Dark Lady

You are waiting impatiently for me to come out of the bedroom having been banished until I am finished getting ready for the costume party. You look at your watch knowing that we need to leave soon when you hear the door open.

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Gosh, Didn’t Know You Were Here…

After a long day at work, I make my way home, a tad earlier than usual, but nothing big deal. I head inside and and hear music out in the family room, clearly it’s you, I recognize the playlist.

Honey, I’m home,” I say in jest. But I don’t think you can hear me. The music is up and I just assume you can’t make out my infamous line, so I go to find you. I do. I find you reclined in that over-stuffed chair, facing away from me… and naked.

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Lady in Red

You’ve been thinking about the red under the dress all night. I let you watch me dress, your favorite red bra, bikini and garters, all hidden just barely. You watched me cross my legs and bend and flirt and laugh, knowing what was hidden from sight.

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Elabor8: “Tell me more…”

Playtime is a great thing. Playtime can be a torturous time too though. Charmer tends to lean hard on the torture side of things – sometimes physical, sometimes mental. This is a perfect example of one of those times.

She likes to step all over my inability to talk about anything sexual, to answer direct, specific questions about something that’s going on. Of course, once she finds one of those soft spots, she pokes and pokes and pokes at it, just because she can.

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The Story Continues…

From SteelChrmr’s post:


It’s very quiet over here, like I am home alone. But I’m not. The lights are off and it’s dark but I can sense you. In the dark. Waiting. Watching.

I fumble for the light switch by the door. “No,” comes from somewhere in front of me. I hear a noise slightly to my left. I turn, unsure of where you are or what I’m hearing until I see the bright flame…


I see the silhouette of your body in the faintest of the light as my eyes adjust. You’re in the tub, lounging, and I can’t even see enough to know if you’re smiling. I can just make out the outline of your breast in the candlelight.

“Stand there” you say as your hand passes by the light, pointing.

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Battle for Control

I’m not sure why I fight. I’m not sure why I even think I CAN fight.

But I do, nearly every time. Maybe it’s a fantasy of outlasting the evening, of showing what a master of control I can be. Of showing how I can “beat” her and not let her take the control from me.

I lose every. single. time.

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Construction Site (WW Prompt, first post on timeline)

The recent rains were brutal on the not-yet-paved roads out to the new lot. While I was really excited about the location, the truck was bouncing around so much that I am having second thoughts about how it is going to be when storms rolled through. I found that if I gunned it over the normal washboard stuff, it smoothed out.

You? You want me to gun it the entire way up the hill. Through the seemingly ocean-sized puddles, over the ravines, down the gullies. It’s like watching you ride a mechanical bull, hands in the air, grinning from ear to ear as I fight the steering and bouncing around.

It’s great!

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