HNT 21 ~ The Shower #2

... but my showers are no longer mine. They have become his.

He has moved in and taken over.

His hands playing across my skin along with the cool water.

Replacing my 'quiet time' with pleasure.

...this is a continuation of last week's HNT which can be seen here...

HNT 20 ~ The Shower #1

My showers used to be my time to myself, away from the kids, at the end of a stressful day. Letting the hot water play across skin, beat against aching neck muscles and back, I would just stand there and close my eyes, feeling the day rinse away...

voracious appetite

When did I become a nymphomaniac??
I am still trying to finger figure this out myself!

I want it everyday. I want it again right after I've had it. I cum over and over and still want more... still want those sensations, still want that fullness, those core-rocking shudders. My body is giving out long before my sex drive does.

(Of course, I am sure that the fact that in the previous 4 years the numbers of times I bumped uglies could be counted on only 2 hands factors into it somewhere!)

So, maybe it is because, that now I am old out of my 20's, I am on that upward climb to my sexual peak? ? ?

If that's the case, Lord help anyone with a penis and a pulse by the time I reach the top!!

HNT 14 ~ Sex Appeal

Most days there is no reason to dress up,
to feel pretty.
When the dishes get to be too much,
the laundry is piling up,
screaming kids and studying to be done.
There are days that the most attention I pay to myself is
just putting my hair in a pony tail...

But sometimes...

sometimes,

I need to know I 'still got it.'

A little skirt,

a hot pair of shoes,

pulled from the back of the closet.

Five minutes to myself,

to twist and turn in front of the mirror,

Before the next load of laundry needs to be put in.

HNT 13 ~ The straw that broke...

Somedays...

you feel the weight of the world

on your shoulders.

Somedays...

you just want to hide in the corner,

or bang your head against the wall.

Somedays...

you just need to stop,

and Breathe.

Friday the 13th

Should I find the correlation between the fact that I was born on a Friday the 13th and my seemingly unending amount of bad luck amusing? Or is my subconscious just playing roulette with my life? When bad things happen I have always said, "Well, I was born on Friday the 13th!" Yet, I still count the calender, getting amost giddy when my birthday once again falls on that special day.
So, no paraskavedekatriaphobia here! I have an affinity for black cats, broken more than my share of mirrors in my time... and I am sure there is a ladder in there somewhere too! I have always felt a bit special being the 'unlucky one', but wish luck would once turn my way, smile, and grace me with her touch.

that time of year

...where we attempt to turn our back on the past and stare down the future by making promises we will never keep...

Yes, its resolution time!

I have a few. The obligatory blog blog blog, lose weight, stop smoking, workout more...

But I have others as well. I have vowed mental self-improvement. I have to undo some of the damage caused by my ex. It has been a rough few years. So, this year has to get better or I will... I will... well, I will just whine about it on here! ;)

talking to myself

I write my best stuff in my head..lying in bed, far away from pen and paper. The words pour forth like a river... beautiful, thoughtful, ...inspired. Problem is as I sit here to commit my prose to print, these words no longer exist. My brain becomes that tone you hear when you've left the phone off the hook............

~please hold and an operator will assist you momentarily~

under the rug

my insecurities get the best of me at times. i try to hide them away, to sweep them under a rug for no one to see. The problem is they fester. The stench of their rotting eminates through my existance, wrinkling my nose and contaminating the air still.
Because of the smell, the curiousity to lift the corner of the rug and poke and them a bit, re-examine and therefore relive them becomes almost an obsession.
They taint the air, taint my actions, often times bringing to fruition the once unfounded fears.
A sort of self-sabotage.

puppet

sometimes you can't outrun your past. no matter how hard you try or how many miles you put between you. thank you, internet :(
i thought i had cut my puppet strings and become a real girl, but no..
this someone (well, several someones -cause hyenas always travel in packs) sneaks up on the unsuspecting callie and manages to throw her life into turmoil. she sits and regroups while he/they run cackling off back to their own miserable existence to lay low and plan her next demise.
life slowly returns, emotions are packed safely away after damage assessment... time passes..

but she knows they will be back.
some out of spite and evil, some seeking parts she cannot give. all pulling at the flesh of her soul.

yes, Pinocchio, you are still just a puppet.