wednesday wild

shadows

a warm place

tits tuesday - ix

hands

the sun is a light bulb

The sun has burned away the clouds again. It's getting ready to sear the earth for yet another day. I think this is the third day in a row where temperatures have peaked above 26C. It's too early for this.
Day eight. I wish the nights would revolve as quickly as the days. Sleep evades me, keeping just out of reach, like a hummingbird at a flower. I miss her breathing, her warmth against my arm, my shoulder, my thigh. The absence of voices hang between these walls and presses down like a blanket. Television does nothing to dispel the loneliness. 

Music calms the waters of my soul yet leaves behind little ripples of emptiness. Her distant voice is the shore of my longing.

god forbid II

for the breast prices in town

salacious sunday - slave

Slaves, obey your earthly masters with deep respect and fear. Serve them sincerely as you would serve Christ.

~ Ephesians 6:5

titillating tuesday

pretty maids all in a row

self centred

mysterious murder in snowy cream

...that's what they called the movie Fargo in China. It's a great movie. Typical Coen Brothers.

Death by dullness

Life can be so tough when sucking a cock. Perhaps if she was watching the movie while performing her obligatory duty, the chore would not have been so tedious.

anti-climatic climax (or replacing a faucet)

Two days and three trips to Canadian Tire to remove the old faucet. 15 minutes to install the new one. I felt cheated. A rather Anti-climatic finish to an arduous task that involved a Dremel, a plumber's wrench, pliers, WD-40, towels, deep sockets, ratchet extensions and a rather colourful sprinkling of profanities for good measure. The sparks were pretty, although the safety glasses didn't prevent singed hair. A good old fashion cap turned backwards did the trick.

She sucked my cock after wards. On her knees on the kitchen floor. In front of the window with the blinds open to allow the sun shine to fall upon the plants on the sill. And spill across her red hair. My cock was soft at first as she stroked it with her lips. It glistened with her spit and slid easily in and out of her mouth. Her eyes smouldered with a deep green fire that spoke of gratitude and lust. I didn't cum that time. I did later that night, exploding inside her as her thighs gripped my waist as tight as a wrestler's hold.

"Thank you Master", she whispered in my ear as I held her, our bodies shuddering in unison. I breathed in her hair and her scent from her neck. She dragged her nails down my back and dug them into the back of my thighs.
"I will keep you inside me tonight. Thank you"

of lists & listlessness

I am listless. I need a list. There is a temporary injunction against order in my life.
I scrubbed the toilet, the bath tub, the sink. I got down on my knees and wiped the ceramic floor. I vacuumed, fixed the vacuum cleaner, replaced three old electric outlets with new black ones. I've shoveled the driveway and the back yard terrace. His hair was white as snow. It's a biblical reference to purity and light. Why do these ecclesiastical thoughts pop into my head at seemingly the most curios times.

I swept the hardwood floors, cleaned the furnace air filters and the litter box. I went shopping for groceries, but since I did not have a list, I wondered up and down each aisle like a misguided grocery ranger staring at each item with a mixture of suspicion and awe. Why are there so many different types of cream of corn? Have you seen the selection of yogurts? I am convinced there is a dairy conspiracy. Are we being milked?

Mr Grey Pants is a purring, vibrating hot water bottle. It's cold outside. It is cold inside too. The temperature outside is plummeting like a hawk towards some unfortunate prey. It warmed up enough to melt most of the snow off the roads. But now the wind screams like a banshee in heat as it tries desperately to claw it's way between the crack in the door frame. It's the same wind that's driving a cold front, flogging the air mercilessly to sub-zero temperatures. I suppose I should get up and fix the door it but it's not on the list. Besides, the cat is too comfortable.
But not as comfortable or warm as her presence. I call her my shadow. Shadows exist only in the presence of light. A light that shines simply when the phone rings at odd times and her voice breaths hello.
I have to make an appointment for an oil change and cancel another appointment. I have a blood test some time this week. I forgot to pickup cream for coffee and razor blades. I need a list.

salacious sunday - the psalms

But I trust in your loving kindness.
My heart rejoices in your salvation.
~Psalms 13:5

the ties that bind

Driftwood - Stanley Park, Vancouver

simplicity by design

her flair for creativity yields colour in to my monotone world