I buy a lot of lingerie. This shouldn’t be shocking considering I run Lingerie Is For Everyone, but buying it =/= wearing it. I have loads of panties that are cute, silky, lacy, racy and they mostly just wait in a drawer until I’m inspired to slip into them and show them off … cue…
Are you up to speed on this awesome new writing prompt: #QuoteQuest, an inclusive, sex-positive prompt that runs weekly on LSB’s blog. The concept is simple: respond, through words and/or images to the quote posted weekly. This week’s quote is:
I’m learning to love my body in a new way, and to my surprise, it’s through masturbation. I’ve begun to relish self pleasure in a way I have never experienced before and I am delighted that I’m not overthinking it. Quite the opposite, it is providing me with a lovely sense of clarity.
Historically speaking, I’m not a very good masturbator. I can do it, I do do it, but it’s always been an act of need, not want. I don’t spend time with my body in that way, I never have, and there have been times that I really wished I did. In the past I’ve written…
There are some acts of intimacy that are so unbearably perfect in my imagination, that I almost hesitate to bring them to fruition. Even dreaming of them feels risky, and yet, if I give them a moment’s consideration, they consume me. Being bathed is one of those fantasies.
I’ve been working on this post for hours and I’ve written and deleted more times than I can count. I’m distracted and frustrated because the words won’t come tonight. But I will.
Content Note: As with all my erotica, particularly involving DD/lg characters, please note that the use of “girl” and “Daddy” are expressive, not literal. All characters are of age and all power exchange dynamics are pre-negotiated. All punishment is consensual.
Sometimes I’m smol. By that I mean: extremely cute, keen and agreeable. Or at least I like to think so! Feeling smol is both incredibly complex for me and also incredibly simple.
Tea and a blowjob is exactly what I’d love to wake up to.”
Exposition My arousal always begins the same way: with a thud. If it were a sound, it would illicit the same jolt of awareness that a heavy knock on a thick wooden door sends through you; startling, deep, and distant.