Who are you working for?

I was given five writing assignments from a lovely woman and had a deadline looming. I’d written four, not always hitting each deadline accurately and had one more to finish. For that final assignment I turned to a story idea that has been rolling around in my head for years. Over the holidays I found some inspiration to further the story from my vanilla world. A roommate reminded me of a vanilla event in our world during the holidays years ago. Chloe and I had already taken that event into fantasy land, but it was very isolated. Then I combined that real life and fantasy combination with some current events and mashed those all in together with yet another storyline…  I wrote the first chapter of a work of fiction that would only be novel sized. The lovely woman who assigned me writing work loved it. Another person I shared it with loved it.

So I found myself attached to the story and my outline was fleshing out nicely, so I continued with the story into the second chapter. And that’s where we were last night.

Both of us in bed, she was tired, both from work, the cold and her early mornings. We watched an episode of one of her favorite shows but I lay in bed on my computer writing furiously.

“Who are you working for?” she asked.

I paused. “I don’t know.” I thought about it for a moment, “I think… me.”

And this was odd for me. I do a lot for others (not trying to toot my own horn, I hope it doesn’t sound like I am). And here I was not writing for an assignment, not writing for my Mistress, but perhaps, just writing for me. And I smiled inside, thinking that I was doing a good thing for myself.

I want to continue the story, I think it has some legs and could be a good novel, though it’s not entirely outlined. I am pretty sure I know where it ends, but I am not sure how it gets there. And that’s part of the fun. And even not knowing the end can be fun also (I’m looking at you George RR Martin!).

Self care is important. And this story coming to page is good self care. I’m enjoying seeing where this story goes. I hope, eventually, I’ll be able to share it here and you’ll get to see it go somewhere as well.

Anybody know a someone willing to edit FLR erotica?

Soft words

I am at times struck by how just a few softly spoken words can influence me. It happens all the time in my world. From the gentle (but rare) acknowledgment of a job well done at the office to a thank you for my volunteer efforts to the more personal words of my Mistress.

She will utter words that can easily sway where I am and what I’m thinking. Tonight it was just a few words which thrilled me to no end.

I was disrobing her by the closet, kneeling before her, helping her remove shirt, pajamas, panties, socks and she was faced away from me at the end – in the moment she became naked. I kissed her cheeks and tried to nuzzle my way in between her cheeks, but with her standing, I had a difficult time getting in to find her tiny tender spot between her cheeks. “Find it” she whispered hoarsely. “Find it pup!”

I am not sure if she realizes it, but when I was in the world of ski areas, the rescue dogs were trained to the words of “Find ’em!” when they were out looking for lost skiers – or drilling for the same. So her, my Mistress and owner, telling her pup to “Find it!” hit home to an older part of my timeline. I don’t think she knows that part.

She leaned forward slightly, opening herself up to my tongue, which soon found it’s mark and make shallow attempts at touching and cleaning their mark. “Deeper” she exhorted. “Get it in there deeper” My cock swelled quickly. Her hand reached behind her, grabbed my hair, pulled me into her ass and I did, indeed, get my tongue deeper. She did, indeed, need a cleaning before bed, and I think she knew that. She brought me to the place where she knows I enjoy things, left my cock to pulse and throb, all on its own, completely untouched.

Eventually, my cock subsided while I rubbed her back in bed. I’m not even sure she knew I was so erect, as she was simply too tired to be concerned about anything related to my pleasure or discomfort. I pet her to sleep, I withdrew from the room, I felt the wet spot left behind from my earlier arousal. And now, I’m wrapping gifts and getting us all ready for Christmas.

Busy times, but we make the time to have some joy.