Prettyintelligentprincess

It's raining again...sick of it.
Can't hang the washing out and I certainly don't want to put the heating on to dry the washing and I'm reluctant to use the tumble-drier for long these days.

Going to see if I can cap the energy bills today, I may have left it too late, but can see.

Anxious. Anxiety. Not long until another start at The Building of Betrayal and it is a fresh new year and it will never be like it was last year; yet it will never be like it used to be; the trusting days.

Bitch is still there, but rather demoted...a new line manager oversees her and her previous domain...yet Bitch is still my line manager.

I did survive didn't I. You all said I would and you helped so much.
Thank you.

God I'm shattered!
I've spent this morning taking Budding Vet to swimming lessons, then back home to tidy, wash, hang washing out and make a picnic!
Then we went off to the Maize Maze...it was a bit muddy, but we didn't have to wave our flag in the event of being lost. In fact, we never ever could have got lost as Sportacus made enough bloody noise arguing with his sister about being 'the leader' ...the whole of the surrounding countryside would have heard us!
Good fun though as they played on the children's area afterwards and I managed to relax a little and read my latest novel.
We found several four-leaved clovers on our way back to the car.
They are supposed to bring luck aren't they?

They are darker now,
longer and I don't like it.
The darkness surrounding the house and melting into the windows and laughing at the open curtains.
I don't like it.
Longer nights and darker nights.
Darkness filling the hours of day.
Filling the confusion of mind.
Filling the sense of breath.

I don't like it.
The whiteness of breath will be here soon and the whiteness of curled grass as the frost throttles and strangles.
It's the beginning of the end
of the year...
I don't like it.

My skin and my mind crave the warmth and golden glow of beautiful summer reflections...
My blood is beginning to freeze..
as my heart becomes cool and my passion turns the colour of blue.

Parking the car and switching shoes...the red satin not the pair to drive in, she jumped out and began the long walk across the carpark..
She saw him and fought the sinking heart..
'This is for you,' he said, thrusting an envelope in her hands..she could see his were shaking. She smiled, almost giggling...' Well, thank you...'
The room, silent as she entered, following the instructions to the letter...back to the door, legs slightly apart...she waited.
He entered...slid the chain over the door and she still sneaked a look...and closed her eyes...and began to imagine...
The skirt slid up over her thighs...bare bottom and freshly exfoliated thighs!
'Bend over,' he said.
She did.
'Beg for me,' he said.
She did.
A sharp beautiful slap on her bottom and again and again made her gasp.
She fell to her knees.
Hands tied with the soft rope as she obeyed him...

Yet..his reluctant manner
his reluctant tone..
And far from reluctant desperate fucking turned her off...away...and she noticed the eagerness; the naivity; the virgin adulterer...and she felt cold and sad and pity inside...

An orgasm...mostly self-induced, later...she embroidered her departure after a shower.
12 miles later, in a silent house she stood under the steaming water again and washed and washed and wished and wished...but the reluctance of showering away a sex-filled scent from her wanting body would be such a long time away...she knew that; felt it; knew it...she would have to wish it some more.

She misses him and thinks he must see such a whore in his eyes.
One he never paid for.
She was that cheap.

Well, Mansion Man...just did everything except have me in the good old fashioned sense of the word...and I so need a manly having.
But, lovely company and he has since sent jolly texts from his laddish jaunt in Vegas...
Mr Hotel has been steamy and raunchy in a very quiet sense and he will be sensible and careful; we talk a little and wait for the moment to come. Ultra organised and ultra careful I sense.
G is pushing for a meet ...still and I have managed to avoid and gently discourage, knowing what a fragile state he is in...helped him with a couple of administrative things and he may be moving to Edinburgh if things go well. I am glad for him as he sounded desperately unhappy.

But, the MAIN news....finally...it is here; the time has come....France makes his journey to see me tomorrow, some couple hundred miles or so...and we have talked and talked and talked...and he checks in, not far from here tomorrow night. We meet the next day...and I'm under instructions not to wear knickers! OOh divine!

the only weird thing...it's the same hotel as my sexy bondage shenannigans with IP! Just hope it's not the same room!

And so it came to pass....Elizabeth Bennet gets all caught up in Austen...soon....and Tess of the D'Ubervilles is coming (most probably on a Sunday night I reckon).....YIPPEE!!!!!

Along with the raunchy feisty Tudors...I will feel pulsating satisfaction whilst drowning beneath the vibrant exuberance of what is known as Ye Olde Costume Drama....

Please excuse this lady as she feels faint and may swoon at any time!

Mmmm...a little sore..only happens usually when I'm pre-menstrual...
On closer investigation this evening, my right nipple appears to have...well, what can I say...a slight bruise; a love bite; small, purple, scattering remains of passionate attention...
I can still smell his ardour and his languid enjoyment...amidst the beautiful scent of my perfume...my favourite...it was there, boxed and subtle next to the glasses of my favourite smooth red...

Down the moving ramp and then the escalators;out of the doors across the lights and under the bridge...only a stone's throw away from the station...A lovely place in the centre of the city which we've used before.Drawn curtains and a huge beautiful bed...one I have yet to sleep in...

Did he or did he not? (Refer back to Mansion Man Rendezvous if you need a little guidance)

The Building of betrayal was buzzing today...the Plurals milling about, pieces of paper clasped in one hand and moble phones in the other.
I wandered through the throng; photo here and there; a hug; a thank you; a smile...
Looking over he was watching me...the old timer; the one who was lapping up the glory...the previous one..the one...the single one who drove me into the blackness last September.
The egotistical bastard I had always been loyal to.
The egotistical bastard who pierced my soul and left me empty and worthless.
The egotistical bastard who last year, and the year before and the year before that, hugged me and kissed me and congratulated me.
The egotistical bastard who,dropped his gaze and never approached me today.
Well...Mr Ego Bastard, what a shrivelled, pathetic man you are. So small and so weak and so insignificant that you have no confidence to tread my path.
I walked past you several times...close...and still...I wonder if I should have stood in your way. You actually feared me.
Then Bitch 2 turned up...oh how refreshing...I looked, she could not hold my gaze...as I swept past. Small, eyes darting...fleshy body in those so unattractive trousers and pumps...I felt nothing as the silence engulfed the gulf.
Leaving...I sought my own space and my own place with Angel on the phone...away and frustrated with the complete cock up..AGAIN!!! Things will unravel, yet I want the solace of the time left before the madness of Autumn begins...
Some time to be someone's lover, someone's fantasy and someone's saviour...some time to be me.

To have me or not to have me.
To take me or not to take me.
To fuck me or not..that is the question.

Tomorrow, between a family trip, high profile football matches,(a guest..he does not play!),shows at the West End ...and an exclusive Vegas trip with the boys...he has found a window...just for me. This is the first time we will meet since a dark snowy day in the winter months... ( See Stockings In The Snow) and it's of course five star!
I'm amazed, enthralled and excited all at the same time...it is the first time I will see him knowing just how wealthy this man must be, yet not knowing everything and , indeed, not wishing to. I have never suspected the depth of his business empire and to be honest it actually makes no difference. He is exactly the same with his desires and his humour and his conversation as before and you would never suspect either if you saw him...well, perhaps if you glimpsed the labels on his clothes or shoes ...but down to earth and with a very traditional accent...he has pursued and pursued...he has chatted and laughed and confided and listened for months...however he has been very sweet in times of need and darkness...remembering my love for a certain wine and a certain perfume...
I've been silent with him for months too as I did not deem it proper to talk to him when with others...yet I now know that appears to fuel his desires!I feel stronger with that knowledge.
I never ask.
I never expect.
He reads out poems that his son has written and his love and pride for the boy is tangible...
We have an agreement about condoms this time! Oh for goodness sake, what a silly man...
This time, I have demanded he fucks me...no matter how many orgasms I have without him actually fucking me, I still want that full union and flesh full on flesh...I want to feel possessed by him, if only for a short time...and I know he can do the most spectacular things with his hands and fingers and my G-spot...but really there is no excuse this time. Cherry flavoured will nestle in my handbag before joining the fun.
The room is booked.
I could be soon coming in a five star near you....!

Alone now.
15 or so here earlier...I made a buffet and tea and cake. Lots of children too! It was loud and noisy and lovely. Some of the family staying here tonight as they have travelled from afar and the funeral is at 11 tomorrow.
It's a strange day...it will be still when I wake in several hours.
Her son was here; the youngest; the very image of her, yet soft and gentle and eloquent and so lovely. We talked and he was polite and so well-mannered...it just took me by surpise...just turned 12. That is all. He has lived with his father for many years...you can see that.

Earlier, an hour or so before everyone was due to arrive...I fell asleep upstairs; tired and still not feeling well....when the most sexy photos fluttered through onto my screen...Mr Hotel. He will be one hell of an experience and I'm excited....
There is no rush with him, everything seems to be organised well and with thought. Still I slept until I heard the first car arrive...snuggling under my robe I opened my eyes...just...just enough to be intrigued...and there he was on my tiny phone screen...filling it rather handsomely!!!
I smiled.
I ignored.
I then failed to ignore and felt a fizzy tingle in my lacy undies...

Taking about 30 seconds, I shuddered through onto my persistent fingers and squeezed out the warmth of unrequited lust...

Warm and flushed and sated, I changed, quickly washed and skipped downstairs...tonight's hostess...

Secretly with the most to offer...and secretly with swollen labia....and secretly with warmth still seeping into my new underwear....

'Lovely dress xxxx'
The text glimmered into view.Surrounded by books and colour, richness oozing from words and literature...I waited;pounding heart and naked beneath the red dress.
Failing spectacularly to stalk me,we dissolved into smiles and giggles as soon as he walked in..propriety of the British Library shattered...
He enclosed me,
Held me,
Murmured to me...
I could feel every contour, every desire..
In such a public place...

His longing was beyond tangible as we walked past the silent statue..who just glanced, he's seen it all before.

Drinks and talk and touch and kisses..
Lipstick on the glass.
Glass lift to the floor..
Only inside our room is inside my head now.

Frantic and hard and needy...
I protested as he lifted me up, my back on the wall...
Red dress above my thighs...and he was consuming me,filling me,fully, completely...

Slipping and shouting, my back hit the bed...
Coolness of the duvet cushioning as he penetrated me again and pushed and pushed and pushed.
Feeling myself opening, relaxing, accommodating, there was no pain, no discomfort with his body, the sight of which had scared me quite honestly in earlier days. I let him fill my soul and my body cried out.

I have tried so hard to let go and perhaps the beauty of all this, is that, I never have.
This is again the Darcy factor...and again and again it eludes me...that is quite right though...there can never be such a beautiful time again.

MMMMmmm...tipsy and heady....huge sore, hurting throat..taking painkillers all day. Felt achey last night and early hours...
But so drunk now the pain has gone.
France anxious about revealing too much last night....told him not to worry...
Mansion Man visiting 'sister club' in London...and then on family trip from Monday...he wants me Friday...Just need to arrange childcare and have a good shave or wax!
Watched amazing programme tonight ref women having surgery on their labia...crikey....all I can say is, I feel very very lucky...but my heart went out to the women who would endure so much pain.
Rearranged the den...we have a room for the anticipated au pair...and I have a new den...warm and delightful.
I have exchanged messages with Mr Hotel today...it will be beautiful and addictive reading when finally it happens.

Oh..just a word about the V festival: Amy darling, you looked dreadful and sounded the same...I am a fan of yours and you even managed Glastonbury with some tripping...
But tonight...you floundered...but hey...you shoot up your veins don't you...and you are still living...but for how long.
Limited life span. Make the most of it...and just don't get pregnant in the meantime..
A child, wretched across the body of his mother.just before the machine is switched off
..makes you cry...and vomit.

France is falling in love with me.
Wife ...loves some multi-millionaire...well how convenient.
He was rather drunk tonight...
He wants to send me flowers, yet has no address...
He has his own wine ...
Own label...
Again, I ask, why is it these wealthy and successful men are on websites for sex, yet seek so much more?

Musically speaking...I loved Muse tonight at the V festival...remarkably powerful and the Sergio Leoni haunting theme...beautiful.

Mr Hotel has a whole range of sex toys and fantasies...short term exploits really as far as I can see...fast and fun...
Let's wait and see.

I need someone to love and the Darcy factor keeps eluding me.

Busy day today...children; shopping and swimming lessons. Trying to get things organised for a big family landing on Tuesday evening,the night before the funeral.
His parents do not know he uses heroin yet they will be there..apparently...
As a member of the family of the 'druggie, scummy no good, dead leg..' partner of their precious son, I feel strange. Angry and defensive.
I am very intelligent.
Strong.
Sensible.
Living a reasonably healthy life, my red wine never disturbs my daily morals...I never sold my children's toys or clothes they received for Christmas...on Boxing Day, for my next fix.
I have never prostituted myself to get my next kick either, although I leave myself wide open here for judgement...
I would never wish my children to be in an environment I would not wish to be in myself. I would never have Christmas Eve with them in ill fitting nightwear and no Christmas tree and no presents....waiting to sell their grandparents' presents when her children returned home the next day...
How could she?
How dare she?
Yet heroin eats and steals reason and love and kindness.
Finally, it stole her, their mother.
Who receives the punishment; who pays for the crime....they do...
I am from remarkably good 'stock' so to speak and I really hope they do not look down on me...I will go for the jugular if that is the case. They have no idea of their son's lifestyle...
There is no gathering after her body is burnt...just the brothers and the sister who are now left; the youngest dying first...
We will sit quietly somewhere with no one else...her pond life acquaintances...well... we have nothing but contempt for.... can disappear into the benefit-filled bedsit background from which they crawled... The children will be at home with someone else..our children...

We do not want them contaminated in any way ...they are too young and I have no desire for any heroin addict 'mate' of the deceased, their auntie, to ruffle their hair...pure bleach would not get rid of the dirt...

France has been silent tonight and I feel glad.
Mr Hotel...
Images of expectations and realisations are filling my inbox.

The beauty of brushes and oil.
The beauty of frills
Of satin,
Of leather,
Of lace,
Of ruffling frills....delightful in the exciteful.
Delicate restraints...empty on the bedspread, waiting to be filled.
Just like the emptiness in me.

Epitome of the tease,
Until the paint cracks.

I am shattered and amazingly it's not solo-sex induced!If I have to look in any more rock pools for the 'Egg' I'll scream...'Waterhorse, Legend Of The Deep' has completely riveted Sportacus' imagination!

He is convinced we'll find a Waterhorse's egg on the beach and has insisted we search almost every rock pool, puddle, lake and stream. So much so, we failed to see the incoming tide had surrounded the elevated sand we were on at the time which caused a great deal of hysterical commotion as we sploshed through the water towards the dry beach!

Treasure troves are always there on the beach aren't they. I have today's treasure next to me...drying out...the stale seawater smell just wafting over every now and again. The shells have all been washed. I didn't get a look in once we got home. All the sinks in the house were being used and the taps turned on...

I kept floodwatch, just in case. Wouldn't be the first time.

I've promised we'll take the buckets and spades next time and a picnic...no doubt the weather may intervene. It was a good, active afternoon out with hardly a penny spent...except when Sportacus decided he couldn't wait!

'Meet me in _______er this afternoon if you are free'
No 'x'
No 'please'
Well bloody no thank you!
The very cheek of the man!
She was right...again...that SJ woman! She needs to move into clairvoyancy! Indecent Proposal must be getting withdrawal symptoms already. So much for him telling wifey he promised to end things.

He has a lovely body does Mr Hotel.
The photos prove it.
He has a passion for restraint toys.
He owns some. A flogger too. A male chastity belt!!!
He adores sexy lingerie. He adores sexy play.
He is married and once again the wife is so proper and so ignorant.
He is affluent. Very.
Director of ____ ____ and I wonder why the hell I never managed to slip into a marriage that would sexually consume me. Close to my motorway, he has potential and his contact has been exactly right and proper and arousing... and already I can feel the spark that France does not have.
He has engaged me quickly and with purpose; something sensual will unfurl...
Today...well...I've been rather naughty... and I can't believe he has consumed me so much! Yet Mansion Man is back and he has a mission...his words today rekindled those moments and warmth under the cold duvet I had all those months ago. Not once, but twice he talked me through the most shuddering orgasms with his subtle yet direct words...what he says, oh it turns me on, completely.
Late, this afternoon, hub 5 minutes away from home...I was on the brink of my second cumming!!! MM called and talked and encouraged and listened and appreciated as my soaking knickers were wrapped around my ankles, my skirt on the bedroom floor...I shouted and gasped when filling myself with imaginative delights...still he was there when the pleasure slowed and the heartbeat held me together.
Am I tempted to meet him again? Yes. His gifts of my favourite wine and perfume so gentlemanly...and five star always.
But, he has not arranged as yet and we have talked...and you will find out!
Am I tempted with Mr Hotel...Yes. Indeed I am. We seek similar. We will enjoy the same.
Am I tempted.
Am I tempted.
Never have I not been so.

Where has Tobstv gone? Anyone know?

Mansion Man watched the match then strolled off to his gentlemen's club with his circle of gentleman friends. Yes. His club. Is there nothing this man does not actally own? Yet he still texts me and maintains contact which I find surprising, flattering and enjoyable all at the same time.
I had a pleasant sextual text session with France last night and I listened to him climax alone in his big empty bed, in his big empty house somewhere in _____shire. Wife away sorting out bereavement issues. He lives too far away for something to be permanent between us I feel, however saying that, there is no spark really. For him yes, but for me...no. He's a complete virgin in the game of adultery and I feel more in control than he is which sometimes does not feel as sexy.
There is someone closer though, that person of interest I mentioned from 'that' site; loves lingerie, high heels and illicit encounters; a director of something or other. Something sensual may unfurl...
Back to now. My responsible, working mother, domestic side Application forms for an au pair completed for two agencies and preparations beginning at home to get a room ready for our prospective new family member. Apprehensive yet satisfied it is the right way forward at this moment in time for our family. What surprised me, when looking at all the families who were asking for help, how many 'ordinary' working families there are. You no longer have to be considered rolling in it, with a huge mansion amidst acres of gardens to qualify for an au pair. I found that refreshing and very sensible. I'm determined to make it work as it should help the stress levels considerably if we treat our chosen au pair in the right way, respectfully, and follow the advice and guidelines. The lady at one of the agencies I contacted yesterday just 'felt' right and we'll probably use her agency as opposed to the other, that looks fab on the web but, as yet has not managed to answer the phone in person! Not a good sign really.
Lunch time.
We're having cheese sandwiches for our picnic in the garden, then myself, Sportacus and Budding Vet will have a drive out somewhere and let off some steam!

Oh God I need a deep, thrusting, heavenly, loud shag!
I do! Sorry to be so blunt/crass/vulgar/unrefined!!!!
I need sex.
I need some touch, flesh on flesh.
Hard, soft, slow, warm and all squelchy!!!
MMmmmmm.
Two weeks until France ties me up and bends me over and fucks me for several hours. Lustful and passionate.

Don't believe this...Mansion Man is texting right now!
Could this be a sign?
I'll get back to you

Well, for those of you that remember...today was supposed to be the day of my outdoor pursuits with IP. Please refer back to, 'No Knickers Tomorrow...'
however, as you know he is no more.
Smiling earlier as I was daydreaming, looking out of the rain drenched windows across the sodden lawn...I envisaged the use of a dinghy or other floating craft to assist us in our woodland fantasy; being passionately taken on the forest floor would be rather a damp and puddled affair, not to mention how bloody freezing I'd be with my clothes all torn off! My poor high heels would have been ruined and imagine if we'd been in the midst of spanking fantasy no.3 for instance and then the heavens opened with so much power and might...
I'm goosebumpy just thinking about it.
Also, hub arrived home early today! Unannounced! Severe weather had affected something or other...
Just imagine if he'd come home and had found the house empty, children stashed in childcare and his wife nowhere to be found!
Now, I'm blushing just thinking about it!

So much for my full adulterous diary then...

I've completely given up on The Director.
G wants to meet but he's too vulnerable I think right now and I'd prefer not to. Being friends is much better with him.
France is arranging to meet in the next fortnight.
Therefore, I'm at a loose end and being rather naughty; I'm back on 'that' site and man in the van has reappeared!!!!
However, the calibre I require is higher than that as you all know...and there's one who has caught my eye...but nothing else to tell I'm afraid.

Looking forward to a sexy and passionate encounter with France as and when and in the meantime...well, my toys have had a very good rogering indeed and they will continue to do so!!!

Remember how I used to write this way? I thought I'd revisit...just for nostalgia's sake...

Today... I awoke and remembered the nightmare last night...ghosts and macabre things inside a room and I was trapped and crying...

Today...I hugged Sportacus so many times. He looked so gorgeous. A real handsome chap!

Today...I heard from G who sounds fragile and alone and it scares me.

Today...France and I talked and our first meeting was tentatively arranged.

Today...I texted FF and he was withdrawn and contemplative and sensitively sombre...I miss him and still desire him so much.

Today...I searched au pair agencies as that is what must happen, not just a name from the internet!

Today...I contemplated the funeral and discovered her body was being sent to the coroner a long way away...she was too young to die they said.

Today...I felt the slow strangulation in my throat again.

Today...a lovely voice from the past...unbelievable I know, but Mansion Man is so persistent (SJ remember what you said about wealthy, powerful men always expecting to get what they wanted?)...he made me smile and reflect and converse as he talked about his children, his business interests and his swimming pool! His son is a truly gifted writer and that makes him so proud!

Today...Mansion Man actually told me why he did everything but have full sex with me...no condoms!!! For goodness sake...this is why communication is so important...I had them in my hand bag all along both times.....I have to say I was in no fit condition to discuss them by the time he was pushing me on to my fifth orgasm of the afternoon!

Today...I have worried about work as usual...but not about Bitch...about next week's data.

Today...I have not, I repeat NOT, masterbated! Blimey...as Mansion Man asked, 'Are you ill?'

She died less than five minutes after everything was switched off, reduced, withdrawn. You actually get an information pack when your next of kin dies so you know what happens next etc.
I think the coroner has her body now until it is released. Then the funeral will be organised after that. This is the time when you realise how far and wide this family has become.
Witnessing the macabre deterioration is now over for him and I am glad.
Heroin addict boyfriend said she didn't know when to stop...even for him. Apparently the appropriate term for him is 'user' not addict. He could not stop her for anything he said. She enjoyed what she did. And now she's dead.Believe it or not, he holds down a fairly professional job.
Needless to say, he's organising the funeral side of things as far as I am aware, but the rest of the family will no doubt help. A calm has descended in a 'back to business' type of way.

Hub and I have decided we need an au pair as oppossed to forking out so much money for before and after school care at a local private nursery. It's not just that though, little Sportacus needs a home environment and one to one, especially with his new start at school in September. They both do...instead of being so bored at the after school club, where I know for a fact Sportacus will get bored and then get into trouble. Budding Vet complains it's boring now.
As well as this we both work long hours and my stress levels go through the roof with leaving work, worrying how late I am to collect them, then dashing home and cooking etc. It's exhausting. I am completely trapped should I wish to apply for a post in a different area as childcare is not available before 8am.
Someone who lives in and helps us with the children and around the house a bit too would be such a weight off my shoulders.
Therefore, I have registered on a couple of sites on the internet, but it's a daunting business!
It's like looking for a needle in a haystack! And you have to pay before you can access the details of the au pairs who are interested in your family! Some au pairs have used their initiative and have included coded email addresses in their information which is useful. Unfortunately, I need one with a driving licence too which is proving more difficult. But it's early days and since registering last night 4 people have already expressed an interest.
If anyone reading this has any useful tips, please let me know! Thanks.

He's at the hospital now.
Been there since 4pm when the 'phone call came through from brother 1: 'Best get up here now, she's dying...'
So he went.
'What a waste, what a waste,' he muttered as I drove him, blinking back the tears, the emotion surged inside me again.
He called me at 5pm to say they were finally letting her go, as they were removing the tubes and the machines.
'She's gasping, even though the machine breathes for her, she's struggling. For her own dignity. The doctors have spoken to us, we all think it's best. Her organs are shutting down. It's like she is dying from the inside out...'
They are giving her more drugs. These make her 'comfortable' as she dies. She's still unconscious. It'll be an hour or so...

Budding Vet has already made him a card; she's propped it up on his bedside table...it will break his heart with its wrenching honesty only a child has.
' It's horrid when people die Daddy, but I love you...'

I'll just wait for him to call now.

Empty and filling with red wine. The house is quiet amidst the low murmur of the television. Strangeness and distance and the bewilderment of where she is and why hovers above him; I can feel it.
He's upstairs, sleeping without me, as usual...waiting for the phone to ring; and then we'll know no one is there anymore, feeling lonely, feeling cold.
Can you hear me? Playing over and over in my head...liltingly. Softly. Devastatingly.
Close to tears. Don't know why, they are pushing through from the back of my head and filling my eyes and then falling ridiculously down my face.
My throat has felt constricted during the day..second day of this; usually a sign of stress for me. A slow strangulation.
Missed the intimacy of France today.
Fell into the pages of my book and let it consume me...another one read.
It's even lonely here and I want words to fill my head.
I want whispers to slither into my soul. I want kindness consuming me.
I want too much.
Far too much.
Slinking off now; back to the red wine where the quietness will soothe me.

Drugs.
Stinking, disgusting, vicious.
Clot began in her leg...the vein she was using at the time. Veins shattered. Veins hammered.And the clot spread...and spread and dispersed some more, all the way into her lungs.
She's on life support.
Eyes open.
Mind wide shut.
Staring and vacant.
Tubes hold her up and penetrate her; seeping fluids from her; pumping fluids into her.
A tubular skeleton.
Tubes from her nose.
Tubes in her mouth.
Tubes in her chest.
Her head is lolled to the side, not for artistic reasons you understand.
Mechanical humming and beeping is now her heart; her life support.
Swollen fingers; swollen hands.
Death is waiting, close by...standing just over there, just next to that woman sobbing over her father's bed.
He's dead.
Just gone now...
But he still looks human and strangely naked without tubes.
Standing around her deathly bed,they noticed the smiles.
Smiles beaming from the faded photograph.
Smiles from a childhood almost forgotten.

It was that.
That memory... that made him cry.

Strange how life is.
She is dying today...note pushed through the office door to inform the brothers.That just about sums things up really.Phone calls shattering the early sleepy family scene.

Last chance today. Roll up. Roll up.Last chance to see the thief.Last chance to see the addict.Last chance to see what drugs can do.
Last chance to be the heroin-induced mother.
Barely early thirties and she's dying today.
Almost a year to the day since her own father and no doubt another funeral to pay for.Afterall, we're made of money; it grows from the branches of the apple tree at the bottom of the garden.

She didn't know what to wear on that day.
That day of madness and solace and sin.
She should wear those red shoes
High, gleaming, pointed;
Wickedly smiling from her wanton wardrobe.

'Harlot!'
He'd called her yesterday.
She'd squirmed in warm delight
And opened her legs some more,
Red heels glinting in the bedroom sun,
Shimmering reflections dancing on the mirror.

Desires tangled in her web
Taut and tantalising.
Temptation; she never could resist
Loving the serpent,
Its slimy trail
'What a naughty girl you are...'

Red.
Passion and warmth.
Fire and danger.
A beating heart of blood and love.
She broke out of her garden long ago
When the blossom fell
When the fruit shrivelled.
When the vermillion sunset melted her skin
Into glowing wax.

Just remembered...four nights ago, when under canvas, my 'phone rang...a number I did not know. It was late, after midnight,I was in the throes of orgasmic texting with France....So I ignored it. However, the caller was persistent. So I answered...well picked up and listened otherwise the whole campsite would have heard! A female caller.
I remained silent.
She called again and again. Still, I remained silent...Eventually she stopped and I completely forgot about it until just now...
Maybe, just maybe it was IP's wife...
Now it makes sense.

She found some texts I'd sent...allegedly. He's promised he will put a stop to things...she clearly has no concept that I am only the very tip of a huge iceberg. What's more, if she will not make love to him, then what on earth does she expect? There is no way he will stop doing what he has done for such a long time.
IP sounded most contrite and so very sorry; so very sorry not to have me in the woods. It did appear to be a thorough and detailed, rather flattering message and whether he has told me the truth or not does not actually matter. IP is no more and it's created some breathing space in my adulterous diary.
I'm tense and on edge with the children now. I need some selfish sex time soon.
Also the worry connected with work is simmering in the background...it never goes away. There will be loads to do soon.
The Director's chair can now be filled next week; as well as this an anxious France still wanting flesh as opposed to electronic...but he does live a considerable distance away.

Must dash. Need to pop my knickers on!

'No knickers tomorrow.'
IP's command.
Well, I'll have to think about it...if it's too breezy then knickers it is! And...if I'm too wet, aroused and creamy...then knickers needed...and as that's usually the case..I'll have to send a little lie and take a snapshot with my knickers off...send it and then pull them right back on again!

Men.
Some are consumed by their own desire.
Consumed with their belief they have control.

He will contol me in the flesh...however all else is fabrication..on my part.

'No knickers tomorrow' (See above),
'Imagine how you feel tied to a tree every time you look at one' ( Like I have nothing else to do on my jollies!)
'Call my name every time you climax' (My intimate solo climaxes are my affair and if I so wish to share by calling your name , I will..otherwise...no..far too busy remembering the beautiful touch of others thank you very much!)
'Wear something yellow and send me a photo...'( Yellow bikini on hols...mmm okay).

He is seductive and he is sexy and he is selfish.

Firstly, it was 'bring a spare pair of knickers'
Now, it's, 'Wear nothing you wish to keep, I will be ripping your clothes off...'

We are meeting at a remote village hall car park and then he will 'kidnap' me...Hope to god we don't get spotted and reported to the local constabulary!

'Madam, why are you bound and gagged in the front seat of this vehicle?'

Perhaps the Ramblers association may intervene, ' 'Madam are you in need of help...you appear tied to a tree with your knickers ripped off?'

Children on a nature walk may comment, 'Mummy, why is that man smacking that lady's bottom with a stick?' Flustered and perhaps jealous mummy chides her children and walks away with a sneaky glance over her shoulder...if only...

I feel strangely detached from this approaching event and yet I am not preventing it.

France is texting as I write this...he is anxious now for a meet and I feel safely drawn to him...but is safe enough for me...

G has been in touch and my heart goes out to him. He is suffering professional bullying in the workplace from what I can gather and I sense he is close to breaking point...
No matter what happens or has happened with G sexually, I know we will always have a friendship; a confidence; an understanding. I feel for him as he has described exactly the same feelings I experienced those dark months ago.

I never want those feelings again...

France is waiting..
He's been in touch again today and now he waits for me to talk with him.
He wishes to share his dirty honourable intentions...

He wants so much passion.
He has suffered so much sorrow.
Wife has not had sex with him for years...thought my situation was bad! He is being sincere...not the blagging of 'the hard done by'...he yearns for the physical touch and clearly I am more experienced at this than he...so I have been gentle with the truth.

And...finally!...he has been in touch as I always expected...
The Director...
However...he wishes to meet the day after IP...and I really wonder whether I'll be up for it!....

Also, what is so lost amongst all of this ...is that FF promised a day with me soon...and I have still to hear from him...all of this is nothing compared to a passionate afternoon with him...

I miss the closeness of a loving touch...I miss the beauty of ardent kisses.

You can only take so much rain under canvas...travelled back the 350 miles or so today...a few days early. The second wash is on, tumble dryer turning. I adore the comforting smell of beautiful washing. Clean. So clean.
I miss him. FF. So silent... it really irritates me that he consumes so much of me, yet he feels so wholesome and so soothing as he has so much honesty and so much I wish to have; I wish to embrace. Perhaps..too much from me to him. Who knows. He is adorable when we talk, when he has the patience to listen and when he shows the lovely kindness in his wisdom. I smother myself in everything to numb any pain and any emptiness I feel.
IP fills my dark yearnings for now and I bathe in the sluttish waters he evokes. I feel excited and aroused by his fantasy, which actually is not...as he will take me as his captive; binding me as soon as pleasantries are over. The woods have been chosen; the scenario agreed.
Ripping my clothes, quite literally, as I am tied to a tree he will make me beg...again...for him to fuck me. But he will will spank me first, knowing how sexually heightened I will be.

And I will.
Beg.
Over and over.
I want that.
I want to feel possessed.

I want to feel the power and desire of a man who wishes to try and control me...my formidable nature at times really makes this so difficult as I intimidate so many without ever knowing.

I'm still so flippant with him and so slight with my contact... I know that fills him with a type of confusion. It makes the orgasmic fight so satisfying.

Yet...France has been in touch every day and every night...and I have a sense he is falling in love with me...strange as we have never met. He calls me his darling, his angel ...he wants so much and believe it or not, that is more dangerous ground than the raw, lustful, dirty fucking of IP...I must tread carefully.

Therefore it is a challenge I yearn for.

He wants me in the woods. IP is telling me what will happen a week tomorrow. Clothes ripped off. Spanked arse. Tied to a tree. Hands over my breasts. I will beg him to fuck me. The scenario this time is one of captive and captor.
Wear nothing you wish to keep, he said. Apparently I will know my place!
Well, let him fantasise. To be honest, I cant wait! . . . Speak soon. Still in a field under canvas! PiP x