Archive - Prettyintelligentprincess

I've often thought about this. Well, sometimes I do not think about it at all...it's as though I remain in a vacuum..then, other times it consumes me. So, I've decided to list why I think I do it. Why I have this desire or craving or lust to have sex, close, intimate,beautiful, whole-hearted sex with men whom sometimes I barely know, sometimes I have spent six months getting to know, or with the men whom I call lovers as I have known them for a while and would always return to their bed if they asked me...because I feel something tangible and emotional with them; a connection....

Furthermore, as a woman, why is it I feel or expect to be judged more than the unfaithful husband? Would an unfaithful husband sit here and contemplate like this? Would an unfaithful husband expect the barrage of disapproval I expect...in people's hearts..not just in their words?

With a lover I enjoy kissing. It's erotic and beautiful and incredibly intimate.
I feel admired and I feel sexy. How can I put this: it staggers me that a man finds me so sexy and so desirable and wants to kiss every part of me; wants to lick every part of me; wants to experience and look at every part of me.
Many times I have been flattered about the 'style' 'harmony' 'intimacy' 'uninhibited' attitude I have towards sex. Please understand I am not a Karma Sutra expert!..I just enjoy the 'connection' with a 'like minded' soul... and that is so hard to find. When I find it I give my all. I actually give up my soul I think and as I grow older and wiser I am careful to avoid the leap into love that I made with Darcy. This has protected me and has helped me to keep my passion undiluted and special.
I cannot and will not share my bed with any available man.
Connection. There, I've said it again.
Connection with G. He's still around and I know the comfort with him will be lovely if we ever combat the time and distance, yet I can talk to him as a friend without discomfort...even if we never share a bed again.
Connection with FF. Too special to dissect here. Intelligent and passionate and in my heart. I am thankful for the Pennines etc creating the distance as I know that we would be short-lived otherwise! Too tempting and we'd be in trouble so soon...
The Director: a very physical, uninhibited yet intelligent and articulate connection with a caring nature and a frequency allowed through reasonable locality. A dark horse, I don't need to know more.
No name.
History slowly day by day...he has much to lose and has already been stung...big time.
Yet I crave what we have and what we can create.
I crave the comfort of gentle...and self-centred!!!...G.
I yearn for the warmth and passion and intelligent conversation of FF...there is indeed a connection I never wish to risk breaking. His few words of reason that filter through restore me and guide me. Placate me. I miss him...and no one else at all...except Darcy who has sealed himself away and can never be refound.

I find what I need.
I take it.
I enjoy it.
I give it back.
An endless game of giving and receiving.
Kept in check.
Kept in secret.
My emotions are played with yet no one else's must be.

I cannot think of anything else now...I hope someone somewhere out there understands...even just a little.

Gently shutting the door behind her, she walked in, heart beating, high heels tip toeing...she'd texted her arrival as arranged. it was an essential part of the script. She was now in role.
Curtains closed, a golden hue filtering in from the sunshine outside, she knew he was there, behind her, watching her, waiting for her.
She did not turn around.
She resisted, but smiled slightly at her reflection in the mirror, forcing her eyes not to see him, not to notice him.
But she wanted him.
She wanted to feel his hands on her skin.
She wanted to feel the moistness of his kisses.
She craved the hardness of his cock.
She would leave, three hours hence and she would leave satisfied, filled with him, in her head, deeply inside her most intimate places and the pressure of his hands and fingers still playing inside her cunt.
Slowly, she dropped her skirt...zip loud in the silence of the room.
Falling to the floor she stepped out of it, deliberately, slowly, bending over to retrieve it, high heels still on.
He watched the delicate satin which covered her voluptuous backside and the strip of fleshy golden skin between her underwear and the lace tops of her stockings.
White this time.
Virginal this time.
Showing through her blouse,the ribbon, criss-crossing along the back of the matching basque...a back he would be very familiar with, three hours hence.
He knew now this was altogether too tempting, too ambitious, too precocious....she was too tempting and the wetness from the end of his cock was enough to show how much he would struggle with the next few minutes.
Now standing, watching herself, she dutifully undid the buttons of her blouse, gently swaying and still watching, enjoying the view and knowing he was enjoying it also....slipping it down over her shoulders, her arms...it too fell, yet there it lay,there it would stay.

Revealing the basque she'd rumoured about days earlier, she still continued to stand, back to him...not turning round, not playing by the rules. She wanted him to be the mirror, to get a full and clear view...bending over towards the glass, her hands slid onto the soft skin inside her thighs, moving out and over her smooth arse, fingering the lace of her panties, teasing him, not revealing anything, yet slipping her fingers inside her cunt, now hot and wet and desperate, slipping her fingers in, around and then quickly into her mouth as she watched herself suck her juices.

Slowly, she slid her underwear down, only slightly....and her wet fingers began to slide inside her, one finger then another as she reached over and moaned, wiggling her backside provocatively as she pushed her fingers deeply inside her...growing impatient for his touch, his tongue, his skin...his voice.

Knowing he would not be able to wait much longer, she kept her thighs closely together, controlling the building orgasm which was now stirring as her G-spot reacted to the deep probing inside the tightness of her peachy backside. Reaching over, she grabbed the gleaming vibrator which had been lying on the bed, his post London- Lunch Soho purchase, and slowly, gently, firmly, eagerly she slid it inside her, fully bending over now, wanting him to see the whole show...but wanting him touching her as she came; which she knew would be soon and hard and wet and loud.

Warm hands on her skin, he was there and he was urgent and he was demanding...
He was directing.