i like thinking about the sensation of your fingers on my skin. at times it seems that i can feel every curve and swirl in the pads of your fingertips as they brush across my breasts and slide down my spine.

other times your hands are smooth and strong - like a well-crafted paddle - and i long for you to punish me. it's then i ache for you to leave my ass stinging and flushed, a delicious reminder of you.

love bites...

give 'em the boot-leg...

"hang to dry" has a whole new meaning.

last night i had a sexy dream about will ferrell. i don't know what else to say about that.

i don't consider myself a troublemaker, in most cases, but i don't go out of my way to avoid trouble either. and when trouble is right in front of you begging to not be avoided it's that much harder. damn near impossible really.

and since she is not my girlfriend, and i have a responsibility to no one but myself, i highly suggest that you watch where you leave those lips.

my brain knows better, but my other parts? that's an entirely different story.

thursday, may 25, 2006
gus' pub
tomcat combat
sharp like knives
dd/mm/yyyy

i missed tomcat combat which was a bummer because they rock but caught sharp like knives for the first time and they were more than alright. even so, i left before the headliners took the stage. nothing against them or anything but i just wasn't feeling it. something to do with exhaustion.

what did catch my attention before departing was the look that one sassy young lass shot my way as she moved past me toward the bar. Sticky and so very sweet, just like honey.

it's been a while since i received such a matter-of-fact invitation from such a lovely thing, and i was taken aback. usually i can sniff out these opportunities - see them coming, but miss sass caught me off guard.

i think i had forgotten how much i enjoy the attention of a pretty girl. then again, maybe i just needed to be caught off guard, surprised. in my experience, expectation can ruin a moment before it even begins. but when something comes from left-field the sloppiest kiss can ignite a fire.

and right right now i'd be happy to be taken. here, there, and over there, too.

in fact, if you're up to it you can find me, 'alone and unsuspecting', in the bathroom. i'll be in the furthest stall from the door.

it really is amazing the trouble my mouth gets me into.

i'm no pamela des barres, but i like boys in bands. 

a lot. 

I don't only like boys in bands though, i'm a little more equal opportunity. 

i guess i like people with passion, and it doesn't matter so much the direction that passion flows; maybe it's a love of gadgets, language, guitars, the stars, their cars, or their cats. 

i think the attraction for me is the energy and drive they approach their loves, their lives, and of course, me. 

artists of any stripe have a special classification though. 

if you can create something new and beautiful where nothing existed before give yourself 1000 bonus points. i know I certainly will. 

british scientists recently discovered that (surprise!) artists enjoy better sex lives than non-creative types, something they've deemed the syd barret effect. 

now it doesn't say in their findings that the sex is any better necessarily, just that the artist has more partners over their lifetime. something i guess that by default may make for a hotter time in the hay. 

practice can make perfect, after all. 

now i'm not quite sure why this warranted a study. i figured pretty much everyone knew that creative types got more ass* than their buttoned-down friends. 

what did surprise me, however, were the numbers involved... 4 to 10 partners for artists 3 for "non-creative types" (ie. upper management) this wouldn't seem wrong to me if they were talking about a week, or a month or even a year, but this is a lifetime total. 

i'm pretty sure that ministers have more lifetime partners. 

so, are you an artist or an executive? or is this study full of shit?

*in general, people. i know there is an exception to every rule. it has not escaped my attention that there are plenty of boring people out there who fuck different people all the time. some of them might even be half good at it.

yes it's true, naughty girls need love too.

i like things that suggest of sex, like the flash of a lacy bra under a plain top, a shared glance, or a sensual movement - the way she runs her hand down over her hip with quiet intention or casually traces the lines of her neck.

in today's oversexed, undersexy world the demure is highly underrated...

...this is my newest favourite suggestive lyric. it's harmer's sweetly innocent delivery that sets my spine a tingling.

"some might say i'm thinking in sin...so i'll just sit back and take you in. you're a map of a place maybe one day i'll go, with thoughts of you i am aglow".

- "i am aglow" from i am a mountain by sarah harmer

they say that real-life sex isn't like the sex you see it in the movies, so urgent and expertly choreographed., and in many cases, they may be right. 

but there are times when i like it like that, minus of course the hot lights beating down on my exposed flesh and the sleazy grips leering at me through the darkness as i'm slammed repeatedly into the wall.

i like it when you pull my hair and take control - when i've been pinned down, 'just so'... 

it makes me shake with anticipation, and forces sounds across my lips that had been long buried.

what turns you on?

actually, it's not just the library, apparently now i'm 'randy' all the time.

i don't know what it is about being in the library that makes me so horny. 

maybe it's the scent the books give off, or the feel of their covers in my hands. either way, once again here I am. 

a quick trip to a bathroom stall might be in order, but i would prefer to meet you in the stacks. it will be a meeting of the minds. 

maybe you'll find me by chance, or maybe i'll leave a trail only you can follow. 

you are a great explorer, uncovering treasures that have been hidden for centuries and i am your next great discovery. not lost for as long but just as precious. 

the road may be long and the hazards many but when you find me i'll be ready. 

i'm waiting. 

come up behind me. don't turn me around, I don't want to see your face, I only want to feel you as you press yourself into my back and slick wetness gathers between my thighs. 

tension rises as you make me wait, lightly running your hands over my ass and leaving your warm breath on the back of my neck. 

my back arches. every nerve in my body pulses as you push me onto a table and order me still. 

I will try to obey but my body has another master, and this one cracks a whip. 

i start to grind, pressing myself into the table while my ass searches for you, each rotation more urgent than the last. you leave me like that for what seems like an eternity, but just as i start to whimper you grab my hair and force my head back, yank up my skirt, and muffle the animal sounds escaping from my throat. 

entry is swift and my wetness welcomes all of you. we move together easily, each thrust deeper, each one more intense. then when the fever breaks, you collapse on top of me as my thighs shake with aftershocks. 

now we are on the floor, lying amongst scattered books. with you still inside i turn my head and breathe deeply. the smell of our sex is mixed with the mustiness of the books. I inhale again and smile. 

I'm ready to be rediscovered.

spring has sprung. the evidence can be seen outside but the biggest changes are occurring inside me. 

my body hums with anticipation of the sunshine and the force of your hands on my wrists as you pin me to the wall. 

i want you to tease me, and taunt me, as my breath comes in tortured gasps. when I can take it no more I want you to enter me - slowly first - then faster, harder, deeper. over and over, again and again. 

Just thinking about it leaves a puddle in my pants. imagine the possibilities.