Summer daydreams

It’s summer, and I’ve been lying in bed masturbating. The window is open and the morning sun and warm air feel delicious on my fair skin. I notice that the ropes are moving on the window washers rig. I grab the silk, fringed shawl that’s hanging on a chair and go to lean out the window.

He is there. Sandy haired, strong and lithe, sitting enjoying the sun. I notice his jeans are open and his cock is hard in the sunlight. I lean out the window, smiling, the shawl barely around my shoulders, not really covering my breasts as they sway against the buildings brick facade. He turns to look at me and I smile. He is not ashamed, makes no move to cover himself. Instead, he gently comes over to me, stands in front of me so that I am now eye level with his cock. It is hard and is reaching towards me. I, in turn, reach out and touch it. When I do, he puts his hands on my hair, touches the long, blond strands as though they were silk. His hand traces slowly down the sides of my head as I cradle his balls in my hand, and slowly stroke his shaft from base to tip. I put my hand around it, give a little tug and he gets the idea. Continue reading Summer daydreams

Letting Go

What really gets me going when I have the sense that I’m allowed to enjoy being animalistic and that I’m allowed to relax without having to worry that my partner thinks I’m fat or too horny or unfeminine.  Essentially, when I feel permission to be as unabashed as possible is when I feel sexy.  Also, when I feel my partner is in touch with my body I am encouraged to be in touch as well. Continue reading Letting Go


It’s Halloween and I’m dressed up like my idol, Marlena Dietrich.  I’ve got the full Blue Angle trip: stockings, top-hat, and powder blue pumps.  As I’m pulling on my stockings, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and damn if I don’t like exactly like her.  It turns me on a bit, actually a lot.  My lips, which I’ve just shaved for the first time (so no stray hairs would creep out the sides of my blue satin merry-widow bottom,) start to get wet.

I slip my ring finger inside and start to stroke myself, imagining that I’m Marlene and she is here, kneeling between my thighs and gently licking and teasing me.  A gasp escapes my painted lips and I open myself up with two fingers, hot and wet with narcissistic desire.  I turn around and bend over, still watching myself in the mirror and spread myself open wider with one hand.  

I reach over into my underwear drawer and slide out my crystal dildo.  I ease it up inside my pink wet slit, imagining that it is attached to Marlene, who is dressed in drag, with a rakish pencil mustache and a turn-of-the century suit.  I buck my hips towards an orgasm that promises to be explosive, and finger my nub furiously as I fuck myself, just to be sure.   Continue reading Marlena