Monday, February 22, 2010


My oldest friend
My greatest enemy

I've swung on your branches
Thrown my arms wide

And twirled under
Your cool shade trees

I've rolled down your hills
Scraped my knees on your gravel

I've watched your clouds roll by
And slept in your church parking lots

I've laughed with you
I've cried--even bled with you

In many ways I'll be sad to leave you
My boys took their first steps in your grass

I found solace in your parks
But I found pain in your cities

Mostly I'll be relieved to say good-bye
And overjoyed to see you in my rear view mirror

Thursday, February 11, 2010

The Spankering

She taunted him with wicked glee. The corner of her lips curled into a naughty smile and she stuck her tongue out at him. Her nose crinkled and she squealed with delight as he rose from his chair and started toward her. "Minx..." he growled as he stalked her. She backed up and slipped around the corner--giggling.

He grinned a decidedly wicked grin and reached for her. But she slipped out of his grasp. He stopped and narrowed his eyes on her pretty face. "I'm not chasing you. Come here." He ordered her about as if she were child. She posed provocatively and tossed her head defiantly, "No. You want me? You're gonna have to come and get me."

"Noooo...I don't think I have to chase you. I think you'll come to me. Everything comes to me." He folded his arms across his chest, completely confident that she'd do as instructed. She threw her head back and laughed. He watched in shock as she turned her back to him and put a hand on the stair in front of her. Her body twisted so that she could watch him over her shoulder as she pulled the hem of her skirt up to reveal a garment no better than dental floss. She ran her free hand over her ass and hooked a finger around the edge of the thong and started to slide it over her hip. Then she stopped and asked him sweetly, "Are you sure you won't come over here, Baby?"

He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how tight his jeans had grown. "If I come over there it'll be to give you the spankering of your life...In fact, I think I'm gonna give you a spankering regardless." He walked over to the closet and pulled out a wooden ping-pong paddle. She dropped her skirt and sat on the step quickly, laughing nervously, "You can't be serious!"

He slapped his open palm with the paddle, "Can't I?" He smiled like the Cheshire Cat and walked past her. He sat in his lazy chair as if he were a king taking his throne. She cautiously stepped up to the doorway, "I don't see how you're gonna spank me. I'm not foolish enough to come to you while you're holding a weapon." He sat the paddle on the table next him and winked at her, "No worries, Honey Bunny, you'll come to me." His hands went to the top of his jeans.

Her jaw dropped and she shook her head slowly, "You wouldn't!" He laughed a deep and rich rumble that filled the room and sent her stomach into turbulence. He tugged the zipper down chiding her softly, "It's as if you don't know me at all." He reached under his shorts and freed his erection. He began to touch himself in smooth, purposeful strokes. His eyes closed briefly and his head tilted back. He moaned just a little and she watched him hungrily. She took in his salt-n-pepper beard and his beautiful eyes as he opened them to stare at her. She watched his strong fingers sliding over his shaft and her mouth watered.

He looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes and called to her. "Here kitty, kitty. Look at you trying so hard to be good. You want a taste, don't you Honey Bunny?" She took an involuntary step toward him and licked her lips. She did want a taste. Her knees shook, her body ached, burned for him. But she caught herself, "No." She croaked the word, her throat tight. He chuckled at her predicament. "Yes, you do. It's okay, you can taste me. I'll let you. And I won't even touch the paddle." He set the paddle on the floor, the handle resting against the chair. "See?" He gave her an innocent look--even as he continued to pleasure himself.

She knew he couldn't be trusted, but her willpower was wavering with the rhythm he was keeping. It was excruciating—the sweetest torture. She took a step toward him, heeding the spell he'd cast. He licked his lips, enticing her. "That's a good girl. Come have a nibble." A small groan escaped her mouth and she whispered, "It is my favorite lollipop." He smirked with satisfaction, "I know it is."

She walked to him and knelt before his open legs. She reached a shaky hand out to touch him, but he intercepted her movement. He grasped her wrist, yanked her up and over his knee. He grabbed the paddle and smacked her ass with it soundly. She squirmed and shrieked. "Oh you Brat!" He laughed at her misery, "That's for taunting me." He cracked her again, not too hard though, "That's for squirming." She fought him and yelled, "Ouch! Oh, you'll rue the day!" He tossed the paddle and slapped her one last time, grabbing a handful of her juicy bottom, "And that's just because it's fun."

He dumped her to the floor, but held onto her wrist. She struggled against him, her face flushed and furious. She rubbed her sore tush with her free hand. He leaned forward and she opened her mouth to verbally assault him, but he covered her mouth with his. He kissed her roughly. His tongue stroked hers, their lips sliding over each other’s. He moved his hands to caress her ass and run up her hips, moved them past her waist and to cup her breasts. He tweaked her nipples and kissed her again and again--sucking at her lips. She melted against him, sighing, whimpering in the back of her throat. He eased his mouth from hers and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "You were saying?"

She opened dazed eyes and tried to work her swollen lips, "Huh?" He massaged the soft skin of her ass and smiled with smug satisfaction. "That's what I thought." He swatted her backside gently and told her firmly, "Go fix us a sandwich." That snapped her awake and she glared at him, "Nope. I won't do it." He leaned back in his chair, zipped up his pants, and picked up the paddle. She covered her bottom with her hands as she scrambled to her feet, eyes wide, "You wouldn’t dare!"

He grinned, "Make mine roast beef." She sneered at him, "Fine. But this is to be continued." She turned toward the kitchen, but his words stopped her short. "You bet your sweet ass it is." She smiled to herself and thought, ‘Okay, Brat, we’ll see who gets spanked next…’

Friday, February 5, 2010

Let's Do Lunch

“I hate my vibrator!” Sasha huffed as she slumped into the chair, dropping her shopping bags at her feet. “I swear it was designed by men.” She laughed and mocked, "Oh, let’s shove hard plastic up there. Oh, and let’s make it strong enough to break bones while we’re at it!" She doubled-over laughing and slapped the table. “Why not just sell 'Jack Hammers for women'?”

Abby’s eyebrows shot up and she gave Sasha her trademark, “I can’t believe you just said that,” look. “Okay, then. Rough afternoon, Sasha?” Sasha chuckled and patted Abby’s hand, “You’re such a prude. But I love you for it.” Kyra shook her head at the two of them. “So get a new vibrator, Sasha. It’s not that big a deal. Or better yet, get a man.”

“That’s not the point, Kyra. It’s supposed to give pleasure, not inflict teeth shattering pain.” Kyra rolled her eyes and replied, “Well, you’re not supposed to suck on it while it’s vibrating!” Kyra laughed and then thought about it a minute, “I dunno. I like mine. Maybe you’re just doing it wrong?” Sasha scoffed, “I’ve been doing this for twenty years. I think I know how to use a vibrator. Nope. Invented by men just to torture us, I’m positive.”

Abby blushed and stared at her salad. It was difficult to listen to their conversations sometimes. “Personally, I don’t see the point of a vibrator. I’d rather have a man. A vibrator can’t kiss you, or hold you, or do any of the things a man can do.” Sasha grinned, “True, Dear, but it won’t stand you up or cheat on you either. Its sole purpose is to bring pleasure. A man’s sole purpose is to please himself first and you as an after-thought—IF it’s convenient.”

Kyra considered each argument before weighing in. “I don’t think all men are like that, Sasha. But I do think it’s nice to have a quiet evening by myself once in a while. I don’t have to curl my hair, shave my legs, or play courtesan to some guy who probably won’t call when he said he would. Or who’ll talk over me and insist that his opinion is right and mine is drivel. A vibrator may not be better—but it’s a hell of a lot more peaceful.”

“No,” Abby shook her head. “No, a man is better. The way he looks at you as if you’re the only woman in the world, the way he holds you, strokes your cheek…a cold plastic toy can’t compete with that. Where’s the romance in drilling your…your…hoo-ha? No thank you, I’d take a man over that any day.”

Sasha crossed her legs and leaned forward. She tapped the table and snickered, “I love a good man, too. Don’t get me wrong. But sometimes I get so sick of the “everything is all about me,” crap they spew. Pouting like little boys just because they don’t get their way—please! Kyra’s right about the vibrator being more peaceful. Except for mine, that is a painful hunk of junk and headed for a landfill.”

“I’m telling you there’s no way a sex toy is better than a man. No way at all. It can’t sniff the crook of your neck, or tickle your belly with warm breath. It can’t snuggle on the couch and watch a movie. It can’t say ‘I love you.’ You’ll never convince me it’s better. Besides, it just feels wrong to grope myself and ride a ...a …well, you know.” Abby crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, her mouth forming a thin line of finality.

Kyra laughed at the two of them. Each made a good point, but neither would budge. It was pointless to try and sway them. So she took a bite of her salad and listened to them bicker amongst themselves.

Sasha railed on and on about the evil contraptions men invented to abuse women with. “Look at high heels. Sure they look sexy, but what woman has ever said, ‘Wow, my feet feel fantastic after an eight hour day in heels!’ Of course they don’t. Perched up on your tippy-toes about to fall flat on your face is not comfortable! I’m telling you that vibrators, heels, and underwire all have men’s name on it.”

Abby shook her head. “I’m confused. If you hate your vibrator and you think that it’s a man’s way of torturing you then why do you think it’s better than a man? That’s some kind of crazy double-think.” Sasha snapped, “No. It’s just a fact. If a woman had invented a vibrator it would color coordinate with our nighties and feel good.”

They laughed at that while they finished their lunch. Then a tiny old lady stopped them as they were packing up their shopping bags. Her wrinkled face was sweet as an angel’s. She set a large black purse on their table with shaking hands. “Hi girls,” she began, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and I thought I might offer a bit of wisdom.”

The three younger women encouraged the elderly woman to join them. They smiled at each other wondering what such a darling old lady could possibly have to say. The old woman declined to sit and opened her purse instead. “Well, I’ve been married for over 53 years and there’s one thing I can say for sure…” Her frail voice trailed off as she dug through her bag. “What you want is a synthetic dildo and the Lion’s Den has them for twenty percent off.” She proceeded to fish out the toy to show them.

They sat there, silent and dumbfounded, as the old lady put her toy away, closed up her bag, and walked off. Sasha was the first to recover. She looked at Kyra and Abby and chuckled, “And that, Ladies, is reason enough to be wary of little old ladies with big black satchels.”