Winter is a great season. Don't get me wrong, my favourite is always Summer; shorts, tank tops, tummy in full view, short skirts, bathing suits. But winter is a wonderful season I love the warmth of soft wool sweaters, I love sitting at home under blankets on the couch, watching movies and drinking tea. I love warm socks. If I had a fireplace it would be even nicer.
Cuddling in front of a fire while it snows outside, christmas cookies and cinnamon tea to keep me warm.
One of my fondest memories of an ex-boyfriend was a snow-in. It was a normal winter day in west coast Canada, when out of the blue it started to snow and didn't stop. My bf was staying at my place, his was too far away. It snowed for two days straight until there was 5 feet of snow in front of the doors. The snow plows couldn't get through and the snow covered the cars on the street.
We stayed at home, in bed, making love, talking and getting up just to eat, for 4 days straight. It was magical. We took a walk to get bread, it was like the Klondike. Walking at the level of the hoods of the cars, making a new trail in the snow.
Isolation creates an amazing connection sometimes. If it doesn't draw you closer it can tear you apart.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
A face I've seen before
Since playing around on cam I've never come across anyone I know. But it has crossed my mind that I might someday.
One day something happened that I might say was a close call. I had been going on a website called Camfrog. It's a place full of people looking for free webcam nudity. Most people don't have cams, but a few do. Most of the viewers are men but the funny thing is for publicity reasons they often have pre-recorded videos of girls getting naked. I used to strip and watch the comments, it was fun, I liked to see what people thought. Some thought I was one of the pre-recorded vids, and I would laugh and answer on the main chat board that I was real.
One friday, my neighbor, who is a bit of a porn fiend and quite open with me, asked me what websites he could use to chat with girls. I refused to answer (pretending not to know), suggesting he open an msn account. I even looked up a few sites in front of him which were solely chat rooms (no cams). That saturday I was about to go on Camfrog but my computer crashed and kept crashing. I coulnd't log on.
The monday after I asked my neighbor if he had found any satisfying chat sites, and he said that he had. When I asked him what it was called, he said Camfrog and I nearly gagged. I had been lucky. If my computer hadn't broken down I would have gone on and he would have seen me.
I often wonder about old high school friends, or ex boyfriends brothers, or even ex boyfriends. The internet seems HUGE but I don't think it's as big as we think it is.
One day something happened that I might say was a close call. I had been going on a website called Camfrog. It's a place full of people looking for free webcam nudity. Most people don't have cams, but a few do. Most of the viewers are men but the funny thing is for publicity reasons they often have pre-recorded videos of girls getting naked. I used to strip and watch the comments, it was fun, I liked to see what people thought. Some thought I was one of the pre-recorded vids, and I would laugh and answer on the main chat board that I was real.
One friday, my neighbor, who is a bit of a porn fiend and quite open with me, asked me what websites he could use to chat with girls. I refused to answer (pretending not to know), suggesting he open an msn account. I even looked up a few sites in front of him which were solely chat rooms (no cams). That saturday I was about to go on Camfrog but my computer crashed and kept crashing. I coulnd't log on.
The monday after I asked my neighbor if he had found any satisfying chat sites, and he said that he had. When I asked him what it was called, he said Camfrog and I nearly gagged. I had been lucky. If my computer hadn't broken down I would have gone on and he would have seen me.
I often wonder about old high school friends, or ex boyfriends brothers, or even ex boyfriends. The internet seems HUGE but I don't think it's as big as we think it is.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Old Flames
Why are old flames called old flames? Because they can re-ignite really easily, and you can get burned.
I was on facebook the other evening and I commented on an old friend's post. It's a guy I had a huge crush on back at the end of highschool. He was the crazy painter/musician type. He was tall, lanky and in my opinion cute. He was sexy as hell when he played guitar and sang. He had this nonchalant way about him, especially when he played guitar. Moody, dressed in leather... long black hair....
I have a weak spot for artists.
The Facebook story goes that I ended up starting a chat with "Raoul" (that's what he used to call himself). I had already done so, but it was just a "hello, what have you been up to" chat. This time it was intense, it made me break a sweat, it made my heart beat just a little faster.
He said that he had been jealous of my boyfriend at the time. Which to me is crazy because I broke up with that guy and started falling in love with Raoul. And I ended up telling him that I wished he had made a move on me way back. He admitted to kicking himself for not making that move. He said things that made me think he regretted not following through.
Back in that happy past I wanted him pretty bad. I followed him to every concert I could get my fingers on. We hung out a lot. I remember him admitting, at the time, that he would have made a move, except he thought I was too young. I was probably 17 at the time, he was 20.
I even asked him to come to my graduation. He refused, and I asked someone else. Only that the week after that he went back on his decision and accepted. And I couldn't go back on my word with the other guy. Fuck, that stung.
It was summer, just out of school forever. I wasn't signed up at any universities, and I was about to go on a tour of Europe with a choir. This is when Raoul asked me if I wanted to go to Italy with him to study art in an art school there. I accepted. He was serious. But when I told him that it was a real possibility for me, and that I was seriously going to buy a ticket, he backed out.
This is partially why I'm here in the first place. He put that idea in my head, going to Italy and staying to go to art school. He doesn't know that. I managed to keep that detail to myself... for now.
Chatting to him put crazy ideas into my head, how I'd like to meet up with him, have him fuck my brains out softly, I really really desire him. He's still hot, I saw pictures. He does animation for a TV series that I don't remember the name of. He does art shows, and he has become the lead singer/songwriter and guitarist of a new band. He's going into the recording studio soon and he said he'd send me a cd when it's done (somehow I doubt that will happen). He is newly divorced, with a kid.
Oh how I want him....... I always have. When I think about it, I want it so bad it hurts.
I have to stop thinking about it...
Why can't I help dwelling on the past?
I was on facebook the other evening and I commented on an old friend's post. It's a guy I had a huge crush on back at the end of highschool. He was the crazy painter/musician type. He was tall, lanky and in my opinion cute. He was sexy as hell when he played guitar and sang. He had this nonchalant way about him, especially when he played guitar. Moody, dressed in leather... long black hair....
I have a weak spot for artists.
The Facebook story goes that I ended up starting a chat with "Raoul" (that's what he used to call himself). I had already done so, but it was just a "hello, what have you been up to" chat. This time it was intense, it made me break a sweat, it made my heart beat just a little faster.
He said that he had been jealous of my boyfriend at the time. Which to me is crazy because I broke up with that guy and started falling in love with Raoul. And I ended up telling him that I wished he had made a move on me way back. He admitted to kicking himself for not making that move. He said things that made me think he regretted not following through.
Back in that happy past I wanted him pretty bad. I followed him to every concert I could get my fingers on. We hung out a lot. I remember him admitting, at the time, that he would have made a move, except he thought I was too young. I was probably 17 at the time, he was 20.
I even asked him to come to my graduation. He refused, and I asked someone else. Only that the week after that he went back on his decision and accepted. And I couldn't go back on my word with the other guy. Fuck, that stung.
It was summer, just out of school forever. I wasn't signed up at any universities, and I was about to go on a tour of Europe with a choir. This is when Raoul asked me if I wanted to go to Italy with him to study art in an art school there. I accepted. He was serious. But when I told him that it was a real possibility for me, and that I was seriously going to buy a ticket, he backed out.
This is partially why I'm here in the first place. He put that idea in my head, going to Italy and staying to go to art school. He doesn't know that. I managed to keep that detail to myself... for now.
Chatting to him put crazy ideas into my head, how I'd like to meet up with him, have him fuck my brains out softly, I really really desire him. He's still hot, I saw pictures. He does animation for a TV series that I don't remember the name of. He does art shows, and he has become the lead singer/songwriter and guitarist of a new band. He's going into the recording studio soon and he said he'd send me a cd when it's done (somehow I doubt that will happen). He is newly divorced, with a kid.
Oh how I want him....... I always have. When I think about it, I want it so bad it hurts.
I have to stop thinking about it...
Why can't I help dwelling on the past?
Travels
Right. It's time I'm leaving at 5 am tomorrow morning. I probably won't be able to post while I'm away. I've scheduled two posts for next week and the week after. It was all I could manage... sorry!
I will have a full house to come back to when I return, so I'm not sure when I will actually be getting operative again. I'm very worried about the family situation here. I'm afraid that we will be forced to come back home, cutting our trip short. Just the thought of not seeing my father, after six years, makes me sad. However if bf's brother has really been diagnosed with bone marrow cancer, I don't know how things will proceed in two months. I guess we'll just see.
I've packed, I'm set. I'll try to get some pics up... but I can't promise anything.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!!!!!
xoxoxox
I will have a full house to come back to when I return, so I'm not sure when I will actually be getting operative again. I'm very worried about the family situation here. I'm afraid that we will be forced to come back home, cutting our trip short. Just the thought of not seeing my father, after six years, makes me sad. However if bf's brother has really been diagnosed with bone marrow cancer, I don't know how things will proceed in two months. I guess we'll just see.
I've packed, I'm set. I'll try to get some pics up... but I can't promise anything.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!!!!!
xoxoxox
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Chocolate
Tie me up to enhance my curves, bind me and block me so I can't move.
A cream of chocolate, spread knowingly over my body. The perfume penetrating my nose and boring a hole in my brain. Making our mouths water.
Chocolate mousse soft and light dolloped artfully on each nipple.
Whipped cream, the kind in a can, sprayed in patterns over my tight belly leading down between my legs.
Two lines of chocolate syrup, squeezed directly from the bottle on either thigh, letting it drip and trickle, tickling my thighs, making me squirm, making me want to scratch the itch, making me moan for you to lick and bite it.
Raspberries placed randomly over my surface, waiting to be snatched up. Pass me one from between your chocolate lips. Let me taste the sour juices contrasting the bittersweet chocolate. Let me lick and suck the raspberry from between your sweet lips until I send you back for another one. When they're gone I'll order you to follow the trail of whipped cream to that mysterious place between my legs. Follow the trail of chocolate syrup up my thighs easing my itching pain to finally plunge your tongue into the abyss.
My back unnaturally arched, you are the culprit. Our bodies sliding together the chocolate melting, the smell getting stronger, and covering us both.
Sitting me upright, forcing me to my knees, you order me to lick at you, clean you up with my tongue and lips. You take your rock hard cock in your hand to guide it over my breasts, wiping up the chocolate mousse left there. You force my head down, taking me by my hair, explaining as you do that I've made a mess and I must clean it up. Your hard cock enters my mouth, eager for that chocolaty smooth head. Still guiding my head, you push and pull me by my hair, forcing my mouth over that pulsing member, making the chocolate melt and run down my chin, penetrating my throat, making me gasp for air. The taste of the bittersweet chocolate mixes with a decidedly more bitter taste of that special boiling liquid you produce on your own, spewing down my throat and I'm finally full. After such a long starvation.
A cream of chocolate, spread knowingly over my body. The perfume penetrating my nose and boring a hole in my brain. Making our mouths water.
Chocolate mousse soft and light dolloped artfully on each nipple.
Whipped cream, the kind in a can, sprayed in patterns over my tight belly leading down between my legs.
Two lines of chocolate syrup, squeezed directly from the bottle on either thigh, letting it drip and trickle, tickling my thighs, making me squirm, making me want to scratch the itch, making me moan for you to lick and bite it.
Raspberries placed randomly over my surface, waiting to be snatched up. Pass me one from between your chocolate lips. Let me taste the sour juices contrasting the bittersweet chocolate. Let me lick and suck the raspberry from between your sweet lips until I send you back for another one. When they're gone I'll order you to follow the trail of whipped cream to that mysterious place between my legs. Follow the trail of chocolate syrup up my thighs easing my itching pain to finally plunge your tongue into the abyss.
My back unnaturally arched, you are the culprit. Our bodies sliding together the chocolate melting, the smell getting stronger, and covering us both.
Sitting me upright, forcing me to my knees, you order me to lick at you, clean you up with my tongue and lips. You take your rock hard cock in your hand to guide it over my breasts, wiping up the chocolate mousse left there. You force my head down, taking me by my hair, explaining as you do that I've made a mess and I must clean it up. Your hard cock enters my mouth, eager for that chocolaty smooth head. Still guiding my head, you push and pull me by my hair, forcing my mouth over that pulsing member, making the chocolate melt and run down my chin, penetrating my throat, making me gasp for air. The taste of the bittersweet chocolate mixes with a decidedly more bitter taste of that special boiling liquid you produce on your own, spewing down my throat and I'm finally full. After such a long starvation.
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