make me purr

I woke up today to the sounds of a happy girlfriend busily working on some “honey-dos”, making a lot of racket, and the pup barking up a storm.

Why was she so happy? Could it be linked to why she’s walking a bit bow-legged today? Ohhh, yes, I pounded her last night harder than she’s been pounded in a good long while. Oooh, yes, my wrist and lower arm are a little sore, so I can only imagine how she’s feeling.

We went out last night. I asked her to wear a garter belt and stockings, since I think those are so incredibly sexy. She obliged and even wore a short dress to show them off. Damn, that girl has fine legs. I’ve never really thought of myself as a leg woman, but she’s got the legs, the butt, the boobs, the whole nine yards –and of course, my weakness, the eyes.

(and a lovely, delightful, sweet personality, and a mind-boggling intellect, in case she reads this)

Only one of our friends joined us for drinks, and he decided it was time to toddle home around 2. She came off the dance floor and sat down in my lap and started running her hands down my back and arms and nibbling my ear, and asked if I wanted to go home –I’d have to drive –or wait around until she sobered up enough to drive.

She didn’t have to ask twice. We got home and I very nearly pounced on her on the couch, but she pushed me off and had me feed the fuzzies. She ran upstairs while I did that, and I joined her just a minute later. A little bit of cuddling turned into a lot of kissing, and soon she was pulling on gloves over her long nails and I was trying not to rip her panties off.

I guess a couple drinks did her good – not long after that, she was arching into my hand, grinding, moaning, clutching at the sheets and writhing around… and she never really gets vocal, never really grinds and moves around like that. Just watching her was getting me hot, and I grabbed her hand and put it down between my legs. She was a little too distracted to do much down there, but I took care of business myself – all she had to do was hold her hand there and I wriggled against it.

I asked her if she wanted me to get a toy, but she was already too far gone to care about that. It seemed to go on and on, and I could feel her squeezing my fingers tighter and tighter then relaxing, then squeezing again, over and over. One last, long moan and she lay back, eyes closed, blissful smile. I scampered off to wash up. I came back, and she was nearly asleep. I had to pull the gloves off her hands for her.

Ok, I have no idea how I got another cold. It’s not like I was out kissing everyone within arms’ reach again. My sweetie is being a mother-hen, making sure I recover. She gave me some cold medicine last night, and for the first night in a few days I got a good night’s sleep.I had more sex dreams.  I dreamt that she wanted us to become polyamorous, and encouraged me to find a male lover – she was going to do the same. I looked up an ex (who conveniently had moved to this city, in the dream) and he admitted he had missed me. Then – let the wokka wokka music begin – we did the nasty.Woke up from that before it finished, sadly, fell back asleep, and had another dream. I was performing in a play, doing a dance number. It was at my elementary school, as a sort of fundraiser or something. I had forgotten a prop and was going to run home to get it, when the ex from the first dream showed up and said he’d go get it.weird, all the way around.  

My grandmother has been on my mind lately. Not just my grandmother, let me amend that. My grandmothers, both of them, my late grandfathers, all three of them, (divorce and remarriage), my sweetie’s grandmothers and grandfathers…(I had to save this and come back a few days later to finish the post) Her grandmother just died today.  My mom told me my grandmother was considering destroying all her old love letters from my grandfather, when they were (in her words) courting, and shortly after they married and he was away.I can’t let that happen. I would love to see those letters. Gramma says she’s afraid what we’d all think – she said they are rather “spicy”. I’m not afraid of that.I imagine they’d be sweet, spicy, very human, real letters from that time. I imagine she would have been saving them all this time, tied with a pink satin ribbon, cushioned with dried rose petals from old bouquets. I’ve saved nearly all of my old love letters. I’d like more written ones, on paper, rather than email. There’s something that gets lost in translation that way. One can leave lipstick kisses on paper, or a little spritz of perfume. 

Oh MY! I have been having just the naughtiest dreams lately – night after night of soaking wet-hot dreams, the kind that leave me disappointed when I wake up and find that I’m not really —doing whatever I’m doing, with whomever I’m with. (With the exceptions of the recurring “loosing my teeth and jaw” nightmares, and the “taking care of tiny baby animals” dreams) Don’t worry, I have been known to keep a dream journal, and soon I’ll mash some together and post it. It will be spectacular.