Impulse
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Posted:Dec 25, 2009 1:54 pm
Last Updated:Jul 21, 2013 10:31 am 41196 Views
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I feel the beginnings of another story coming on. Several recent contacts have expressed an interest in . Probably just the usual wannabe longings, but we'll see where it leads:
Impulse
This was not what you expected.
Lying on a futon, on your back, an ankle cuffed to each wrist, tied to anchors in the bed of my suv, your dress hiked up above your waist, no panties. Your pussy is easily reachable from the front seat as I drive. Your legs are spread, and your pussy lips are parted and wet. Your tongue presses against the ball-gag in your mouth. You want to cry out in protest each time I reach back and fondle your pussy, but the gag stifles your cries. You’re angry, at me, and at yourself. You can feel your wetness, your hips move involuntarily as my fingers move more insistantly, penetrating your vagina, manipulating your tender clitoris. You try to rub against them, force them deeper into your dripping cavity. And you are furious at yourself for responding to my probing fingers like a wanton slut. But the hours of monotonous driving have drained you of all resistance. This was supposed to be an adventure, just a lark, playing at being kidnapped and , but it’s been going on too long to be play. We’ve been driving in the dark for hours. I’ve stopped twice to fill the gas tank. You can’t read the road signs, lying on your back, trying to look out the back window, but you know we’ve been on the interstate, and now we’re on winding mountain roads, no lights. The suv slows, and turns, and the road is suddenly rough, you are bounced as we hit the bumps.
“Shifft, canff ooo fukin dwiiibe?” The gag slurs the words, and you want to scream at me to stop hitting so many bumps. You can barely make out the dark silhouettes of trees. We are in a forest. There have been trees for miles, but now they form a tunnel and block out the night sky. The suv veers sharply, the road, amazingly grows even bumpier. We seems to be going over rocks. We stop. You hear me get out, and then the sound of a chain. I get back in, the suv moves maybe thirty feet forward. I get out again, and you hear the chain rattle over iron, and the door opens and slams, and we are moving again, the road still rough, full of curves, as if we are dodging among the trees, then we swing hard and skid to a stop.
“Last stop. Everybody out.”
My door opens and shuts, then the back door lid opens, and the cuffs on your ankles unlock. I pull you out, my hands under your armpits.
“Swing your feet out. Stand up. We’re going inside.”
There’s a cabin, faintly visible now in the glow of the false dawn, a clearing to the right, large, and something reflecting, water, a lake? You walk up the steps, careful not to stumble. I push open a heavy door made of weathered planks. A light goes on. It’s a big room, old beams, like redwood, and log walls, you can see the axe marks, old logs, but in excellent condition. Something is strange. An entire wall of windows, incongrouous in a cabin like this, opens onto a deck and a lake. Your hands are jerked over your head and fastened to something. You look up at a huge cedar beam, and then into my eyes. You don’t like what you see. You try to look away, but I take your chin between my fingers and thumb and force your head back around.
“Let’s have a better look at that body, sweetheart.”
You feel your dress being pulled up, over your hips, your breasts, over your face, your arms, until it is bunched above your hands, wrapped around the cuffs and the rope that suspends you from the beam, and suddenly you are naked.
You feel my hand between your legs, pressing them apart. You move your feet. My fingers probe your vagina, my hand grips your mound, and I pull you up onto your toes and toward me.
“Noooo,” you cry through the gag, but once more your body betrays you. You can feel your wetness growing as I draw you closer and the touch of my lips on your neck makes you shiver with a desire that you fight to suppress.
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Cosmic Spectacular
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Posted:Dec 19, 2009 4:28 am
Last Updated:May 18, 2024 10:5 pm 39186 Views
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It rained steadily the night before and into the morning. A fog bank and heavy cloud cover rolled in afterward. I set the alarm for 2 a.m. and went to sleep at ten, expecting another disappointment. It was to have been our first weekend together, planned around the Geminid meteor shower. We had to cancel. Some unexpected developments. Perhaps just as well. Took me two days to get the cabin reasonably warm. I much prefer the non-winter months: much better for constant nudity.
In the event, I couldn't force myself to even open my eyes to check the night sky until 2:30, but when I did, and saw it filled with stars, I was out of bed in a flash. The spa wasn't exactly oriented for the meteor display. It would have been better at midnight, when Gemini was lower in the sky. I had to lean way back on the spa lounge seat to get a direct overhead view of the spectacular rocketing light display, but it was worth it. It wasn't quite as great as the best of the Leonids and the Perseids that I have seen in the past, but it was still pretty fabulous, and the steaming hot water (104 degrees) kept me quite comfortable. It's a shame the gods didn't favor our union this time.
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The Season
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Posted:Dec 19, 2009 4:12 am
Last Updated:Aug 18, 2010 11:01 am 39262 Views
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I don't really care for Christmas. I don't actively dislike it, I just don't like it. I don't want to write a Christmas letter, I don't want to write Christmas cards and I don't want to buy or receive Christmas presents. There are exceptions. There are some people I enjoy shopping with: my grandson, and her. I spent 4-5 hours in Macy's with my grandson, letting him pick out the clothes he wanted. Seems like a much more sensible way to shop than trying to pick out things without him. We must have left more than a dozen pairs of jeans in the dressing room after he finished trying them all on trying to pick out the two pairs he finally wanted to buy.
It was worth it. We talked about school, his grades, how his attitude toward studying is changing, his girl friend who was coming back from college the day we were out, how he screwed that up -- they should have broken up when the summer ended, because the strain of remaining faithful was probably unfair to her in particular. It was her first year in college, and she deserved the freedom to find a new guy without feeling guilty. He still has two years of high school left. They're still trying to sort it out. He seems resigned to it being over, and not particularly upset about it. He's a good , but his parents' divorce has really screwed him up. He seems to be coming out of it, but it's still dicey.
She had to buy things for her aunts. We spent 2-3 hours in little botique stores where she probably overpaid for all the little things she thought they would like. I couldn't find anything for her. I wasn't really looking very hard. I already had her main gift, and I know what else I want to get for her, and where to get it, and since we agreed not to exchange gifts until after Christmas, I have plenty of time. I just enjoy being with her. It doesn't matter so much what we do. We know each other so well it's like being a hand and a glove.
As much as I enjoy the human contact, just shopping and dining and holding her, looking at her, I also love the flood of great movies this time of the year. We've already started on our list, my other love and I, with "The Blind Side," two days ago and "Invictus" yesterday. These are two great, but very different, feel-good movies. I won't see many more for a few days as least. The snow has been coming down since last night. But once the snow clears, I'm looking forward to an avalanche of great flicks as Oscar season approaches. That's one of the major things I love about this time of the year: the great flicks. There was one more movie bonus last night. I saw Baz Luhrmann's 1996 production of Romeo and Juliet on TV. I had never seen it. I had seen his "Moulin Rouge" with her. I enjoyed that more than she did. I should have seen this with her too, but we didn't know each other then. That scene where Romeo first sees Juliet through the tank full of beautiful, colorful tropical fish and coral is amazing. I love great cinematography, and I love her. I always have. I always will.
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Senses
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Posted:Dec 19, 2009 3:37 am
Last Updated:May 18, 2024 10:5 pm 38569 Views
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It usually takes me a week of isolation in the forest to fully regain my sensitivity to my surroundings, to see the deer before it moves, to find the hawk instantly when I hear its cry. Now all my senses are awakened. I feel everything more deeply now. The ice completely covered the lake, my raft was frozen in place before the wind died down enough so I could move it. I had to wait for it to thaw. I felt like Washington crossing the Delaware, maneuvering my canoe through the sheets of ice, then breaking a path to the float and ponderously moving it to the stream mouth, where the warmer water from the spring enters the lake and keeps the ice from forming around the raft's floats and crushing them.
She was supposed to come join me for the day, and she did, but we had to change plans because she got a late start. We stayed out all day, instead of staying at the cabin. It doesn't make so much difference any more. When we were more intimate, before her marriage last September, I needed to have her come to the cabin, and I still prefer it, but now it is just to create the mood for the kind of intimate communication that only two people who enjoy an unbreakable bond can experience. I took her out to shop, for dinner, and to a club. She was easily the most beautiful woman wherever we went, but then she always is. Despite her marriage, the connection hasn't changed. I expect it never will. It began long before we were born into this life. It will last well beyond it.
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The Pact
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Posted:Nov 13, 2009 7:43 am
Last Updated:Mar 8, 2010 12:36 pm 37697 Views
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She went on a spiritual retreat in the wilderness. No telephone. No means of contact. I stayed in my cabin in the Blue Ridge. We agreed to meet telepathically. At the appointed hour, nothing. Then, almost exactly 24 hours after the agreed meeting time, 2 a.m., there she was, along with another couple. Not until she had trouble walking because of a leg injury, and I picked her up and carried her in my arms, did I realize who she was. She was fully dressed, yet naked to my touch. Naturally, I did a lot of touching. It was a strange, yet familiar, encounter, not unlike others I have had. It will be interesting to hear her version when she returns.
Apparently, not for nothing am I a dreamcatcher.
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Solitude
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Posted:Nov 11, 2009 1:02 pm
Last Updated:Mar 8, 2010 12:36 pm 35910 Views
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Today is my third day of solitude in the woods. Two days of magnificent weather followed by today's incessant rain. Through it all, the incredible beauty of nature prevails. Working in the forest, cutting and dragging trees for this winter's firewood, is a cathartic release denied to both prayer and profanity. Even in the rain, the calming effect of solitude sooths and energizes the senses. I find myself wondering if the bamboo grove I planted on the eastern edge of the forest is also being rejuvenated by this all-restoring rain.
I contemplated returning to the city when it became clear that the rain was not the expected gentle shower, but rather an incessant, insistant, steady soaking rain. But then the solitude enveloped me, and all thought of flight disappeared. Hours of reading and meditation beckoned, and in the end this was the most engaging prospect. Now the light fades early, the lake is enshrouded by clouds, and the rain drums lightly, hypnotically, on the tin roof. I sit at the window and look out on the splashes of raindrops covering the surface of the lake, and finally yield to the beckoning fireside, and return to my book.
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Drifting Away
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Posted:Oct 27, 2009 1:45 am
Last Updated:Mar 8, 2010 12:36 pm 35759 Views
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I've been drifting away from alt and it's world for a while. Refreshing. As Woody Allen says, God didn't like reality, but it was the only place he could get a good steak. There is also a zen saying: a painting of a rice cake does not satisfy hunger. I attended a tea ceremony today performed by Kobori Sojitsu. The Japanese know how the term "master" is supposed to be applied.
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Dreamer
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Posted:Oct 3, 2009 3:29 pm
Last Updated:Jan 22, 2010 7:22 pm 36164 Views
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If you want to exchange writing ideas, or just start a dialog, with me, leave a comment here. I'll keep your comments private until we determine that we can make them public.
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Wench
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Posted:Oct 3, 2009 12:57 pm
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 1:24 pm 36025 Views
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Leave me a note here, if you're interested in getting together, letting me know how to contact you, and I'll get back to you. I'll keep your note confidential, so no-one else will see it.
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Signs and Divination
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Posted:Sep 26, 2009 1:32 pm
Last Updated:Jan 13, 2010 6:31 pm 35559 Views
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I live on two levels: the hard-bitten and pragmatic world of international politics in which I make my reputation and the erotic and magical world where I find my solace. I find joy and fulfillment in both.
Since my sojourn with K___, my dancer, a magical person whose gift of a gigantic dreamcatcher she made for me became the basis for my name, I've become even more sensitive than I already had been to other dimensions of our existence. Thus, when a falcon-like bird took up a station on a broken branch midway up the lone oak that stands like sentinel above the dock by my lake, I noticed that it's markings were unlike other birds of prey, and wondered what it's presence and unusual appearance meant. I've become accustomed to these birds acting as harbingers of changes. Then when I later emerged naked from the lake after a prolonged swim and was circled twice by a red-shouldered hawk flying at treetop level, I paid attention. This bird is my sexual totem. It's appearance has in the past heralded impending sexual encounters. So I took note of the direction of its flight when it departed, toward the North-northwest. The direction of the departing flight of this totem has in the past indicted the direction of the residence of the woman involved. My encounters with K___ frequently were heralded similarly. Something is afoot.
Oracles from the appearance or flights of birds are nothing new. Ancient battles were fought or avoided on such divinations. The Oracle at Delphi made a mighty reputation, and a prosperous living, from amorphous predictions based on such things. It is an imprecise and occult art. I do not presume to judge the validity of such phenomena as indicators of impending events. I do intend to enjoy their benefits, if they materialize.
Four days of solitude in the forest have heightened my sensitivity to my surroundings. The silence speaks to me. I feel the presence of the unseen. New energies surge within me. Change is coming.
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