Hi Readers, I never thought anyone would read anything that I had written much less like and understand it. I started off by posting poems on a message board -- and received positive feedback. So I started this blog thinking okay, maybe others would read my writings and like it (or not) and maybe get something out of it. At the very least, maybe enjoy the poetic tales. Some of which are bits and pieces of my life.
Maybe I shouldn't do this, but she said it was okay. I met someone on-line and we got way more closer than I ever intended. We started off corresponding through e-mails and then IM. We both flirted, but I could tell that it was becoming more for her. I told her not to fall for me. And she said she could handle it. And I was of two mind-sets. Stop before it went further or play and give us both what we needed -- which was to feel that we were wanted. She likes the way I write and I like the way she writes. She sent me a couple of morning E's and it sparked up my days. I've told her that she should blog, but she has things going on right now that has her attention. I think she would really like to see something that she has written posted, so with her permission ...
------------------------------------------------------------
Welcome to the Real World by Wendy (c)2008
------------------------------------------------------------
She rolled the big red cherry around on her tongue, round and firm, big and red, and oh so sweet. Flicking it with her tongue and gently biting a small piece of the delectable fruit’s skin and the nectar of it’s juice filled her mouth. This was supposed to be the night of her life, her reintroduction to “the world”. Her big sullen blue eyes gazed through the haze of smoke, seeing only a vision in her mind, her eyes not registering a thing within view. The boys were dancing feverishly with each other and the few women that were there weren’t worth a second glance, not to her anyway. She continued to roll and play with the cherry in her mouth, sucking on it and dreaming that it was what she really wanted. That vision of her, of her hard red clit, just like the cherry, begging to be sucked and licked and toyed with. What kind of world was she living in now. This was supposed to be a night of fun and frolicking, maybe a hot night in the motel room with some as yet unsuspecting female. She loved the feel of a woman’s body. At least from what she could remember. Somehow the memories belonged to another person than the one who was sitting in the chair at the moment, feeling that lately all too familiar glow between her legs that only meant one thing. She was thinking of her.
A tap on her shoulder distracted her train of thought, though the glow continued to grow silently, She hoped no one would notice the occasional squirm in the chair. The incredibly tight black jeans had a seam that ran through the crotch and when sitting just right it put just an ever so slight amount of pressure on her own clit, which anymore seemed to stand at erect for the least little thing, like licking a cherry. The break in concentration was welcomed, as there were no apparent eligible woman, at least none that were even remotely interesting enough to approach, even with the act of cockiness she had put on last thing before she left her motel room that night.
Soaping herself in the shower, warm hard water beating on her neck and back, washing the cares of the previous months and years away. None of it even seemed real anymore. Her life wasn’t recognizable to her let along everyone else. Sometimes it seemed all a bad dream, at others as if there was no one in the world that even cared if she was alive or dead. She was empty. Everything she thought was her world had simply vanished. The love of her life went down the driveway in a black van, lying silent in the bag, safely enclosed in the thick black bag that they use for those kind of trips. She hadn’t been down the driveway, she hadn’t even been outside the front door for years, and no she was going down the driveway never to return. The comfort of the dogs, all of her beautiful dogs, from 3 days old to the big kids, with their beautiful long flowing hair, always full of unconditional love, even on that, the darkest day of her life. On Christmas eve, only weeks since that first trip down the driveway all of the dogs took the same trip. All she could do was stand until the back of the car was out of site. Her head was spinning in the shower with all of the memories.
But tonight was going to be different. She was confident that she would be a hit with the new people she was about to meet. She was going to be funny and witty, self assured. Surely she could fake her way through the evening. Put on a happy face and with any luck there would be someone to come back to the room. She felt a faintly familiar twinge below when she soaped up her huge breasts., which in spite of the recent reduction in overall body size, they seemed to be staying exactly where they were. She closed her eyes and rolled a nipple in her fingers, aching for someone else’s hands to be touching her, holding her. The ball of net that she was using to clean herself, touched the very edge of her softness between her legs. Would she ever feel that again? She had lived without touch for so long, it was baffling to her that suddenly she wanted to be held and touched and loved forever, maybe to erase the pain of recent memories, maybe to make up for lost time, maybe just to validate her very existence.
So she thought of her, the mystery woman, known only by a screen name but oh what a connection had been made. She couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she had promised to make a go of this, get out there and meet some people, it would all get better once she met some people. Never have been a social butterfly anyway she didn’t really know what a difference it would make but she said she would go, but all she really wanted was to meet one person, her. The netting tickled as she lightly ran it over herself. Bringing tingles of expectation to her body, which had seemingly been taken hostage by a hormone ridden teenage boy waiting to see his first set of real live tits. The soap slide down to her mound with the hot water still pounding her back. Her lips were slippery with the water and the soap and her hand was drawn immediately to that hard red nub that was the epicenter of the earthquake that was about to come. She thought of Her again, closing her eyes and feeling her energy rise up into her, She’d never felt like this before and it was both exhilarating and confusing. The more she thought of her the more excited she got from deep within her. How was it possible to want someone you had never even seen a picture of. Or maybe that was the fascination, it didn’t really matter at the moment. Once drawn into the rubbing and thrusting, it came faster and harder, making her arms ache and her body clenched with orgasm from head to toe. She had to shake her head for a moment to get the spinning to stop. Shake her head to try to rattle Her from her mind.
This was a fresh start. She dressed with care after drying herself as she always did, head to toe with the blow dryer. She lifted each of her breasts and blew the warm rush of air until they were dry. She glanced in the full length mirror at her naked body. The last time she was getting ready to go out like this she was in her twenties, at the top of her game. Now staring back in the mirror was a woman twice that age, silver hair at the temples cut very short and sheik, minimizing her masculine features. Blue-green eyes, depending on what day it was stared back with sadness. They always seemed to be sad anyway. And her mouth, without any effort at all from a single muscle in her face, was naturally settled in a small frown. And it took so much effort to turn it into a smile. She thought for a split second that this whole idea was simply ridiculous. She gave herself a pep talk and she dried between her legs with the hairdryer.
Oh the least little thing seemed like it set a whirlwind off with her body. This was definitely a new experience. She thought that that was what she had changed into when every one told her she was going through the change. She had turned into a sexless woman who was always giving, giving to everyone and everything that needed her, an empty shell, that’s just who she figured she was now. But as the clothes went on, first a nice new velvet thong that looked like a little tuxedo, bow, buttons and all. It felt good pulled up snugly against her mound. She thought, what I really need is a chastity belt, I am going to get in so much trouble. Although that had never been her style. She’d heard about it, she’d read about it, one night stands, she couldn’t comprehend the concept, but a willing student.
The raspberry colored bra brought her breasts back to the same vicinity they were in before the laws of gravity pulled them lower. Even she had to admit that they were one of her best features. The black tank top was low enough both front and back to reveal the raspberry straps and lace in front and the detailed tattoo on her back. The freshly ironed black jeans had just enough spandex to make everything look fit and trim. The black high heeled boots with the leopard print actually made her feel sexy when she put them on. The make up in place, the hair perfect, the crisp white tuxedo shirt, no matter where she was she loved her tuxedo shirt, with the satin burgundy trim that slid against her neck. Spray on a spritz of attitude and she was ready, “Not bad for an old broad” She walked back to the bed where her laptop was, hoping she would see that name, her name on the screen. Nothing. She hadn’t seen her name for two days and couldn’t help but find every reason for the sudden lack of correspondence. It was all just in fun anyway wasn’t it. She had made it clear from the beginning that there were attachments elsewhere, but there was something about her. Something that kept staying in her head, was it just the mesmerizing words of seduction, was it the willingness to share her many hours talking on the computer, whatever it was she was in her head and she couldn’t shake her loose.
The cherry crumbled into pieces in her mouth. Still much more enjoying the thoughts of her computer fantasy woman with that strange call name, SweetnSalty. Just thinking of the idea of her suddenly put a grin in her step that hadn’t been there for as long as she could remember. Made her groin want to rise to greet the day. Just thinking of that last time on the computer, how could such passion and desire arise from words coming through the laptop. But it was fun and exciting and it was just innocent fun. Then why did she keep creeping into her mind. She glanced back up at the drag show going on, beautiful menwomen, but nothing compared to the way she thought of her. Without a photo or so much as a physical description she already knew this woman was beautiful. She hadn’t invited her into her life, but left the door open to her words, and words like that could only emanate from something beautiful. A gift of God. And so, so incredibly sexy.
Unbearably so, teasing relentlessly until she knew that it was making her hot and wet and writhing on the bed under the warmth of the computer. She would put her words together and they merged into this incredible surge of power, literally feeling a different energy, what in the world was going on. Words that set her world on fire, aching for her words and she knew that, and almost seemed to enjoy the fact that she knew good and well that if she placed her hand through the computer and touch between the hot pink lips she would find an hard pink clit, like the cherry, ready to explode, and if she slid her fingers down to her slit she would easily slide into the deepest depths of her body with the wetness, like being swept up in a tidal wave, tidal wave, tidal wave… She had to shake her head again and reorient herself to her surroundings.
The music still blaring, boys and girls half her age, . It was like watching a film someone had made of her life and she felt very out of place. So she went back and got and reached into the plastic cup and got another cherry and put it into her mouth, to treat it gently and make it last until it just bursts it’s juice into her mouth. Ah the sweetness. Then she picked up her drink, a margarita, she didn’t even really drink but needed a margarita for one reason alone. She touched her tongue to the rim ever so gently and licked off some of the salt, and mixed it with the cherry pieces, and thought of her woman, somewhere over the rainbow. There was absolutely nothing in the so called real world that even came close to captivating her the way this imaginary woman did. All she wanted, all she could think of was getting that next email, with that name.
And so it was, surrounded by real live people, in a real live world, she spent the evening with her cherries and her salty rims, thinking of her, and thinking of her energy and how it felt better than anything she was looking at. And knowing that if she went back to the motel room at the end of the evening alone, that that ...
/E\
Dream of Me by Wendy (c)2008
