined to go!

To check these guys out on myspace, click the links below

http://www.myspace.com/theconnorclearyband
http://www.myspace.com/mrspeakerbb

drunk

i am drunk right now…

went to a friend’s kid’s bday party todday…  there was antoher mom there that I couldn’t help but keep chekin out.  At one point she bent over right in front of me, it was like, humina humina.  I tried to look away most of the time as to not get caught looking, but holy cow she has a niiiiiiice ass along with everything else!!!  Funny thing is I saw my huby checking her out too.  lol

Anyway, so tonight we had some interesting sex, will spare u the details

Gunna go to bed now, nite!

the birthday card

the boy picked me up about 2 1/2 hours ago and gave me a very beautiful card! in it were some clues about what i’m goin to expect for my upcoming “birthday week”.  he wrote:

this week is your birthday and i have put together something:

inspiring

yummy 

magical

sexy

vintage

childlike

smelly (which is my BIGGEST pet hate so i really hope it’s nothing too bad )

kinky 

&

adventurous 

apparently, NOT in that order. 

my first surprise will come when i hear the alarm on his phone go off at 12am…30mins from now!

im TOO excited!

Sweet Release, Finally - HER perspective

Eleven days of no fucking and finally sweet release!!!! Have you ever felt like there is nothing that can fill you, satisfy you, or satiate your appetite but a hard cock? This has been my feeling over the last 11 days.  So horny that it was painful, I spent my days thinking of R and his cock, mouth, and hands and what I wanted them to do to me. Selfish, I know, but aren’t we all at times?

We finally met, had a few drinks, then drove to our motel room. It was our only option for privacy on this day and well, it was a necessity.  He had been sick and not feeling well all week and I hoped he would be recovered by our time together. At the bar his voice was hoarse and he coughed some. I asked him if he didn’t want to do this, we could just hang out together, I didn’t want to hurt him and as horny as I was, I thought I just might if he wasn’t up to par. Thankfully, he said he was feeling fine and wanted to fuck me as badly as I wanted to fuck him, so our plans for the room were on.

I brought my new bag of toys  (read about the toys at Patience is NOT my virtue) and he was so interested to see them we even viewed a few before making it to the room. He was intrigued.  In the room, we went through the items more thoroughly and I think he was a bit surprised by the power of the vibrators and the size of the g-spot vibrator. He remarked “it looks like a cock”. I smiled “that’s the point”.

We removed our clothing, so eager to be naked and in each others arms.  It had been so long, too long. On the bed, he quickly made me wet and made me come.  He used the small pocket vibrator because it was brand new and I hadn’t given it a try yet, he said. It worked well, the powerful vibrations inside of me felt good, but the addition of him using it on me and his mouth and tongue licking and sucking on my clit, sent me over the edge. He used the g-spot vibrator then and used that one along with his mouth again to send me once again moaning into orgasm.

The whole time I was coming, enjoying the toys, and his mouth I was thinking about his cock. I believe I asked for his cock a few times, he refused “not yet”. He likes me to beg, I think, he wants me to. He relishes the opportunity to  tease me, torture me, and push me to the point where I can no longer take it.  I know at a few points I had his cock in my  mouth, testing out the vibrating tongue, and would not stop when he told me to stop (also, enjoying making him squirm and desire release).

He likes to refuse me and my efforts to pleasure him, but whenever I offer my mouth, I am able to overcome his objections very easily. My hand reaching for his cock often gets knocked away, but my mouth going for his cock is enthusiastically welcomed.  This is a good thing because I love having his cock in my mouth and I love how much he loves having his cock in my mouth.

At some point, it is all very blurry for me right now, even though it was less than 24 hours ago I made him stop, removed his hand and forcefully climbed on top of him.  Perhaps this was waiting he was waiting for. Waiting for me to take control and make him my fuck toy.

Once his cock was inside of me it was pure bliss. I had been waiting for this for so long. He had been teasing me throughout the night letting the tip of his cock rub up against my aching pussy. I asked him to just stick it in a little, but he’d say no. On top of him, I rode his cock which felt like a puzzle piece that fit perfectly inside of me. As if it was made just for me. And I was made for him.

The sensation of his cock, his words, telling me to cum, and my need led to several orgasms on top. When I was spent (for now), he told me to lick his cock clean. So I did. I’m not sure if he’d ever asked me to do this before, but I like it when he tells me to do things for him. I continued to suck his cock for a while and then we fucked some more. He told me to get back on top and get off on his cock some more. So I did as I was told.

Afterward, he asked me once again to lick his cock clean and while I was doing just that he had me flip around so that he could lick my pussy while I sucked his cock.

There is something so erotic about having his head buried between my legs while I have his cock in mine. The harder and faster he went with his tongue, the deeper I took his cock into my mouth and throat. Soon, I was coming and I continued to come with his cock in my mouth. Sucking him off while the orgasm flowed through my body.

When I had cum again and he still had not come, he suggested a shower. We love to shower together and continue our sex while in the shower. He got up and I was still laying on the edge of the bed recovering from my previous orgasm when he walked in front of me. I said something about how he should just fuck me and he bent down and stuck his cock in me “like this?” he said. I moaned and said “yes” and then he pulled out. Such a tease!

In the shower we washed each other and kissed. I got on my knees and gave him head for a while. And then we attempted to try a position in the shower, but this shower was so small, we gave up and went to the bed.

When we laid down though, we just snuggled for a while, my head on his chest and my hand on his cock. I asked him how he wanted to fuck next but he said he was just enjoying laying as we were naked in each others’ arms. Then we fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was late so I got dressed, packed up our toys, and then crawled over him to kiss his face and wake him up. I told him he had to get up and that he needed to cum before he left. He seemed so tired and not very interested in that idea. “I don’t think I can” he said. “Not even if I went down and took your cock into my mouth?” I said. That worked and he moved his hips and the blanket so I could take him in my mouth.

He was completely flaccid when I took him in my mouth but in no time he was long, thick, and hard as I took him deep. I sucked his cock for quite some time, he was really enjoying it. He kept moving his legs and bringing up his hips. And he continued to moan. He brought his hands down to feel my face and my lips as they stroked his cock. He stroked my face, head, and hands with his hands, grabbing my hands at some point and squeezing them tightly as he got closer to the end.

He asked if he could fuck me from behind and I took off my panties, hiked up my skirt, and got on all fours so that he could pound me from behind. He didn’t have to pound me very long before he said “can I cum in your mouth”. I told him yes and when he was ready I spun around and took his cock in my mouth to finish him.

His orgasm was very intense and the amount of cum that he orgasmed filled my entire mouth. It took a second to swallow it all down and I looked up at him with mouth filled with his cum.

He dressed then and we headed back to reality. Sigh.

As I drove home, all I could smell was his cock on my face and lips. It was a nice smell and I breathed it in. It made me long for more.

Read R’s perspective on this night at Christmas in September- HIS perspective, it is great!

First time to the site? Make sure you check out some of our other posts, there are some very hot ones in there!