All posts by Steeled Snake

Whispers in the Dark

We’re laying there, just listening to the dark around us. I can hear the rain on the roof (a rarity and amazing) and the winds howling outside off and on. I also hear far-distant thunder. It’s that rolling kind that’s just fun to listen to, not violent, not jolting, just almost like a drummer with a massive kettle drum of some sort playing a random tune.

I hear you whisper to me…

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F… Fine, be late. Not.

You’re in the front room, singing. It’s that Foreigner song – I hear you, just perfectly on tune. “I’ve been waiting… for a boy like you…” you’re singing. I call across the house and correct you – “it’s ‘waiting for a girl like you…” I tell you. “You’re not REALLY correcting me, are you?” you say back.

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E-Stim… Electricity, and Me.

We’ve played a bit with e-stim before. I got frustrated at the lack of control a bit, and not being able to get to “too much!” in the use of it. I always tend to seek out that line – the too-much-line – so you know what the full range is that you have to explore.

SO, I went on a hunt. Find a different machine, different approach, and try, try again.

And I did. We did. And we found that line…

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Improvement (not as in home-improvement)

Improvement is a tough one. It’s hard to talk about improving something with this thing we do, without making it all mechanical and such. At least, for me that’s the case.

At the same time, it can be really effective over time – you may look back in the future at how, why or when you did “this or that” and realize just how much things have changed. Here’s a quick look at how I try to keep this all swimming around my head.

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I is for I Guessed Wrong (Part 8)

This is part 8 in an ongoing story, a segment by Charmer, a segment by Snake…

Part 1 (Hers)Part 2 (His)Part 3 (Hers)Part 4 (His)Part 5 (Hers)Part 6 (His), Part 7 (Hers)

He was in trouble, and he knew it. He hadn’t paid attention early on when she was talking about dinner places. Or, at least he assumed he hadn’t paid attention. He sure didn’t remember anything at all about it, that’s for sure. Gabe couldn’t for the life of him remember the conversation with any specifics. All he COULD remember were those legs, and the mental buttons she was busy pushing in his head.

He’d guessed at the Italian place since they so often loved going out for good Italian food.

He’d guessed wrong, clearly.

Even more to the point, he felt like a big buffoon for letting her down. He really wanted to have this whole weekend thing go really smoothly and was reveling in how she approached things, her attitude, her strength. He really didn’t want to blow it right out of the gate.

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B… is for Bath

OK. I admit it. One of MY favorite times are our evenings together. We’ve developed a bit of a ritual? pattern? Whatever. Something we really love doing on several nights a week.

First, it’s the baths. As often as possible, I draw the bath, put in the fizzy doo-dad, get her settled. I bring in the kindle, water, phone and make sure other things happen that help wrap up the day around the house while she’s chilling in the tub.

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C is for Clues

I walk in the back door and you’re standing there, wine glass in hand, smiling. After a quick kiss, it’s clear you’re anxious to tell me something – so we pause and I look at you expectantly. You grin, and hand me a piece of paper, about the size of a notecard.

On it, I see “Rules – follow the clues. The time it takes you to solve this, to find the end surprise, is the time you’ll have to wrangle an O for yourself. How cool is that?”

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H is for Headspace (Part 6 (His))

This is part 6 in an ongoing story, a segment by Charmer, a segment by Snake…
Part 1 (Hers)Part 2 (His)Part 3 (Hers)Part 4 (His), Part 5 (Hers)

Panic was flashing in his head. First, dashing outside, he just knew it wasn’t cool – she was pushing his buttons and he was trying to hide it in almost sneaking out.

But this whole thing – this change – was happening. Like, really happening. This was slipping in and out of what he’d imagined if they every did this type of thing. “This thing” – he didn’t know how to describe it, not really. He knew it flipped switches inside him that he didn’t really understand when she got like this, but right here, right now, in this ongoing… thing.

He was excited, thought he knew what way things would go, how she’d approach it, what she’d want, not want from him, from them, for herself. The simple fact was, she wasn’t hitting ANY of what he expected at this point. In fact, he’d not expected any of her approach. It was a side of her he had never seen.

He wanted to suggest ideas, but she had such a grin on her face. Sometimes, you could only sense it, sometimes you could actually see it, when he tried to steal a glance at her, just before she’d reminded him to look down, she had this… look. It was powerful as hell. Indescribable.

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S is for Shift

Part 1 (Hers), Part 2 (His), Part 3 (Hers)

The shifting attitude was subtle at first. In fact, it came across more as a confidence thing than anything else. It was really cool. Obviously, Bree had taken the time to set up all of the arrangements, had a plan (or at least a framework in mind), and was making sure that she maintained the direction and control. Even as they walked into the lobby, first motioning, then telling Gabe he needed to stay with the bags and wait.

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