Prettyintelligentprincess

It rained today...
Funerals and rain...always.

Quirky and fun with Jones today.

I squirmed and played this morning...alone and I stifled my orgasmic noises....

Last night, I gravitated towards the porn channels....I enjoyed....lovely...and then, in the darkness, I lay on the cold leather sofa...and rested on my tummy...enjoying my swollen clit and gorgeous warm cunt as I toyed and waited and slowly...slowly teased my body into a wracking and wet orgasm...
The curtains were open, yet I lay in darkness and knew how ridiculous it was to be playing and perspiring and making myself so damp...so late at night.

Seriously...do other 40 year old women do this?
I enjoy my body tremendously and admire its ability to surprise me and to shock me and to please me...deeply and beautifully.

I enjoy the warmth of a man who wants me.

I enjoy the desire I feel from one who wants me...
Tabloid, broadsheet...I don't mind...
I want the warmth of a body beneath me, below me, next to me, beside and inside me..
The warmth of talk and beautiful interaction...short, sharp, quirky, fun and delicious....delicious and a delightful lovely encounter....

I yearn.
I smile.
I wait.
I know.

I changed earlier....into my nightdress...well it's more of a chemise.
Red.
Satin.
Comfortable in bed.

Earlier, I sauntered around the kitchen, putting things away, dishwasher things, children's things...

Resting on my bare heels as I stacked the cupboard, my sexy scent slowed me down...

Ground me...down to an almost halt as I stopped, still...and savoured my scent...Naked beneath the satin.

It reminded me of the sex I so desperately desire...and reassured me of the womanly body I so enjoy.
To be frank: I adore the scent of my cunt.

'So,' he said, 'what is your alibi?'

She replied, 'You are an educational visit, a trip to the theatre...'
She wanted to add art galleries to that, yet did not find the time before collecting her demanding children.

Oh, she is taking newspapers; to keep them both warm as they bed down on the seats in the middle of the city station.

He requires a broadsheet publication as well as a tabloid.

She knows it will be good news.

I feel detached
In the middle

Flotsam...floating.

Bespoke has reassured me I'm not in the way. Funeral is Thursday. Still feels surreal and still do not know if we will meet...I am not part of him right now.

Jones...do we maintain a 'relationship'....no. Do we feel comfortable...yes, I think we do...he is a trustworthy focus and a genuine encounter-to-be....

Although...at this rate, we'll be kipping down on the benches under newspaper at Euston, sharing a bottle of whiskey.

I tentatively flirt back with Blue...and have been completely swamped with work which removes the sex temptation and sex comfort.

Can hear the police helicopter around outside again...well...could be worse...
Could be Airforce One ...

'I like red,' he said.

Wondering how he would touch her...the first time, she allowed those words to wrap around her imagination the whole day...

Trains and dinner.
Heels and menu.
Talk and fine wine.

'No. We don't rush to lie between the sheets,' he said.

Her impatience will make her blood race.

...there are compartments.

Jones opened a compartment today and on Monday I will book my ticket.

Bespoke's compartment is closed, temporarily, as he has a funeral to arrange.

Blue's compartment is also closed, yet that is to be expected as he yearns for a nice companion and I just feed his sex as and when we both need and when we both can and when we both want.

Ye Olde Darcy compartment is still there...I have been so good and sensible and have not made contact. Yet, I think of him....and remember the first time he kissed me...he undressed me...pushing me back on the huge bed he lifted me and opened my thighs and allowed me to wrap my legs around his beautiful head...as he used his head on me...

I wander around the periphery of sexy lust.

I hope to find the signposts soon.

Lovely to see them tonight on Jools.

I remember buying my first vinyl album, 'Complete Madness'.

My parents were horrified.
I still have it...somewhere stashed away.

Suggs is in remarkable condition! Must be all those fish fingers!

Oh....lovely.
Jones has been in touch although...obtusely...

I slept beautifully tonight...well, this evening...from half four.

I just slept for two hours until I awoke and helped put the children to bed. I changed into my PJ's, loaded the washing machine and snuggled on the sofa in the Family Room.

I look forward to a stress-free weekend...yet I have so much work to do!

Well...silence has befallen upon Bespoke.
She is dying...clearly...

Then it will be the funeral...
And to be honest..I'm not really yearning right at this very moment...for him. The silence is all consuming. It has consumed him. He will be back perhaps...I will be there most probably as I just can't be bothered on the sites right now...it takes a great deal of effort and desire to secure success and I feel a little pooped!

I have a Jones silence.
A Bespoke silence.

So, shall I just creep back into the wings and await my next entrance?

Oh I need a decent bloody shag!

Now Miss Sidejump...it's all your fault!

Never do I think about giving pleasure when I fantasise...I will be surprised if men do too actually if we are talking about some self-play!

However, desiring to be desired...orgasmically so...
oh yes,
oh yes,
oh yes!

Awesome.

Utterly fantastic...

1982 is here and it's dynamite.

Long live Ashes to Ashes.

I look better.
Warmer.
More beautiful.
Fuller.
Rounder.

More intellectually read.

Yet...to paradox this...

I want more.
Need more.
Demand more.
Expect more.
I have higher expectations.
I have the confidence to say what I think and believe.

The heels I wear are higher.
The bras I need are bigger.

The sex I need is sexier.

Oh it's fantastic!
Is it hot where you are too?

Clearly, it's a question of experience..no doubt...I feel sorry for the young; the teenage mums, the first timers...
As a woman gets older and more experienced she has the most beautiful orgasms...but...and it's a big and uncomfortable but...she needs a receptive and intelligent, experienced man..that may not actually be her husband.

Ideally, of course that will be the case.

Let us back track...

One night...12 years old..no idea at all what orgasm was..I had an incredible urge to 'ride' my large teddy bear! So I did...until I had a weird feeling which made me think I was going to die.
Out of breath and a pounding heartbeat later...I pushed Teddy away and fell asleep.

I would use ragdolls, cuddly toys, towels rolled up underneath me...
no penetration...none...Putting them in a long row at the end of the hall, mounting them in the silence of an empty house.

Yet...now as a woman...older and more wise, I feel deeper pleasure than ever before...
Never can I orgasm with my legs on a man's shoulders...how on earth will that stimulate me? Clitorial Stimulation is a given success..yet I...have to feel my thighs gripping the flesh of the pleasurer!
Tongue is good, yet patience is essential...
I shout usually... as it feels so good...so different...and if a lover should be caressing and touching and penetrating with his fingers, his hands...it is deeply erotic and fulfilling.

On my tummy and a lovely fluffy pillow between my thighs...I can take 30 seconds..
Yet an attentive lover can take so much longer..and that is not a bad thing. Feeling someone deep inside is exquisite, yet I need some clit stimulation too....
Unless...it's a bottom thing!

My G- spot is definitely inside my bottom! It must hit my vaginal wall and make me orgasm...yet...a girl of 18 would not know that...compared with, let's say, a woman of 40.

A smothering 69 usually does the trick too.

A hand deep inside gently and then with more passion with all the juices I give, is the racing, speeding high....as the clitoris is stroked, massaged and kissed and licked. That is only something I have learned in the last three months.

The wetness can be drowning and intense.

Yet..the key..the key to orgasms for women is to talk. To communicate...to tell, to demand, to beg, to say no, to say yes, to say harder, softer...to say and to talk...

Girls...you must talk and you must tell him.

Above all...never let someone do something to your body, that you would not do yourself...and play; practise; enjoy and throw all guilt of self pleasure out of the window. Watch youself climax infront of the mirror; look at your labia during and after orgasm. Know it. Feel it.Feel the swelling. Look at the colour of your flesh; see where you flush. Watch your face and understand it is that expression that he adores when you feel so much pleasure.

Open your legs infront of the mirror after you orgasm...listen to your breath, your heartbeat. Look inside the folds of skin and see the wetness that you have made. Touch and feel the warmth; the temperature of your juices should astound you..they are incredibly warm. Ensure you taste yourself...you expect it from him... shouldn't you know your own body, your own self, your own taste?

The more you know about your own orgasm...the more you will enjoy your orgasms with your man.

Common sense...

Yet, us English girls...the girls who do not like to be considered as 'common' 'loose' etc...are still ridiculously shy when it comes to our needs.

Warmth and gold fill the bedroom.
Alone from 6 am...and so tired and deep in sleep I do not hear him leave for work. It is the silence of my son as he snuggles under my duvet that makes me stir.
'Hello Mummy. Where's Daddy?'

'Where's Daddy,' is the first communication of every day.
They know where he is.
It's routine....yet..
'Where's Daddy,' haunts my every morning.

I have done picnics.
Walks.
Drives.
Farms.
Baby animals.
Junk food.
Shopping.
Gifts.
Pocket money.
Homework help.
Easter egg hunts.

And yet...'Where's Daddy...?' is the first communication of the day.

I wonder why they could possibly need me.

Why have I never been picked?

Yesterday, we ate junk food overlooking the runway.

Running around on some old track, the children played at being archeologists, bringing me their 'finds' from time to time.

Noticing my 'phone glimmer, I read the message and smiled; Bespoke yet again, this time on his way to his office in the city.We have a good rapport and he finds me a lovely diversion from the imminent terminal grief that will soon drown him.

'Call?'
'Yes please.'

Short call, but great to hear his voice, it's been over a week.
Giggling a while.
Serious a while.
Feels like we've known each other a while...

This will be an affair well worth the wait.
Eyes very wide open indeed.

It's lovely.
Warm and golden here in my garden.
I can hear the swallows, newly arrived, chattering high in the sky and the dialogue of blackbirds with the quirky interruption of the robins and goldfinches. Harsh complaints from the pair of magpies, ferociously swooping to and from their huge twigged nest after stealing the dried grass from the neighbour's hanging baskets.
The heavy drone of the heavy legged bees as they motor from one flower head to another behind me.

Voices of mundane radio presenters trying to be witty and sharp about the new interest of 'Gold' sang by old singers flutter over the garden fence, interspersed by the drab conversation of the neighbour's daughter with her father.

Lawnmowers spluttering into life as they are tediously pushed up and down, strimmers whining...I hate that noise.

Ahead, small planes flying slowly and deliberately; one flying lesson after another on a day like this.

Shattering any small peace there is, the children ask and argue and shriek and delve in the summer house, dragging out sunbeds and bikes. Summer is coming and I love this time of year...yet inside, my stomach churns, just so slightly, thinking about the forthcoming week.

Oh, I've had such a good play today...
for ages...
with widgets!

So many and so fun.

I've had a right good rummage!

Hope you like the look of what I've added...

I have tweaked some things...but I think I like what I have done so far....

I have received lovely and reassuring communication from Bespoke.

It will happen and when it does...there may be a mini earthquake in an area near you!

I have met him from the 'Extra Marital' site...and managed to have my head turned amidst the dross. In fact I've 'hidden' my profile as I'm tired of the unintelligence...and just want him to be honest. He has reciprocated.

Ironically, I have not 'met' him, yet it's all part of the etiquette and we feel comfortable indeed...

However, just to let you in on what I mean...

Someone sent me a message on the site ..last night I think...and he had literally copied my profile so it would 'match' what he was looking for.

I challenged him.
He really expected me to believe his arsey comments.

'Either give me your photo password or move on. That's what this site is all about.'

No. I don't think so...Dickhead....

If he's like that verbally, he will be so crap with his penis...not to mention any type of respect...

He needs to frequent an unintellegent 'fuck' site I'm afraid.

Needless to say, I blocked him and did move on. I logged out and silently cursed Bespoke...

Miracles happen.
We had a lovely talk today.

It will be so worth it...

This summer I will re read the The Chronicles of Narnia.

I must.
In fact I might begin earlier...I must read again in the light of the 'code.'
All the tales are nestled on the bookcase on the landing...

Enjoyed this programme tonight. Inspiring. Intelligent. Thoughtful.

Have also planned to have 'Wuthering Heights' as my summer read. It's been many years and I enjoy revisiting my Uni days with a more mature and intuitive approach.

Just got back before the rain...back from the tiny farm where the calves were, as well as the chicks and pigs and ponies and...

Angel and I enjoyed our few hours with our children hurtling around the tractors and cooing at the calves. A picnic in the courtyard allowed me to people watch in our comfortable quietness.

Yummy mummies.
Yes, now I know what they are!
It looked like a coffee morning relocation, along with designer clad children peering mostly into their mobile phone screens rather than in the animal stalls...

Smiling, I felt even more comfortable in my warm fleece, well worn 'walking' boots and rather scruffy jeans as The Coffee Morning Crowd delicately picked their way through, I have to say immaculate, farmyard.

'Look at the Swallow,' yelled Budding Vet...and she was right. Swooping under the wires and brushing along the edge of the barn roof was a chattering and bold creature, joined by another as they dipped their wings in the crisp breeze. Sportacus and Angelboy reverberated around, squealing with mischief and behaving with delightful silliness...I wasn't even annoyed as they were so energy-filled compared with the cardboard coffee morning cutouts.

Angel and I chatted about the forthcoming time at The Building, exams, preparation and strategies to deal with the usual Bitch cock ups. She is strong and quietly wise.

Today was again more realisation that family time and 'me' time is so much more important for my stress levels and my head...instead of selling my soul to the Bitch at The Building.

Monday marches closer.

It was there...solitary and high...swooping and fluttering...
Oh how lovely.
Summer is near and I saw it.

Breezy today...but what a lovely day.
I sat in the barbers as my boy transformed into even more beautiful.
I raced to the other hairdressers for Budding Vet to have her fringe cut...and what a pretty face she has.

Earlier we delved in the bookshop and spent the vouchers sent for Easter gifts.
We wandered around the new shopping centre and I managed to buy 'girlie' clothes for my strong and stubborn girl...from New Look!
We sat in a lovely Italian Bistro for lunch and she read her book, hooked...he hooked the lady onlookers, the lady waitress...
And this was before he had his hair cut!

We tried out the crayons and the word search with letters he recognises. Then we shared the garlic bread.

Tomorrow we go to a little farm to feed lambs and to walk amidst woods and streams...and at yet another picnic. Never have I enjoyed a time so much with my children...

Tonight, before they went to bed, they watched Mummy and Daddy's wedding video...

It was the first Uni vacation I refused to go home. I was 20.

My parents wrote to my tutors asking them to 'follow my activities...'

My tutors called me in and warned me...about my parents.

I had enjoyed some days in London with my then boyfriend. I was deeply in love and we had enjoyed our time together in the apartment, just off Oxford Street...Gilbert Square or something similar, I believe... (long live student rail cards!)

Obviously, my parents knew nothing as he was not white. They also funded my University education and my small allowance every week therefore, their ignorance was paramount...

Back in my small Uni town, in Merseyside...I unlocked the door of the small house and climbed the stairs to my room...I was alone as all 'normal' students had returned home to their 'normal' families for the Easter vacation.

I sat on the single bed...kicked off my ankle boots and pushed the remote control...

It was a bewildered and bewildering scene.... 3.30pm or thereabouts...(I had taken the early train from Euston)...and I watched it...unfurling, unravelling on the screen infront of me. I will never forget it.

When the hols were over and Uni resumed...I realised there were some who had been there that day and were pulled up onto the terrace above. They were the lucky ones....
Some had lost dear ones too...
One student in particular...a boy...went off the rails, utterly...

Being a Merseyside Campus...it hit us all hard.

My thoughts are for those who still seek justice.
When will they be listened to?

She dropped her children off at 9 and took the call, his call at 10.

She bought knickers at 1030, then drove home at 1045.
She made the beds, loaded the dishwasher, ran a bubble bath.

By 1130 she had shaved, very closely all around her intimate parts...easy, as they were only done the other day, but she wanted to be smooth for him.
A new razor later, she smoothed her legs and underarms, exfoliated and stepped out of the bath.
At 1145 she squeezed into her basque, slipped into the new panties and rolled on the gloss stockings admiring the lacy tops.
By 12, midday, she received his second call; confirmation that he would be there at 1.

At 1230, she brushed her teeth and applied her makeup - not much, afterall it's an ordinary day and some of her students and colleagues will probably see her as she walks to the meeting point.

At 1245, she made the call to her husband. Telling him she was fine as were the children and she would collect them at 5 (at the latest.) Yes, evening meal was organised and she would ensure she popped into town to do those things he needed doing.

Bye Darling, see you later.

At 1250 she started the car, the conspicuous one and drove to the place where everyone knows everybody...or so they think.

She paid for the carpark ticket at 1256.

She walked towards the station.

'Hello Miss!'

Student no. 1 on his bike.
'Hello Alexander.'

'HI MISS,' a group of 4 girls, loud, make up-clad near the church yard on the opposite side of the road.

She smiles and waves and is relieved she does not look too dissimilar from an ordinary working day.

Turning the corner. 1 minute to go. She sees his car and forces a relaxed walk.

It's 1 o' clock exactly.

She opens the door, afterall he's watched her approach in the mirror. She quickly slips onto the cream leather seat, gently closing the door.

She looks at him.
She smiles.

He smiles back as he starts the car and switches off his radio. He's now off duty.

'Hello Miss,' says the policeman.

Alright, I concede...you were right. All along. It was not my last time with Blue.
I smiled as I saw his shirt hanging there...buttons and numbers all ashining...as I felt him take all of me inside his mouth again and again and I desperately tried to push his head away...until he pinned my arms down and I writhed and begged.

I am sated.
Sated and fulfilled.

Bruised.
Sore.
Gently so.

He is beginning to know my body; he knows when I am on the brink. He knows what he needs to do...how to make me lose that control I am so protective of.
Wore the basque today...delicate rose...with silky knickers and 'nude' lacy hold up stockings.
Heels of course.

Receiving pleasure, for him, is ...watching me, making me, experiencing me...when I orgasm.

The fact that I soaked my stockings, his bed, him and all the towels he had ready...as I sat astride him just enhanced our saucy afternoon.

How naughty. How lovely. How intimate.

Imminent family grief prevents Bespoke from making the move I want him to make.

Blue is pestering and I am ignoring...

Should I join a convent?
No, I can't, as there were three minutes last night...marital obligation....

Last night? Nope...at three this morning...a few moments after I slipped into bed, naked as it was so warm...and he stirred and I was so numb with Merlot, I obliged...squeezing my muscles hard to push him out so he he would not climax...and I might...

But it had the opposite effect as I felt him hard and desperate ...I raised my bottom, on all fours...and rested my shoulders down...and squeezed him out a couple of times...sensing he was close...

I wanted to be closer...I wanted to shudder with pleasure and sweetness yet he collapsed into me and rolled off.
I slipped into a deep sleep and felt the cold wetness when I woke today...
I showered and washed and scrubbed.

Later, amidst the silence of an empty house I writhed and played and climaxed twice...Ms Sleek my visual fantasy, my desire. I relaxed on the duvet and felt the warmth of the sun across my back. I slept.

I felt peaceful.

Oh...oh..oh...

Eric

How much I would NOT kick you out of my bed!
Even though you drive a Renault.

You are a beautiful man.

It blazed...all day.
Warm.
Lovely.
My face just glows.

They rummaged at 6 am to see what the Easter Bunny had left.
They ate chocolate before 10 am!
They searched in the garden....Egg Hunt.
They boiled eggs.
They painted them.
They rolled them.
They painted their special Easter cups.
They made finger puppets.

We ate Easter Dinner under the umbrella on the decking...

We played games.
We listened to the birds and watched the constant stream of huge planes flying over the ocean towards America...
We watched Robin, Dunnock and Dove grace the bird table...
The Falcon took our breath away as he flew into the pigeons sitting on our aerial...knocking one down and then going for the kill...

The garden fell silent.
The trees stood still.
The sky was empty...

They all knew death was present...and we waited. Silent.

The beautiful bees buzzing above the trees...the magpies raiding the straw from hanging baskets to dress their huge nest...
the green finches flew back...

and sang and sang...

And I stretched out on a lovely comfy sun chair smelling my beautiful boy's golden hair as he rested on my tummy and clasped his arms around my neck.

I asked for a kiss.

'Mummy, have you got lipstick on?'

Not played today (masturbated that is)...

Not watched porn...yet. Or last night.

Not sent rude pics to Mansion Man. (I seriously wonder if he needs them to get aroused actually)

Not spoken to Bespoke.

Not sent anything naughty except the 'eggs' reference!

Have worn lovely knickers.

Have behaved and not emailed anyone on any 'naughty' site...

Sin...I have tried hard today to be good.

'I like some more than others,' said Jones...

I mused and pondered..then just thought...fuck it...and wrote,

I've never tried them..the naughty ones'
(or something similar as I've since deleted...)

'I was being dirty. Rude. Unclean.'

'erm....I just meant Easter eggs,' he replied...

Really...sexy, sex toy 'eggs' I've never tried.

Am I missing something?

Or...People Make You as Complicated As they Want You To Be....

I posted this on Creative Writers for some bizarre reason...well...not quite that bizarre, I was absolutely piddled...

Someone quite dear to me just had the wrong idea...and yes...I am talking about you.

I create a strange representation of me.

I head from my lovely MLKtoday.
A surprise.

I was asked for yet another bottom shot today by Mansion Man...and no...I never did!

Bespoke and I talked....it was lovely.

I think Jones enjoyed learning about the Easter Bunny!

I will make Paris...just you watch!

Today, I sent messages to Bespoke and I heard from him.

Today we made a date.

Today I bought beautiful shoes.

Today I bought two super sleek dresses from Tesco!

Today I sent Mansion Man a picture of my bottom! (It will give me respite a while ...believe me)

I dwelled on Jones and feel he is so disappointed in me.

Today I found out he has sleep phobia too and I felt comforted.

Today Blue is texting; wants me to be his dirty girl amidst the sweat and dirt and raw fucking inside the OCD haven that is his home.

Today, I had my boobs measured..the young assistant attempted composure as I just took my top off, without being asked.

Today, I bought a book to show my daughter how babies are made...so we can talk and discuss together! She is young, yet perceptive and I want her to know about things from me...not the playground.

Today, I tutored a student...(professionally, literature...so don't get the wrong idea.)

Today, I gently fitted myself into the sharp edges of my marriage...and numbed the pain as I tried to tolerate.

I am mid way through a Mars Easter Egg!
Had to give up.

I got measured today...La Senza did the honours...and it's a confirmation..of what I knew.
40d or dd depending on 'the style.'

Well one needs to be alone whilst sampling 'the style' so next week will have to do...
Speaking of next week...at last Bespoke was in touch and it's a date. Tuesday.

Not much else to say really

Except I am bloody determined to make Paris! In 7 or so weeks. Jones reckons I won't make it!

Bought fab shoes today...gorgeous..bedroom shoes and will wear them Tues along with the sexy decadent stockings.

Watching 'The Specials' on Jools...crikey am I old...they are cool.

Now Franz Ferdinand...makes me feel well cool!

I needed a purge...
so I deleted about 30 of you 'friends.' I was inspired be sexymf and Sienna...and Kev!

You guys I deleted...never wrote..or never read me....not bothered about having to comment all the time....yet clearly...being off line for 4 months or more AND not writing or commenting...well...what's the point.
Some of you clearly using me to try and expand the cause...the political cause...and I'm not the mouthpiece.

So, I am absolutely not interested in how many friends one has....afterall it's the quality and not the quantity.

The man I felt I had succeeded in finding some happiness with...is still in some difficulty... and it's genuine and frustrating, yet something tells me it's all going to work out.

Jones is quiet and elusive and that is fine. That's him. He is someone I know I could talk to in a month and it will seem like we picked up from the day before. Relaxed. Natural.
He thinks I won't make Paris. I can tell.

Blue. Attentive at last. He is negogiating an extra day's holiday next week, so he can take me to his bed. Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
I know. I said it was over and in my head it is...

I make limited effort with him...and he has fluttered into my web.

However,if it is him and him alone who can fill me and make me moan whilst spanking my smooth bottom...just for the time being...then so be it.

Oh Mansion Man..remember him...again? He can buy anyone; anything. I am not exaggerating or making this up...he is worth millions and can have anyone he chooses...yet...he keeps sending me seedy texts and seedy desires. Again, tonight...

I was honest with him.

I asked, 'Why me...?'...again.

Replying quickly...'I adore your mentality.'

Now is that something good...or not....?

Deliverance is on.

Fuck.

Even pissed up..she sings awesomely!

Awesome.
Beautiful.
Deep
Melancholic.

Yep she'll die young, most probably...
She does not need to talk in between...just sing..

However such a passionate voice.

Soul
Blue.

And so so bad.....
Love it...

I am beautifully hetro...
yet the beautiful form of the female entices me.
Always has.
Always will.

It's been a while...19 years actually since I shared a bed with a woman..or two..

It's something I ponder over.
It's the mind of an equal and an accomplice that is so enticing!
So naughty.

She will fuck me and not my head..and that...oh...that reassures...so much.
Yet...no date as yet and certainly no peeping Toms..

This will be an intimate,
private
caring
moment.

mmmMM
Restless..and horny and selfish and vanishing in self -thought...

Bespoke is grateful that I wait.

Blue is being rather close and tactile...

I wish I was not with my husband...just for a short time.
I need space.
I need to breathe.

I need to walk and breathe and love and hold and kiss...

I need some deep physical touch and intimate clasping...

In an academic year of course.
We were back in bed.
After the candlelit dinner.
After the coffee.
After the train journey.
After the steep saunter on the cobbles before the meandering next to the river.
After the smiles, the giggles the intelligent coversation.
After the initial touching.
After the lighting the fire that lit the match that burnt the house down...I think he said.
After our needy sex and lovemaking.

And I have never regretted it.
It was lovely and fitted the moment perfectly.

' What were you watching last night?' Bespoke asked.
'I blush to tell you,' lonely brunette replied.

And , I do.

I do...
Late...very late last night...she shuddered alone.
Yet she sprawled across the carpet in the front room, curtains open, lights off.
On her tummy.
It took less than a minute...perhaps less than half a minute for her to moan into a hard orgasm and to seep her warmth and sexy wetness into the cushion...

Wobbling slightly....she climbed the stairs, stripped off and slipped into bed next to her snoring husband.

Naked, she felt the warmth from her play gently drop into her thighs...the smooth skin of her thighs that she yearns to have touched, and kissed, and licked...and...

Mmmm I want it.
An intelligent girl.
A sensible girl.
A bloody sexy girl.

Ms Sleek is the one.
Our paths divert right now...
She is so super fit actually compared to me- I worry.

My curves are soft and smooth...
not an exercise dvd in sight..

He still wants me.
Trouble on the home front will delay our first encounter.

I bought new stockings today.
Not Jasper Conran.
Not £8.50

But a stall in the local market...filled with saucy variety.
£2.99.

Deep black.
Red bow on the thigh.
Naughty.
Dirty.
Sexy.

I will admire them when I am wrapped around his head.

Dear Sir,
please can you tell me why the vast majority of your fabulous lingerie range only goes up to a 38DD? (I have only found 2, yes 2 bras in my size at your mega-huge superstore...ever)

You have no idea how frustrating it is to feel in heaven, surrounded with beautiful colours, textures and styles and then to realise, not a single 40DD anywhere.

Frustratingly yours,
Pip

A large crusty 'weekend loaf.'

Two bottles of red.

Two packets of wild bird food.

One pair of glossy lace-top hold-ups.

One paperback: 'Confessions of A Working Girl' by Miss S. (Which slid out from underneath the stockings as I tried to navigate my way to checkout 16...)

Smiling sweetly at the elderly gentleman who almost fell into my trolley, I lost all desire to return to the lingerie section to have yet another thorough rummage for pretty bras in my size! (In fact any bra!)

I feel another post coming on...

I heard a rumour...
The Tudors...series 3 returns....

But is it just a Sky thing...do tell...

I can't wait...

My daughter's fear brought this back.

It is sunny.
I am in a lane, a country lane.
Inside a car.
With my sister.
I am about 8 or 9.
My father parks the car and leaves us amidst the dangling bramble fronds..an afternoon.

Nothing passes.
No car.
No tractor.
No person.
Just an empty lane.

I remember a fear consuming me. A fear of being alone.
I pressed the horn. Over and over.
I cried.
I was scared.

He returned.
I was scolded.
I was hit.

He wanted a full container of brambles and I had stopped him...

I was sent to bed with no tea
My fear consumed me.

Never will I make my lovely girl feel that way.

Never.

She wept, and cried,
Alone in the car as I popped into Tesco...she became afraid.
She asked to stay...don't get me wrong...her and her little brother were at breaking point! The deal...I take him into Tesco...she stays in the car with her DS!Then a Drive-Thru Mac D on the way home.

Returning to the car...she was there in the back seat....crying...

'I'll do anything'
'I'll go to bed when we get home without any tea...'
' I'll give up my pocket money..'
'I'll do anything you want mummy.'

She had asked a trolley man to look for me as she thought we were not coming back....
My heart broke.
Am I really such a formidable mother?

I hugged her, kissed her, held her.
My beautiful girl.

She was so scared she was a disappointment.

We talked...Later, at home she sat on my knee and we hugged and listened and talked.

I must tell her more how much I love her...she swims within hidden angst inside her head. Things trouble her at such a young age.
She is indeed my girl,
my beautiful girl.

She lined up the seams.
She put her shoes back on.
She opened the door.
She walked towards him.
She wanted what he could give her, just for that hour or so.

He felt the curve of her behind as she walked up the stairs.
He closed the door quietly behind them both.
He wrapped his arms around her waist.
He kissed her slowly than hard.
He pulled back her hair.

She undressed him.
She kissed his body until she knelt before him.
She pleasured him slowly, deliberately, stubbornly.
She raised her arms as the dress was pulled off, the bra straps lowered.
She felt her hands being held as she rose and was taken to his bed.

He dropped dirty words into her ears.
He pushed aside her black knickers and he used his mouth and tongue well.
He remained and remained and remained until she screamed at him to stop.
He teased her and kissed her some more.
He knew she wanted to taste.

She knew she wanted to fuck.
She knew he would, in his own time, but she wanted it now.
She demanded, he conceded.
She knew, amidst the sweat and noise and pleasurable twistings,
She would be here for the last time.

She needs to feel.
Something.
Anything.
Oppressive air and poisonous fumes from Bitch make her sink; low and deeply. Indifference from her husband makes her want to feel more.

Blue: '7.30 then?'
Lonely brunette: 'Yes.'

Showering and shaving herself smooth...she wiggles into the dress, totters on the heels and smooths her black lingerie, stashing the seamed Jasp Con stockings into her small black bag.

'You going to the cinema or the pub?' her husband asks.

Ten minutes later...her mind filled with Papal Audiences and Saving The World At 8...she is in his house; he has left the door open and she sees his excitement immediately...

Lonely Brunette: 'Let me just get these stockings on...'

Disappears to the bathroom.

'Surprise' they yelled..as I walked into her room...knowing why I was here and what they had planned...
She had put on a 'buffet.'
Deputy Chief was there...really good of her as she should have been in a meeting.

And I received a designer handbag.and a 'Thank You' card...

I'm not leaving; I'm just relinquishing. Yet she, Bitch, celebrated that tonight.
I don't know how to feel.
I know it will be hard.
I felt flat, deflated afterwards. I was expected to make some kind of speech and I could not say what I needed to say...I remained the professional.
Later, she bombarded me with emails (work- related) whilst sitting in the room next to me.

(Lonely and solemn brunette texts: 'Have you some time tonight?' He answers: 'yes.')

She has the panic effect..
Rippling her angst all the way down to the bottom of the pool; the ripple effect.
Collecting my beautiful, fractious children, I felt darker and gloomier. I felt still and flat...
Hitting rock bottom as I arrived home, the sunlight failed to warm me as I sauntered in the garden, tipping slightly in my heels, stomach sick from Buffet a la Bitch...
Husband home and I ask him if he minds I go to the cinema tonight...he is unusually suspicious. I ignore it.
Children fed and bathed and put to bed....
I stash My New Handbag into my wardrobe; it's still enveloped in a carrier bag.

Refreshingly unconventional.

I don't need to keep up.

Fully clothed will do.
A lover or two is fine...

I cannot and will not be reigned in...

It is that; the purity of that...which draws him closer.

I have not met him, yet my body needs to be sated by him.
It's been a while.

Talking under the duvet...

Alone and warm and naked.

Texts on the way to work.

Texts as I drop the children off.

Then he works...business, money...business more money. Motorways and coffee.

I call after my work...as he drives home from his.

I have yet to see him.

No picture, nothing.

Yet, he has me.

Next Wednesday we meet for a short time...just for coffee and wine. I am screaming out for bed and orgasms yet I may be unheard.

....