Soothe My Troubled Soul

I am in the process of finding a new blog layout.  It just feels like there needs to be a glossier page sitting here.  I am going to adjust some things as a result too.  Most of the older writing (stories) will be pulled just because they feel stagnant at this point.  I will probably add one of the short stories that is out in print or at least link to the books if you want to see what is already out there.  I think I’m going to add a dedicated page (tab really) to writing, what I’m working on, solicitations for editors/preppers/honest feedback.  Then there will likely be a separate page dedicated to my BDSM life and desires.  Right now everything is just mixed up right now and I am feeling cluttered in my brain so I want to sort that out.  None of that has anything to do with what I opened the post tonight to write about.

I am randomly hearing songs that elicit lots of strong emotions from me.  Some make me feel sexy and sensual.  Others make me feel like I want to suck the life out of someone’s cum coated dick. And still others make me feel like I could ride off into the sunset on the freshly hardened aforementioned previously cum coated dick.  I can’t tell you what will set one of these emotional cascades in motion either.  Some of it will depend on my mood but I know a lot of it is very rhythm drum beat driven.  I mean for example there’s nothing wrong with Katy Perry’s (and Juicy J’s) Dark Horse and it does make me wiggle in my seat a bit when I hear it but it has yet to fully push me over into a different mindset.  Other songs hit my ear drums and it’s a pity and a shame no one is near me that can benefit from that rush of energy.  Gorilla by Bruno Mars sets me off every time especially when he hits the second chorus.  He’s very Prince like without trying to mimic Prince in the slightest.  He’s got a lot of good songs and I will bust a move on the treadmill if Treasure comes on but Gorilla makes me wet and horny.   Which is what Prince does to me a lot without really trying.  I’m HOPING that I can convince a former playmate or find a new one to molest after I catch Prince this summer.  I am a big ball of sexual energy after a concert anyway but Prince makes it worse. 

The vibrations from the speakers, the rhythm of the crowd, watching a man totally control a room of people with his voice and a guitar—all of it just makes me quiver like a tuning fork.  Tonight the song that set me off isn’t even one that’s even overtly sexy.  And I didn’t hear it until a few months ago even though it’s eons old at this point.  Alright by John Legend had me singing in my head at the gym and then blasting it on the rest of my errands.  As I was listening and singing loudly it started to push those other buttons because I let my brain slip into that happy space.

And by happy space I mean that area of my brain that acknowledges when I’m hungry.  I have eaten well the last few days so it’s not food that I want.  It’s a craving for fingertips to press into my flesh and leave bruises or sore spots because I am being roughly handled.  It’s a tiny ache to make contact with a masculine frame, inhale his scent, lick the salt from his skin and gulp up his nut.  It is a deep burning desire to hear my name moaned in delight, anticipation, and pride that I have outperformed even their greatest expectations.  It’s the place where my brain disconnects from the shoulds and the musts and the straight laced professional into an immoral, immodest, lustful, lecherous, lascivious, debauched woman that is always underneath the turtle neck sweaters and dress pants.  There is an addiction in my system for a strong man to take full advantage of my need to please, to feed my hunger and let me melt into his desire.

Since there is no one available to foot the bill I guess I will just enjoy naked weekend and daydream about my next meal.

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