Warning:  Explicit Sexual Content.  If you are under the age of 21, then this is not the place for you.

“You know what I think?” your voice low as you lean toward me, the scent of you rushing through my bloodstream like the sangria swirling around in my glass.

“When I want to know what you think of me,” I lean closer to enhance the exposure of my breasts as the front of my shirt dips dangerously low, “I will unzip your pants…stick your hard cock into my mouth…and suck you dry.”

“I think…I think,” you stutter as the visual slashes through you mind, your eyes on mine…the humor melting quickly into desire…I watch with amusement as you struggle for control. 

“Stutter for me baby, it makes me feel powerful,” I purr softly, electricity crackling from every slow stroke of my tongue over my bottom lip throbbing to wrap around your masculinity.

“I think that you are fighting temptation,” you manage finally with a whisper of thrill as my words hit home again.

“Perhaps I am just looking for the right temptation,” barely able to breathe from your eyes penetrating me with images of us wrapped naked in sweaty, cum soaked sheets.

“You have found him,” you flip your room card on the bar in front of me with a smug smile inviting me to taste your mouth, “I will be back in an hour.  Be there.”

“I believe you are right,” I whisper to myself watching your confident stride toward the elevator as I pick the keycard up and tuck it into my cleavage for safekeeping.

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Sliding the keycard into the door, the silence of the corridor echoes the anticipating in my breathing as the light on the handle flickers from red to green.  Stepping in, the steam from the shower circulating the scent of your clean body mixed with your aftershave slides through my senses inviting me into your room.

Closing the door behind me, not in the mood for games anymore… flashes of desire pulse like an electrical storm through my body watching the hot water roll over your shoulders and down your chest…my mouth aches to follow the slippery path down your stomach to the catch the drops from your dick on my tongue.

Stepping into the bathroom, your eyes find me immediately through the clouds of hot mist coating my skin matching the creamy wetness pooling between my thighs.  Moving toward the shower, I slowly peel off my clothes to drop them in a trail ending at your feet…reveling in the excitement of your eyes flowing down my neck to rest on my bare breasts pushing against glass making circles with mounds of flesh as I lean forward to place a light kiss on the glass.

Sliding into the shower with you, a slight smile playing around my lips burning to touch your skin, “suck or fuck,” I whisper into the air between us.

“Yes,” your hands reach out to with force to pull me to you…the water pouring over my back and shoulders slightly colder than the sizzle of your body finally meeting mine…my nipples throbbing against your chest bringing tears of need flooding my eyes…as my nails sink deeply into your strong arms for support…my breathing stutters my willing surrender to your control.

Your hands search my body…every curve of soft skin giving to your exploration…your strong hands covered in thick sticky cum with every stoke of your thumb deep between my thighs.  Your eyes taking in every minute as my body shamelessly responds like strikes of lightning to the slightest move of your hand…I cling to you wantonly as your name escapes on a low moan that shakes my body as your sexy voice reaches inside of my bliss with the power that pushes me over the edge…“come for me baby.”

My head against your shoulder…my body still shaking…my hands start to wander over your arms wanting to touch and taste every inch of you all at once as another need bubbles quickly to the surface.  Wrapping my hand around the impressive weight of your manhood, I sink to my knees in front of you seeking the relief of a slow suck, like a swimmer seeking the relief of air after being under water too long. 

The relief comes, slowly at first, as a deep sigh stuttering through my breathing as I rub your hard cock against my face…over my eyes…and down my throat to nestle tight between my tits…my nipples hard in your fingers.  Flicking the tip of my tongue over the head of your dick with a teasing suck, your fingers tighten in my hair as your hips rock toward my mouth.

“Not yet,” I smile up at you, your eyes begging for release…my mouth wanders slowly down in a path of soft kisses against the inside your thigh to your balls tight from my attention…my tongue stroking your balls with small circles of pleasure to disrupt your breathing.  Sucking one…then the other, your breathing skips once…twice… again…as I pump your masculinity to painful hardness with my hand stopping just short of your orgasm and my own as the wave of sensation starts to pound deep in my thighs. 

“Look at me,” my voice and eyes command you to watch me indulge in your body as I suck you all the way into my mouth with an intense purr of fulfillment…want taking over with every stroke of your dick in my mouth…deeper and deeper until your body starts to shake with the effort to hold back…until I let your juices splatter all over my tits…until you are no longer fighting temptation…

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Listening to your contented breathing, slow and satisfied in time with the vibration in the air, I fight the temptation to crawl back into bed with you to wrap my naked body in your pleasures.

“Happy Birthday lover…see you at home!,” I sign the note with a kiss to the top corner before leaving it snuggled next to you in the bed still damp with our passion.

Over the past few months, I have struck stupid by the amount of misplaced items there are in the world.  I mean, there seems to be an overflow of things lately that do not fit into any given category for handling the situation.  This seems especially true of sex and sex toys.  If you live in a world where sexuality and sex toys are easily accepted as an understood portion of life, then when something comes up that does not melt into the reality of the world it seems disarming.

For example, during a recent trip to Dallas, I was caught in the midst of wonder that, in a state where you can easily purchase an AK-47 with several clips of live ammunition for “self protection,” it is still illegal to by a vibrator.  So, pain and death are legally acceptable consequences, but an orgasm is not.  I have never heard of anyone robbing a store with a vibrator!

Or, in a recent court case in the newspaper, when I found out that you can be arrested for public nudity in your own home if, even without any sexual connotation at all, you are viewable by people passing by.  So, if you have ever streaked in front of an open window to the clothes dryer for a clean pair of jeans, watch out for your neighbors because they CAN call the police.

More to the point, the moral implications of a court case of involving several 17 year old girls putting suggestive photos of themselves on their MySpace who have been suspended from school as punishment.  I mean, surely an unwise decision on the part of the girls and perhaps a matter for their parents (even though the law sees 17 years old as the age of consent for girls as they deemed adults), but why should their high school become involved in the issue? 

As I sat the other night staring at a vibrator that I don’t use anymore, I wondered at the best way to dispose of an old friend.  I mean, this is another instance in which society does not prepare for the result in a sexual situation…only punishes the action.  There are hundreds (if not millions) of vibrators sold every year.  What happens to them?

• Are vibrators recyclable like my plastic bags?
• Is there a trade up program or a new in two contract like with my cell phone?
• Is there a special place at the dump full of vibrating sex toys that need to be disposed of in a special way like cardboard?
• Is there a charity that takes them and refurbishes them for less fortunate women or school programs?

I know…I am being a smart ass, but really…what is a girl to do?  There is tons of technology, progress, and pleasure that go into this one little instrument.  Every little buzz of pleasure represents years of women struggling to feel and accept their own sexuality.   I would not throw out an old blender…so what to do?   ~~Dee

“You know what your strength is in our group?” a close friend asked me with good intentions in her heart.  You could see how much the compliment meant to her.

“What’s that?” I was a little amused by the topic.  Ah yes…the evaluation of me.  I have noticed a trend of everyone feeling like they have to assemble me to make me whole.

“Well…I have come to realize that you are here to make the new people feel welcome and kick them out of the nest at the right time.  You accept people and get rid of them with equal ease.”

At this statement, I was numb.  It was a big WTF moment in my life.  As I shuffled back through my recent relationships, I willingly reviewed the function of maintaining my circle of friends.

 I realized that my willingness to hold or release a relationship is not about me.  The female “friends” in my life are not there to be long term relationships because my approach to life is not based the sticky-icky feelings that most women engage. 

For example, in a recent seminar, part of the leave taking was to get in a circle of 15 women, hold hands, and close the energy.  I am all good with that because I honestly feel that energy in groups can reinforce many parts of your life.  Now, as one women suggested that everyone turn to the person next to them and give them a kiss on the cheek until it went all the way around the circle (which was reversed to go back around the circle when the kiss wave, if you will, reached the place of origin), I backed out of the circle.

I thought…wait a second, you want me to accept a kiss that has been passed around a circle.  Nope…nada…not happening in my lifetime.

In reality, I have a strong aversion to fake affections.  Just for everyone’s record keeping, these are the things that qualify for me as fake affection that women seem to be touting:

• Hugging at every standing still, breathing moment
• Kissing for every reason
• Touching my hand, middle of my back, or shoulders  in a rubbing motion
• Saying “I love you” to every other woman that passes

These are fake for me because, in my structure of life, these things are reserved for the people in my life circle.  When people receive these actions from me, they KNOW that I care for them and love them.  I started to wonder if women, in compensating for the lack of real emotional connection, were compensating with other women.

But, in truth, if all someone could offer me was fake emotions that seemed to lie with beg you to return the fakery, then please skip it.   Here’s an idea…lets build REAL relationships with honest emotions and strong communications that meet our needs where no one has to fake connection!  ~~Dee

I have missed the caress of your breath in my ear…whispering sexy words of pleasure into my soul… calling me home to my passion.

“Where are you?” you have whispered to me late in the night.

“Busy.  Working.  Living,” I whispered back into the darkness knowing it was a lie. 

I never escaped your hold on me. 

I missed your moments of instant satisfaction.

I knew you were waiting for me…for the moment when I would again possess you.

Even realizing, as you masturbated my mind with your welcoming smile and promises of gratification, that it is you who owns me…

I have walked back toward you every since.  ~~Dee

All of my life, I have seen couples spend time apart with the understanding that “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”  From separate vacations to nights out with friends, it seems that time apart makes the time some couples spend more precious.  In reality, I don’t buy it.  While it does give you a multi-faceted view of the complexities of a relationship that include both the pain of loneness and the pleasure of time to yourself (with others), either way, in my mind, finding out that you are better alone or with someone else is always on the horizon.

As The Marine and I spend many waking hours together talking, going to “things” together, doing “things” together…well, we practically do everything together.  When we are apart, we have trouble sleeping and wander around the house lost in our own space.  Does it sound painful?  It is…I miss him in the depths of my soul whenever he is not close.  Like missing a part of my being…as clearly if someone had removed a part of my brain, my heart, my body.

HOWEVER…

I recently found one place that separation has made us stronger as a couple.

THE BATHROOM!

For over 20 years, we have shared one bathroom much to my dismay.  This normally easy going guy becomes Hitler in the bathroom.  The bathroom has to be organized and stocked a certain way.  Nothing on the counter…everything in a drawer or closet with towels properly placed and wash cloths in convenient places.  Shampoo, shaving crème, soap, and mirrors must be…well, it is very regimented. 

Now, in his defense, I am not SO organized in the bathroom.  Curling iron, hair dryer, cosmetics, and crèmes scattered where ever they land.  Various female aids and clothes on the floor mixed with towels (OMG…whites and darks mixed together—the world as we know it is coming to an end!).  And, yes, I am constantly late…did I mention that?  I have the ability to make a sane person crazy with that habit!  I don’t mean to be late.  My Gemini-ness gets distracted and I am in another world.

But….in our new house, the master bathroom backs up to a guest bathroom.  Heaven was delivered into our marriage.  We can easily shower together and he trots off to do his male magic in the adjoining bathroom!  Oddly, I am not late as often as I usually am because I don’t have to wait on him to shave or do other male things.

I do miss watching him do the things that make him naked and male in the same room with me!  But, we are both happier having our own primping space and much more impressed with the magic when we next see each other!  ~~Dee

There is a new study about women and how they feel about their asses.  

The results were pretty interesting:

• 30% of women think their ass is too fat…
• 10% of women think their ass is too skinny……
   
• The remaining 60% say they don’t care, they love him, he’s a good man, and they wouldn’t trade him for the world!

Live, Love, Laugh…and share it with someone else!  ~~Dee

“That’s us in 20 years,” he says as he squeezes my hand with a quick glance across the parking lot.

I smile at the elderly couple walking toward us.  Her leaning heavily on his arm.  Him supporting her every step with the comfort of having her there.  It is sweet and warm. 

More than, as I look back to The Marine, I realize a deep comfort and security in knowing that he sees us that far down the road.  Hand and hand.  Arm in arm together. 

I mean, these days, people say forever.  They promise until “death do us part,” but I wonder if there is such a thing.

I recently commented via Facebook to the daughter of the preacher who married The Marine and I, “tell your father we prayed for him this week as we celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary.  He said he tied good knots.  I guess he was right!”

“I dont think so,” she replied.  “My brothers and I have all been divorced.” 

Never liked her much.  She was the average preachers kid (you know what that means!), but I was saddened to hear that three more marriages had been left to the death toll.

But, then…I received this picture in my email from a friend with a simple message that stated:  The Marine and You in a few years! 

I smiled.  I giggled.  I hoped.

For The Marine…”look baby, there we are in a few years!”  ~~Dee

Someone near and dear sent this to me…if only it worked like this!  Heres to all the well-rounded women in the world!

Freedom means many things to many people.  But, it always means the ability to go where your heart guides you.  I find it facinating that in America, where we guard your right to freedom so strongly, we fight against those who simplyly want the same freedoms. 

The right to follow your sexual identity is not a freedom given by man; therefore, it can not be revolked or legislated by man.  Sexuality is a God-given right of every living being.  It is perhaps the MOST intuitive and internal right we are born with and live with all of our lives.

It surpasses our eye color, our name, our profession, and our finanical status.  It is something we carry around with us everyday just as we do the right to breathe…yet we would deny that right to others. 

Here, in America, this country that I love with all my heart and have given years of service, it pains me to see people so moralistically judgmental about sexuality that they damn those who sexually have a different eye color than they do.  We can do better than that!

Home of the Free, Land of the Brave…Happy Independance Day America.  Let us remember that freedom applies to every person on the planet.

Mike was going to be married to Karen so his Father sat him down for a little chat.

He said, “Mike, let me tell you something. On my wedding night in our honeymoon suite. I took off my pants, handed them to your Mother, and said, “Here, try these on.”

She did and said, “These are too big. I can’t wear  them.”

I replied, “Exactly.. I wear the pants in this family and I always will.”  “Ever since that night, we have never had any  problems.”

“Hmmm,” said Mike.

He thought that might be a good thing to try.

On his honeymoon, Mike took off his pants and said to Karen, “Here, try these on…”

She tried them on and said, “These are too large.  They don’t fit me.” 

Mike said, “Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I always will. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

Then Karen took off her panties and handed them to  Mike.

She said, “Here, you try on mine.”

Mike did and said, “I can’t get into your panties.”

Karen said, “Exactly. And if you don’t change your smart-ass attitude, you never will.”