Xmas can't come fast enough
After an extremely long week at work it is finally time to put the feet up, relax and reflect on what has been quite an eventful year in the life of bhp. Hang-on.. thats next week.. Still have to get through Xmas day and the ensuing carnage that this time of year demands. Hmmm.
Well atleast the menu is arranged. All the shopping done.
It's Friday night, I'm home alone, and the bath is drawing.
I'm a little distracted by it's steamy allure.
An oversized glass of Cloudy Bay Pinot to keep me company.
On top of that it's just the delicious thought of a lovely vixen by the baths edge, languidly stroking my supple member to its heaving, erect state.
I think I might just slip into that bath right now.. and wait.
For you to join me.
Friday 23 December 2011
Sunday 18 December 2011
friendship
the ins and outs
part vi
I took my turn perched on the benches edge as D stood in front of me.
Ever so gently she began to raise her dress, silky smooth thighs revealed themselves to me, and then a tiny piece of lace appeared, teasingly separating me from my want. Further up her dress rose, over hip and taut belly. I recall thinking in this moment that this was the most beautiful creature on Earth. I said as much. D smiled, knowingly, and began to sway at the hip. A truly hypnotic vision, I may well have drooled a little. 'Off'' she said, pointing at the lace. I fingered the elastic strings that bound her hips and stripped her of the damp G, falling easily to the floor under the extra weight. Without hesitation she stepped out of them and pressed her near clean shaven mound, hard into my face. Her hands clawed at my scalp, reefing my hair as I buried my face into her. I've not tasted sweeter. I tired to breathe, but inhaled only D. I nibbled on her, lapped licked and sucked on her lips, working my way to her button, I latched on pulling her into me, rhythmically, feeding on her moans of approval, her swollen, saturated, lustfilled cunt, so beautiful in its ready and willing state. I supped on her further, inhaling her all intoxicating scent, and pushed into her with fingers bent. Without the company of friends to hold her back D expressed her pleasure more readily, much to my delight. She began to fuck my face, literally, my fingers definitely finding their mark. Her hands gripped me tight, there was no escaping this honey trap. I sensed her building to orgasm as my steady probing began to take its toll. I was short of breath, and just as I felt as though I was about to pass out through lack of oxygen D pulled herself away, resting briefly, hunched over, propped up on my shoulders she proclaimed 'Thats enough' and slammed me back against the bench. Within a second she had straddled me and grabbed my cock. Hovering over me for a further second before dousing my throbbing head in her slickness. My meat now ached from hardness and denial. She did not hesitate one second longer, plunging herself down on me with force and a cry. The light began to blur as D ground into me. I've never felt so connected to any one thing. Deep inside another part of her opened up to me and unleashed some otherworldly sensations. Between gasps and almost pained breaths we kissed.. our mouths mirroring the connection below. My hands mapped the pendulum movements of D's ass, the contours of her lower back, before returning to her hips. 'Fuck me' I begged 'Come for me' She picked up her pace and did just that. Her throws became more deliberate, more violent, her breathing more sporadic, a staccato rasping, she drew my head into her breast, looked up out beyond the flickering bulb, and began to let go entirely. I held her firm, her supple body tensed, breathe, pump, thrust, squeezed the very essence of lust, as it came out of her in a tremendous gush. Inhale, exhale, she wailed convulsing wildly on my dick, her climax filtering out through all her pores. 'Fuck'.. fuck indeed. I let her breathe and marvelled in the cloying affection of one such as she, in a moment such as this, punch drunk and overdosed on bliss. This is what I treasured most.
end part vi
the ins and outs
part vi
I took my turn perched on the benches edge as D stood in front of me.
Ever so gently she began to raise her dress, silky smooth thighs revealed themselves to me, and then a tiny piece of lace appeared, teasingly separating me from my want. Further up her dress rose, over hip and taut belly. I recall thinking in this moment that this was the most beautiful creature on Earth. I said as much. D smiled, knowingly, and began to sway at the hip. A truly hypnotic vision, I may well have drooled a little. 'Off'' she said, pointing at the lace. I fingered the elastic strings that bound her hips and stripped her of the damp G, falling easily to the floor under the extra weight. Without hesitation she stepped out of them and pressed her near clean shaven mound, hard into my face. Her hands clawed at my scalp, reefing my hair as I buried my face into her. I've not tasted sweeter. I tired to breathe, but inhaled only D. I nibbled on her, lapped licked and sucked on her lips, working my way to her button, I latched on pulling her into me, rhythmically, feeding on her moans of approval, her swollen, saturated, lustfilled cunt, so beautiful in its ready and willing state. I supped on her further, inhaling her all intoxicating scent, and pushed into her with fingers bent. Without the company of friends to hold her back D expressed her pleasure more readily, much to my delight. She began to fuck my face, literally, my fingers definitely finding their mark. Her hands gripped me tight, there was no escaping this honey trap. I sensed her building to orgasm as my steady probing began to take its toll. I was short of breath, and just as I felt as though I was about to pass out through lack of oxygen D pulled herself away, resting briefly, hunched over, propped up on my shoulders she proclaimed 'Thats enough' and slammed me back against the bench. Within a second she had straddled me and grabbed my cock. Hovering over me for a further second before dousing my throbbing head in her slickness. My meat now ached from hardness and denial. She did not hesitate one second longer, plunging herself down on me with force and a cry. The light began to blur as D ground into me. I've never felt so connected to any one thing. Deep inside another part of her opened up to me and unleashed some otherworldly sensations. Between gasps and almost pained breaths we kissed.. our mouths mirroring the connection below. My hands mapped the pendulum movements of D's ass, the contours of her lower back, before returning to her hips. 'Fuck me' I begged 'Come for me' She picked up her pace and did just that. Her throws became more deliberate, more violent, her breathing more sporadic, a staccato rasping, she drew my head into her breast, looked up out beyond the flickering bulb, and began to let go entirely. I held her firm, her supple body tensed, breathe, pump, thrust, squeezed the very essence of lust, as it came out of her in a tremendous gush. Inhale, exhale, she wailed convulsing wildly on my dick, her climax filtering out through all her pores. 'Fuck'.. fuck indeed. I let her breathe and marvelled in the cloying affection of one such as she, in a moment such as this, punch drunk and overdosed on bliss. This is what I treasured most.
end part vi
Saturday 17 December 2011
Seeking the unobtainable?
thoughts on attachment
In a recent chat with a lovely friend of mine we came about the discussion of commitment and relationships, and whether it is possible to sustain such things, for the greater good, particularly when every fibre of being is pulling you in your own direction.
Is commitment and sustainability an option in an ever self-ingratiating society?
Can one commit oneself, wholy and with confidence, without attaching oneself to the outcome, and placing too much emphasis on those things that have not yet eventuated. Because to do so sets in motion a pattern, a learned behaviour, an almost inevitable outcome, a self fulfilling prophecy.
Is it possible to just be? To just be in the moment?
To be committed yet unattached?
My dear friend claimed this to be an oxymoron. And while I would admit to many moronic traits and tendancies, I do believe it possible. (atleast thats what I tell myself- that it is possible- because for me it has to be)
While I am no expert, at anything, I have ventured around the block once or twice and have unwittingly learnt something along the way, and that is - what works for me.
During times of great desperation, those times when a tactile control of my situation was out of reach, those times when confusion, indecision and indifference reign (but not through a lack of want, or a desire for betterment and contentedness, just because sometimes life appears to me this way), in times like this, I have found, that the first step forward needs to be prompted by one important realisation..
An acceptance of what 'IS'.
In this practice I have found a great deal of relief, and light, and focus.
Things just are.
There is only a certain amount of influence I can have over my space. The rest is determined by an infinite amount of other randomness. Unfathomable in its range of possibility. Things happen just because. And sometimes nothing happens at all. Seldom does it happen the way I planned it, or wish it to.
Accepting that things just are/were/will be, is the first step to a freedom that allows me to commit myself without attachment.
I have also learnt to hope less, much less, as in not at all. Hope breeds in me the unnecessary and usually unfulfillable expectations that I place on my relationships, whenever I decide to commit. I realise now that it is totally unfair to ask so much, particularly of the unknown, of an uncertain future. All I really possess is the ability to enjoy this very moment, or not.
Hope has hurt me, or more precisely misled me, And in my experience come to very little, if anything, except to assist in division and derision.
It occurs to me that hope is another brand of worry, which can (not all the time, but most often) manifest itself in me as stress. And to stress about events that have not even come to pass is futile, harmful, toxic even, not to mention a complete waste of very useful energy. Energy that would be far better spent looking for, dissecting and enjoying the minutia of the moment I am in. Not focussing on the 'when' or the 'in future' or for that matter the 'back then'.
For me, reminiscing is just as damaging as hope. Bedfellows if you like. Nasty ones. Not the good nasty.. but the bad.
I have learnt to reminisce as little as possible, and if I do, I balance the books these days.
By nature I think we choose to remember the good times, the sugar coated details, thats how we are wired. I now try to note the bad as well. In doing so I truly believe that I am breaking a pattern. I find that this has helped me greatly reduce my attachment to the future, and what might be. An ideal world is for me a totally different dimension, and not one that is readily accessible to me in this current state. But it is accessible to me in this current moment. By having no attachment to the outcome.
I wont go into the exact detail of my situation, but I have found that by adhering as closely as possible to these principles, believing in them, concentrating on this precious moment, instead of what may be over the horizon, or what was back in the day, has enabled me a far greater freedom to be, and vitally, to let others be. Important and relevant others.
In practice, it has enabled another perspective to open up to me. One that isn't directly influenced by emotion, which in my eyes is tight and ringfenced. I can only describe it as a wider view, with more space, into which I can move, or create, or even invite something or someone.
This has been my experience, and I feel all the better for it. For sure it is difficult and it does take alot of discipline, but with practice it becomes easier.
Some might read this post quite literally and see me as being rather pessimistic, giving up hope and reminiscence... But I see it in quite the opposite light.
Horses for courses I suppose.
I'm always interested in hearing how others manage to deal with expectation and attachment and commitment etc. So if you care to throw in your 2 cents worth, please feel free.
thoughts on attachment
In a recent chat with a lovely friend of mine we came about the discussion of commitment and relationships, and whether it is possible to sustain such things, for the greater good, particularly when every fibre of being is pulling you in your own direction.
Is commitment and sustainability an option in an ever self-ingratiating society?
Can one commit oneself, wholy and with confidence, without attaching oneself to the outcome, and placing too much emphasis on those things that have not yet eventuated. Because to do so sets in motion a pattern, a learned behaviour, an almost inevitable outcome, a self fulfilling prophecy.
Is it possible to just be? To just be in the moment?
To be committed yet unattached?
My dear friend claimed this to be an oxymoron. And while I would admit to many moronic traits and tendancies, I do believe it possible. (atleast thats what I tell myself- that it is possible- because for me it has to be)
While I am no expert, at anything, I have ventured around the block once or twice and have unwittingly learnt something along the way, and that is - what works for me.
During times of great desperation, those times when a tactile control of my situation was out of reach, those times when confusion, indecision and indifference reign (but not through a lack of want, or a desire for betterment and contentedness, just because sometimes life appears to me this way), in times like this, I have found, that the first step forward needs to be prompted by one important realisation..
An acceptance of what 'IS'.
In this practice I have found a great deal of relief, and light, and focus.
Things just are.
There is only a certain amount of influence I can have over my space. The rest is determined by an infinite amount of other randomness. Unfathomable in its range of possibility. Things happen just because. And sometimes nothing happens at all. Seldom does it happen the way I planned it, or wish it to.
Accepting that things just are/were/will be, is the first step to a freedom that allows me to commit myself without attachment.
I have also learnt to hope less, much less, as in not at all. Hope breeds in me the unnecessary and usually unfulfillable expectations that I place on my relationships, whenever I decide to commit. I realise now that it is totally unfair to ask so much, particularly of the unknown, of an uncertain future. All I really possess is the ability to enjoy this very moment, or not.
Hope has hurt me, or more precisely misled me, And in my experience come to very little, if anything, except to assist in division and derision.
It occurs to me that hope is another brand of worry, which can (not all the time, but most often) manifest itself in me as stress. And to stress about events that have not even come to pass is futile, harmful, toxic even, not to mention a complete waste of very useful energy. Energy that would be far better spent looking for, dissecting and enjoying the minutia of the moment I am in. Not focussing on the 'when' or the 'in future' or for that matter the 'back then'.
For me, reminiscing is just as damaging as hope. Bedfellows if you like. Nasty ones. Not the good nasty.. but the bad.
I have learnt to reminisce as little as possible, and if I do, I balance the books these days.
By nature I think we choose to remember the good times, the sugar coated details, thats how we are wired. I now try to note the bad as well. In doing so I truly believe that I am breaking a pattern. I find that this has helped me greatly reduce my attachment to the future, and what might be. An ideal world is for me a totally different dimension, and not one that is readily accessible to me in this current state. But it is accessible to me in this current moment. By having no attachment to the outcome.
I wont go into the exact detail of my situation, but I have found that by adhering as closely as possible to these principles, believing in them, concentrating on this precious moment, instead of what may be over the horizon, or what was back in the day, has enabled me a far greater freedom to be, and vitally, to let others be. Important and relevant others.
In practice, it has enabled another perspective to open up to me. One that isn't directly influenced by emotion, which in my eyes is tight and ringfenced. I can only describe it as a wider view, with more space, into which I can move, or create, or even invite something or someone.
This has been my experience, and I feel all the better for it. For sure it is difficult and it does take alot of discipline, but with practice it becomes easier.
Some might read this post quite literally and see me as being rather pessimistic, giving up hope and reminiscence... But I see it in quite the opposite light.
Horses for courses I suppose.
I'm always interested in hearing how others manage to deal with expectation and attachment and commitment etc. So if you care to throw in your 2 cents worth, please feel free.
Thursday 8 December 2011
friendship
the ins and outs
part v
The next few frames, lasting an eternity, are etched deeply in my minds eye.
All I want is to feel the touch of her tongue, the warmth and acceptance of her open mouth. She bites at my thickened meat playfully. I'm losing patience, losing my mind.
She cups my now laden balls and clamps down with her teeth, just behind the ridge of my crown. Her heated breath permeates the elasticised cotton, into the very core of my desire.
I've excercised enough restraint.
'Stop teasing me'.
She glances up, meeting my near tormented gaze, flashes her effortless smile, licks her lips and with both hands opens up her prize.
I dont recall my dick ever feeling heavier. It spills out, collecting D firmly on the cheek. "Whoa". D plants a hand around the base of my shaft and with the other starts a gentle tug.
A sense of relief ripples through me at once. Blood rushes in further.
"Oh my god". She pulls my skin as best she can over my swollen head, and flicks her tongue over what little of it remains exposed. I'm not sure how to cope.
She starts to tug with a little more intent, bringing my dick to an arching salute. She pumps it, fully exposing the swollen purple head.. She pushes her tongue into the eye, sending shock waves through my stomach and thighs.
Bliss overwhelms me as her outstretched mouth envelopes... just the crown.. but it feels... so... damn... good.
Right then I resist the urge to grip the back of her neck, and force my way in.
I really have to fight it though.
D however, can sense the immediacy required and works her way on. I watch in amazement as her lips glide smoothly down the length of my meat. I squirm with delight as she expertly kneads my balls. I dont want this to end. She beats a delightful rhythm along it's length.
Such a good girl.
At one point during the inward journey, I cant help but push in all the way, that extra inch, the thickest part. She does well to disguise a gag, and then carrys on with more determination. These obscenely delicious moments seem to last forever. But its time to fuck.
I pull out of her luscious mouth and lift D to her feet. We kiss deeply while she continues tugging on me.
end part v
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