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While I was Dreaming
Welcome to The Dreamery. There have been a few changes, but my blog is still simply a random series of Thoughts and fantasies, examining my past and my impossible future. Nothing on this blog is a lie. When I say nothing that follows is made up you can be sure it is the truth. Even the dreams are real dreams that I have had . And all the fantasies are my real fantasies.

There are however some questions which may never be answered:
Is it possible to actually laugh your arse off?
How sick is a parrot?
Are sandboys truly happy?
And just how mad is a box of frogs anyway?

And mostly, I do have it all in perspective!
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YOU are in my thoughts again
Posted:Jan 3, 2007 7:26 pm
Last Updated:Oct 2, 2009 3:56 am
She isn’t really quite awake yet as I touch my lips against hers. They are warm from sleep and she lets me kiss her without being fully aware what is going on. Is she dreaming? She stirs a little and her lips part….to breathe or to kiss back?

I let my tongue run over her lips and she parts them to let me in. Awake or dreaming she is kissing me now. As ever with her it is like a drug that starts my heart racing. Her body is hot against mine and I press my hardness against her. I want to be inside her while she is still in this dreamy state, half unconscious. I hold myself above her and bring her knee up to frame my hip. She is still wet from where I came inside her earlier, and I slip into her in one long slow thrust. If she is dreaming it has been a hot one because her hips rise to meet mine and she murmurs a little groan, partly of approval, but partly of arousal.

I am in that serene state where I am aroused but relaxed and I just let the sensations build for what seems like an age, but still her mind is half asleep. Her body is fully awake now though, and when I start to suck on her nipples they are hard and sensitive to my lips and teeth. She begins to grind her hips against me. Does she know she is doing this? It is a little unlike the way she does it when she is fully awake. She is trying to make her clitoris rub against me more. Gradually her body finds its way towards its goal. She drifts to orgasm on a kind of auto pilot, and gasps a sleep filled little gasp as she gets there. I love this and it makes me follow her ecstasy with my own once more flooding her body with mine.

Still it is as if she is asleep. I feel a glorious sense of permitted violation as I lie against her again, back where we started from some time ago when I first awoke. She stirs again turns her head a little and whispers,
“Mnnnn, so lovely. Go to sleep now Dreamer.” And I do.

Busty's game
Posted:Jan 2, 2007 4:01 am
Last Updated:Apr 5, 2011 3:17 am

Here is a game I am playing from Funflirty4u's blog, which she got from bustybettyboop's. I know just how dangerous busty's games can be because I saw the dare she gave willhe69you2 and I'm still waiting to see the resulting photograpgh! But I said I was in, so here goes!

Copy and paste the following onto your blog, then leave me a comment here, and then let the games begin. Here is how it works:

If you leave a comment, I will:

1. Respond with something random that I know or think I know about you.

2. I will tell you what song or movie or celebrity you remind me of.

3. If you are a female, I will tell you the most likely place that you and I will ever make out.

4. I will say something that only makes sense to you and me or at the very least make some something up that may give the other bloggers something to talk about.

5. I will tell you my first/clearest memory of you.

6. I will tell you what your name would be if you were the opposite gender.

7. I will ask you something that I have always wondered about you.

8. In order to play here you should be willing to post this yourself So please repost this in your Blog and......... Let the games begin ....
The Strange World of Coincidence
Posted:Dec 29, 2006 9:18 am
Last Updated:Apr 8, 2010 4:40 pm

There have been a lot of coincidences flying about recently.

Take this one for example. Just before Christmas I was driving to visit my sister, who lives on the Devon/Cornwall border. Anticipating bad traffic on the notorious A303 I took a compilation tape of some favourite tracks to play in the car. I had listened it through once and had just enjoyed "Move on up" by Curtis Mayfield for the second time when I thought rather than let the tape go on I would just check what was playing on the radio. I shut off the tape and guess what came on? Yup. "Move on up" !! What are the chances of that?! I don't know how often they play move on up on UK radio these days, but it's not often. Right at the beginning too!

I suppose there are how ever many millions of us in the world listening to tapes in our cars and so in fact this kind of thing must happen fairly often across the globe. But it felt weird!

The strangest thing which happened to me was not however a coincidence.

None of what follows is made up.

(Ah that's got you thinking this is going to be another of my long ago sexual exploits...but not this time!)

If it was not for the fact that I know it is impossible, I would stake my life that what I am about to describe happened exactly as I will tell it.

I used to work in a big office in London. One day I had been out for some reason, I can't remember what, and when I got back I walked through reception and into the lobby where there were three lifts. My office was on the fourth floor so I got into the middle lift and pressed the button. Then I remembered I had forgotten something, so at the top, without leaving the lift, I just pressed ground floor and went down again. The doors opened and I walked out into the lobby. Then I stopped dead in my tracks, spun round and stared open mouthed at the lifts I had just left. I had come out of the end lift.

It doesn't sound much, but I'm telling you, I know that I had got into the middle one. Obviously I wasn't concentrating on what was happening at the time, I didn't think about anything until I got out of the wrong one! I had just swapped lifts without moving! Now I know logically this CAN NOT have happened. And yet as I say, if I did not know it was impossible I would stake my life on it being true. I have no idea what actually happened.

So how often is something we are certain of in fact wrong?

Or do really weird things happen, but we dismiss them because we think they are impossible?
Secret Fantasy
Posted:Dec 27, 2006 3:25 pm
Last Updated:Jan 26, 2011 9:13 am

My fantasy is that you offer yourself to me as my secret plaything.

Your fantasy is that I accept.

I open the door and see you stiffen, but you do not turn round. The room is dark, but a little light is coming in through the bedroom window where you are standing, looking out at the early morning. You are not sure yet whether you are still dreaming, or if this is real.

A cool breeze is blowing the edges of the curtains that frame your face, silhouetted against the pale sky. Your hair is tied up in a bun at the back of your head, exposing your neck. I walk forward and say quietly,
"It's ok; it's me."
"Oh my God!"
They are the only words we will speak for the next half hour.
Still you do not turn around. This is our first meeting, and I know you are delaying making it finally real. I bend and fix my lips on the back of your neck, just where the big tendon joins the shoulder. Then I press my tongue firmly against your flesh, and slip my arms around your waist. Your hands close over mine. They are cold from the breeze, but I can feel the warmth of your body through the thin material of your dressing gown. Thin enough for me to feel there is nothing underneath.

My tongue and lips search all over your neck for the places I know will make your nerves scream for my touch. You are leaning back against me in complete surrender but still you do not turn round or speak. Then I pull your hair from its bun and let it fall over your shoulders. You pull the curtains together and the room is instantly dark. Then you turn. I realize that there is no tie on the dressing gown, that you had been holding it together, but now it hangs freely, and my eyes follow the valley between your breasts over your stomach and pubic mound to your thighs and knees beyond. I can make out no detail, only the outline of your shape. I am about to speak when you raise your arms around my neck and bring your lips up to meet mine. You taste cool and fresh, and your tongue is like a soft drug, sending a rush of heat straight through me.

I am about to slip my hands under the gown when I feel yours at my belt. You have unbuttoned me and dropped my jeans before I can think. I pull my double layer of T-shirt and rugby shirt over my head and stand in front of you naked, my hardening penis touching against the inside of your thigh. You have slipped the gown off your shoulders and now you are leading me towards the bed against the far wall of the room. I follow as if in a dream and you pull me towards you, covering us with the duvet as we lie down. The bed is still warm and I realize you had only just got up. Do you think you are still dreaming?

You pull me on top of you in the bed, and your fingers close over my hard penis. You touch its head between your legs and I feel the wetness and the heat. I know what you are doing but I can't believe it; perhaps it is me that is dreaming? There is a moment of pressure, then I am sliding in, a mass of sensations is clamouring for my attention, your lifted hips pressing against mine, your breasts against my chest, your tongue again between my lips and the indescribable warmth and feeling of enclosure on my penis. You have broken the kiss and your lips are on my neck now, highlighting each nerve ending with your tongue. At the same time you are squeezing me inside you, almost milking me. Your hands are on my hips and you begin to make rising and falling motions with them. You are asking me to fuck you. I withdraw a little and then begin to thrust gently but firmly.

All the talk, the writing and the understanding has been leading to this. There will be time for foreplay later you are saying. First let me just have you inside me. It is so erotic that I feel myself beginning to come. Somehow you know this and hold me even tighter in until the explosion hits me and I fill you with my cum, the ultimate expression of trust between us. It feels wonderful. You look into my eyes again and lie back - you look completely satisfied.

I will find out later just what it takes to really satisfy you. For now we will sleep a little more, before we wake to greet each other in the morning.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Posted:Dec 20, 2006 6:28 am
Last Updated:Dec 18, 2008 2:48 am

This should have been a new post, but as I was leaving the site was having problems and I could not enter a new post. So I edited my last post, and of course the first lot of comments all relate to that! Hope this isn't too confusing!

It’s Christmas, and I’m off to stay with my sister and her husband and my two lovely nieces today. Then I will be away over the holidays and probably not back on line until the New Year. So I just want to say hi, and thanks for being there to some of my Blog Friends:
You speak to me in a language I don’t always understand, but it’s fascinating and I love trying to figure it out. Looking forward to the next instalment.

The most encouraging of all my commenters, I always look forward to seeing what you think of my posts, and you always seem to get the point. You inspire me to better blogging. By the way I’ve been meaning to ask you something. In your photograph, had somebody just given you a nasty surprise!? Without the rest of your face it looks to me as if something has just startled you and you’re not very happy about it! (AHhhhhh! It’s a time warp! THAT’S where I’d asked you that question before. Laughing out LOUD! I was doing this in anticipation of the Christmas break, and I’d forgotten I hadn’t posted it yet!” I know the answer to that now. Looking forward to talking to you again in the New Year.

You have been such a good friend, where would I have wandered off to without you? I hope I have not been too demanding. Get that barbie on girl and have a great Christmas. Get Cheeks to give you a nose bleed for me!

We have a very special connection, you understood something I told you even before I understood it myself! I wish you all happiness as you travel, you probably won’t read this until some time in January if you ever read it at all, but I hope we can renew our friendship when we are both back on line.

You were the first one to make me open up my box of fantasies, which has been such a release for me. I hope there are some huge storms on their way to Oklahoma for you, and that your car, and other things, start to be more reliable. I look forward to a weather update when I get back!

Funflirty; Stormyonegood, Florallei, PSD,
You guys are always out there keeping me interested, it’s such fun to visit your blogs. I can’t think how I am going to find the time to catch up with all you will have posted on them over the next couple of weeks.

What a kind and thoughtful friend you are. I hope the holiday period will turn out to be fun and refreshing for you, without too much family hassle! I’ll be thinking of you, wishing you well.

The source of so much genuine hilarity for me, and a real gentleman. I love your blog, and I love the way you take an interest in mine and post links sending all of these lovely girls to visit me. I know you are a year younger than me, but I think of you as my big brother on AdultFriendFinder.

My first buddy. I value and respect your friendship more than you might realize, and partly for a reason you will probably never know about. (God that’s more of a riddle than some of your games!) So good to know Bucky is looking after you. See you in the New Year.

You were the first person to befriend me on the site, and we have shared a lot with each other. And you prove how well you understand my emotions with your insights like: “To have loved is priceless, even though the memories burn in your heart for ever….”
Thank you so much for your friendship.

Wow are you Sweet’n’Wild! We don’t see you over here that often, but if you are stopping by, can I just say thanks for your friendship and for writing so scorchingly hot!!

Oh no sorry, she doesn’t actually exist does she.....

Everyone Else,
All of you who visit my blog from time to time,

Have a great Christmas, and I’ll see you all in the New Year

Song for the day: Driving home for Christmas, by Chris Rea
World Orgasm for Peace
Posted:Dec 19, 2006 9:01 am
Last Updated:Dec 29, 2006 7:05 am

I found this on kisskiss6868's blog a little while ago, Here's something totally bizarre and although it attracted a few comments, I thought it should have generated a bit more enthusiasm. If you would like to Kisskiss's original post on your blogs the link is post 605752. Why not publicise this widely, and let's all ORGASM FOR PEACE!

SAN FRANCISCO Two peace activists have planned a massive
anti-war demonstration for the first day of winter. But
they don't want you marching in the streets. They'd much
rather you just stay home. The Global Orgasm for Peace was
conceived by Donna Sheehan, 76, and Paul Reffell, 55, whose
immodest goal is for everyone in the world to have an orgasm
Dec. 22 while focusing on world peace. "The orgasm gives out
an incredible feeling of peace during it and after it,"
Reffell said Sunday. "Your mind is like a blank. It's like a
meditative state. And mass meditations have been shown to make a change." The couple are no strangers to sex and social
activism. Sheehan, no relation to anti-war activist Cindy
Sheehan, brought together nearly 50 women in 2002 who stripped naked and spelled out the word "Peace." By promoting what they
hope to be a synchronized global orgasm, they hope to get
people to channel their sexual energy into something more
positive. "The dream is to have everyone in the world (take
part)," Reffell said. "And if that means laying down your gun
for a few minutes, then hey, all the better."

Well I'm not going to say I actually think this would make any difference at all, but it can't do any harm, can it?

I think it might be rather exciting to think all our blogger friends were out there doing their bit for world peace, in unison. There is no specific time suggested on the original report though but I would like to suggest 2300 hours GMT, that would make it a nice afternoon interlude in America, some time after breakfast for you Kissu and PSD!

If we all do it together do you think it might be like all the Chinese jumping up and down at once; we could really make the earth move!
Sometimes it is You
Posted:Dec 18, 2006 3:21 pm
Last Updated:Feb 18, 2013 12:18 pm

I spend the evening checking out a few blogs. An email comes from a blog-world friend and we discuss life, the universe and everything. I go to bed alone. The sheets feel cool and soft against my arms and between my legs. My eyes close and there, inside my head, someone is with me. She has bright, questioning eyes, soft skin, and warm sensuous lips.

Sometimes it is you.

I never know who it is going to be. I can not control that. It has been my silky blonde, and it has been my amorous flower . Sometimes it might be perfectsmile4u, it could be annawantsu2, and sometimes it is you. Tonight it is you and I hold you close, feeling your fragile bones in my strong arms. You lie half against me and run your hands over my skin. You whisper in my ear.
“I’m glad it’s me tonight,” your voice sounds breathy; incredibly sexy. Because you are my fantasy you want me in a way that only a woman who has her own fantasy can. I know that somewhere you are in your own bed, and that in your head I am with you too. Your room is quiet. Or maybe there’s a faint, vibrating buzz in the background. But mostly I think you just lie back, lick your middle finger and think of me.

That’s how you get into my head, and now, as I said, you are lying next to me under my right arm. Your hair covers my shoulder and you run your hands over my skin. Or is that my hands over your skin? I gently scratch the fingernails of my right hand along your spine and you murmur something and slide your knee up across the hard muscles of my thighs. Your leg is soft and smooth and hot, and I feel a ruff of pubic hair against my hip as you rub yourself gently against me. Your breast is against my ribs. I take your nipple between my thumb and the first finger of my left hand and squeeze it gently. Your whole body stiffens. Or is that my body? I twist and release then twist and release again knowing exactly what you are feeling because I am feeling it too. We both know what is going to happen. It is as if our minds are one. In a way they are, because you are there in my head.

I imagine that in the quiet of your room your middle finger is doing its work, made slippery now by the wetness between your legs, the same wetness I can feel hot against my hip. You are rubbing steadily with long slow stokes, soft but firm. My cock is stiffening against your stomach, and you reach your free hand down and curl your delicate fingers around my shaft. Your thumb rubs at the sensitive skin just below the tip, smoothing in a tiny drop of pre-cum. I am fully hard now and try to relax and let you work on me as only you know how, rather than straining and stiffening all my muscles, tempting though that is. It is dark inside my room and my eyes are closed, and yet I can see your wicked smile, the curve of your body and your gorgeous eyes.

Your hand slides up and down my cock while your finger keeps rubbing your own clit at the same time. You know you are going to make us come. I am watching the stiff dark bud of your nipple as I squeeze it between my finger and thumb, I am watching the rise and fall of your stomach as your breath begins to come faster. Or is that my breath? I can hear you in my head moaning, gasping, beginning your orgasm as you lie against my side. Then I am coming too, spurts of cum slap hot against your belly and run across my hip, hot against our skin, slippery under your fingers. You have pushed two fingers deep inside yourself, (your fingers, my fingers, our fingers,) and you ride them through a long, satisfying orgasm, sliding your body over the wet cum between us, intertwining your soft shaved legs with mine, feeling the rough hair of my legs between your soft thighs.
All the time I am looking at your beautiful face, wondering how it is you can be here, glad that tonight it is you. Your features soften into a warm smile, and you press yourself against me. We talk, we understand each other so well. Before long our minds begin to drift, we find it difficult to keep focused on each other. Finally we sleep.

But in that sleep, what dreams may come?
I Nearly Had a Date With Liz Hurley!
Posted:Dec 16, 2006 9:26 am
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2016 1:43 am
Years ago around about the time when Liz Hurley split up with Hugh Grant, I read in the newspaper or somewhere that she had been hiding out at her mother’s house in a small Hampshire Village, and the locals had got fed up with the paparazzi hanging round the village trying to get photographs. The name of the village was rather familiar. It was where my mother lived!

That weekend I was over having tea at my mother’s house and I mentioned this story to her but she didn’t seem to know who I was talking about. Then after a few moments she suddenly brightened up and said,
“Oh you must mean Elizabeth, Mrs Hurley’s . Oh that was a while ago now, but it sounded like a terrible business, she was involved in a bit of a scandal, some young chap treated her very badly apparently.”
I smiled, it was soooo Hampshire Village!
Then my mother gave me a surprise.
“Yes, I felt sorry for her,” she went on, “in fact her mother asked me if I knew any nice men around her age who might like to take her out and get her mind off him, you know.”

I was single at the time so I had to ask: “What did you say?”
“Well I said no......Oooh, I didn’t think of you dear.......Who is Liz Hurley anyway, she doesn’t sound very nice!”

So a lucky escape then maybe!?
Inanimate Objects are out to Get Me!
Posted:Dec 15, 2006 2:39 am
Last Updated:Jan 15, 2007 9:20 am

Do you have a problem with inanimate objects? Once upon a time I used to be pretty fiery even with people sometimes but these days I’m a lot more tolerant and laid back. But bastard inanimate objects can really get me going.
Phrases like, “that’ll teach you, you little bugger,” to a pot plant which fell off the table,
And “Fuck off!” at the top of my voice to a bread knife which stabbed me in the palm of the hand are recent examples!

I laugh at myself for this most of the time, and usually it’s fairly tongue in cheek, but every now and again I temporarily lose it completely in a way I never would with a person.
One time I told my computer in menacing tones that if it didn’t sort itself out and work properly right now I was going to trash it and get a new one, yelling “and I fucking well mean it!” Bizarrely that worked and it has given me no further trouble!
Also, I HATE IT when I can’t find something. I work on the basis of always storing things where I would first look for them, but if something gets lost, usually at bed time or when I’m just about to go out, I just CAN’T let it go. (Oooh, I see a parallel here, lost something, can’t let it go, never thought of that before…. whoops!)
I just have to keep looking till I find it, getting more and more frustrated by how unfair it all is as I tear round the house looking! Mostly these things only happen when I’m very tired, and I soon calm down. Perhaps it’s because I live alone; no one is there to see me having a tantrum, so I think I can get away with it.

Oddly enough I have no road rage though, I’m glad to say. People do stupid things ‒ I just smile and get out of their way. You first, no problem and a cheery wave. Someone gives me the finger? I just cruise on by calmly!

How do you guys deal with those little bastard things which jump off the shelf or wilfully tangle themselves up just when you haven’t got time to pay attention to them!? Serene and unruffled, or swearing and stamping!? Which inanimate objects have got it in for you?
Song for the day: "Mr Soft" - Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel
Another Sonnet: Paradise Found
Posted:Dec 14, 2006 5:06 am
Last Updated:Jan 26, 2011 9:12 am

I promised poetry for this post and I did have something lined up, but that will have to wait because I got a dare from bustybettyboop who has a truth or dare game going on in honour of partygirl at post I'VE BEEN THINKING OF . She told me to write an erotic poem and post it on yourdesires1970's blog and this is it. I was inspired by her description of a paradise meadow at [post 627487], and wanted to show it to you guys. This one was written this morning, rather than taking the usual fifteen years!

Paradise Found

In this cool meadow grows a deeper heat,
A passion burns within two bodies twined.
They sway like twisting stems of standing wheat,
Then fall and seek the place all lovers find.
Tall grasses hide them, flowers frame her face,
Her curves half shaded by a leafy bough.
Spurred on by questing lips, their pulses race,
Nothing exists but them; their need is now.
Wind tugs her clothing, helps him lift her dress,
She gasps as every touch excites her skin.
Sun warms the breasts his fingertips caress;
Surrendering herself she pulls him in.
He fills her and their passion is complete
Found in this Paradise where lovers meet.
Half My Blog-Post Disappeared!
Posted:Dec 13, 2006 8:30 am
Last Updated:Jan 15, 2007 9:23 am

If anyone was just reading the previous Stormlover post and didn't get to the erotic bit then that's because it mysteriously disappeared, and I've only just noticed! On the other hand if you don't like the erotic bits then you've been spared because you missed it! Don't worry, poetry next for those who prefer not to delve into the damp recesses of my frustrated mind. For those that do, it's back now if you want to see what happens.
Going to see Stormlover - More Fantasy
Posted:Dec 12, 2006 1:48 pm
Last Updated:Jan 15, 2007 9:36 am

This story follows on from Storm Lover A Fantasy, Stormlover A Fantasy, Continued and Stormlover's Fantasy Continues, although strictly speaking it is the prequel to the last of these. I didn’t post it at the time for a number of reasons and then it got forgotten about. I wanted a bit of light relief after the traumas of the last few days, and originally I was going to go with a little story about how I nearly went out with Liz Hurley once, (Rose, you know all about that!) but then I decided another dose of erotica was required just to keep some of your pulses racing!

Stormlover is a character born in my imagination, but was also based on aspects of someone on AdultFriendFinder. Those of you who have been following my blog will probably have formed the impression that I am a bit of an AdultFriendFinder virgin compared to many of you. I have not yet even met anyone from the site. It may be that I never do. (Although there has already been more than one who has made my pulse quicken!) One reason for this is the power of my imagination. I am only too well aware that I tend, if I am not careful, to start to fill in the blanks in the personality of someone with perfect traits I have imagined.

So I dreamed Stormlover as I wanted her to be even though technically she was loosly based on a real person. So in the first story she was my perfect lover and we clicked instantly. But it occurred to me that if Stormlover was actually someone on AdultFriendFinder, then if we ever met, I could get a diffiicult surprise. So this story was originally intended as another kind of cautionary tale, as in Cautionary Tale or Perfect Match - but as I wrote it, it took on a life of its own and headed off where it wanted to go. Which is a pleasant way to write I think.

“Stormlover is only a fantasy” was something I had been saying to myself over and over on the plane. You have created her in your mind as the perfect lover, no real person can live up to that, I kept reminding myself. I repeated the mantra on the train journey east after landing at the airport. But I was shocked by my almost cold response when I walked onto the platform at the station and saw her, standing waiting. It wasn’t that she looked different, but my reaction to her wasn’t right. Despite my warning to myself I was expecting to be instantly close to her. A startled look passed across her face when she saw me. It was only then that the devastating truth hit me: I am not her “Dreamer,” either.
She greeted me using my own name, I called her by hers; it sounded strange. I had an overnight bag with me ‒ it was ridiculous, what the hell was I doing there? Neither of us knew what to say.

“I’ve made you dinner,” she said, “up at the cabin.” It was a simple attempt to break the ice.
“I thought you lived in the town,” I questioned.
“I do, but my aunt has a cabin in the hills, she doesn’t use it anymore. I thought it would be…..better.”
More romantic I thought to myself ironically, but I didn’t say anything; we were both struggling. Dinner would be good.

She drove half an hour to the cabin, daylight was fading, it was cold, and the sky hung dark with snow clouds. I asked her about the scenery; we crossed what looked like a big river, but she said it was just a tributary of the main stream. The name she gave it sounded strange. At least we were talking, but it was like meeting a tour guide for the first time. And yet, there was something…..I couldn’t put my finger on it yet.

The cabin, what I could see of it, was beautiful. Set on the edge of a wood, looking down to the river valley. Smoke was rising from a chimney. We got out of the car and she walked up to the door. A few snow flakes were falling. I walked inside and instantly felt more at home. There was the smell of chicken cooking and a woodburner glowing over at the far end of the room. She went to the burner and opened the vents. The glow intensified and then flames burst back into life.

“Can you throw a couple logs on,” she asked, “I’ll just go check on dinner.” She opened a door and when the light went on I could see through to a simple kitchen with an old-fashioned range against one wall. I opened the woodburning stove and put in two logs from a huge stack next to it, then shut the door.
“We’d better build it up, it’s going to be cold tonight, and it heats the water,” came from the kitchen.

There was a wooden table in the middle of the room and a heavy old sofa in front of the fire. The table had plates, cutlery and two glasses on it. She came in with a bottle and picked up a glass from the table.
“How about some wine,” she said smiling. I remembered her fantasies always involved sharing a bottle of wine.
“Lovely,” I said. I was tired through. I had been travelling over twelve hours. Wine would send me to sleep, but what the hell.
She poured wine for both of us and went back to the kitchen, returning with a huge casserole dish which she placed on the table. She served bowls of some kind of chicken stew, it tasted fabulous and very different. We ate in silence, but all the time she was looking at me. Her dark eyes held a question, but there was half a smile on her face. I began to recognise something in her.
“Tell me some more about your life,” she coaxed me. And I began to talk. We drank the wine and I forgot where we were, and who I was. We talked about living in small town America, and we talked about living in Home Counties England, and the world became a smaller place. And all the time that half smile.
She seemed to be looking right into me; searching for something. We sat on the floor and leaned back against the sofa. Her face looked even more beautiful in the light from the fire. She leant her head against my shoulder and I closed my eyes. I felt happier, but terribly tired. I must have slept for a while because when I awoke the fire was just a faint glow of embers, the plates had been cleared, and she was gone. For a moment I nearly panicked. Then I saw the note on the floor next to me.
It said “Bathroom, through door, bedroom - through bathroom……Stormlover.”
My heart began to beat faster, but at first I didn’t realise why. I picked up my bag and walked into the bathroom. I washed, cleaned my teeth and opened the connecting door. Then I worked it out. Only one bedroom.

I switched off the bathroom light. It was pitch dark. I had already taken off my clothes to wash. Not giving myself time to think I felt my way to the bed and slipped into it. My heart was pounding but Stormlover didn’t stir…. Stormlover!
I moved my head across the pillow. I could smell her hair and her neck beside me. I breathed deeply and at last desire flooded through me. Was I allowed to be doing this? As if in answer she turned slightly, put her arm across my chest and lay half against me, my arm trapped under her body. She slid her thigh over my leg. Her body was roasting hot. My hand was against her stomach, but my fingers were under her hip. I let them brush against her. She moved her knee a little, wriggling her body closer to mine. I felt a light brush of trimmed hair against my thumb. I ran my finger up the inside of her thigh.
“Mmmnn,” murmured Stormlover.
I touched against the hollow between her hip and the top of her thigh. She put her face against my neck and took a long slow breath.
“Don’t stop,” she sighed, and so I didn’t stop. For a long time she lay there passively, half asleep as my fingers gently teased the skin of her inner thigh, her hip, her pubic fur. Then at last I let a finger stray between her legs. Her lips were soaking wet. A little gasp told me she was still awake. I hooked my finger a little and felt for her clitoris. It was hard under my finger and I stroked it softly and slowly, round and round, up and down, with a gently undulating pressure.
“Uhhnnnnm,” She breathed, and, as I turned my head I found her lips touching mine in the dark. I had never kissed her before. It was the softest kiss I have ever felt. Her lips were warm from sleep, her tongue caressed mine slowly and then her lips drifted to find the hollow between my neck and shoulder, as delicate as a silk scarf on my skin. I put my other hand behind her neck and brought her lips back to mine, drinking in her kiss. It made my head spin like a big gulp of warm wine. All the while my fingers continued their gentle undulating pressure.
“A little harder now,” she whispered after a while, and then, “A little faster.”
She put her knee astride me then, kissing me harder, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. She was slowly riding my fingers, balanced over me, her hands either side of my head and her hair covering my face. I pulled a breast to my mouth and sucked hard on the nipple; she rewarded me with a little cry of pleasure. Her breathing was fast but her movements were still slow. Then she put her lips to my ear and whispered,
“I’m coming now Dreamer, It feels so good.”
And I felt it through her; her back arched, she gasped, and then wrapped her arms around me, burying my fingers deep inside her and clasping her legs together. My cock was hard against her belly as she twitched and heaved. Then she lay still. But before I could wonder what would happen next she slid away from me and wrapped her fingers round my hard cock. She rubbed her thumb against the underside just behind the head.
I was groaning now.
My moans seemed to renew her passion, and she straddled me again, rubbing my cock against her, and then suddenly slipping it inside her.
“Aaaaaah,” we both said at once, as she lifted her hips and then slid me deep into her, holding me there for a few seconds before repeating the same movement again. I could feel the friction of her beautiful inner skin all the way out and all the way in. The room was totally dark. I could sense nothing but what I could feel, smell and hear. But those senses were sending so many messages to my brain I was almost in overload. I could feel a charge growing between my thighs. She kissed me again, then whispered in my ear,
“You’ll be coming soon, come for your Stormlover.”
Without warning she pulled herself off me, and I wondered what was happening, then I felt her lips replace her pussy around my cock. She pressed her tongue against the underside and slid me deep into her mouth. It was electrifying. Immediately I felt the first swelling thrill of my approaching orgasm. She led me there slowly, carefully building me up until at last I went over the edge, wave on wave of sensation poured through me as I shot more and more come into her mouth. She sucked it all out of me as if she had hungered for it all the time I had longed to be with her. She kissed me again, and then lay down against me as we both drifted away into a deep contented sleep.

Daylight was filtering through a curtain when I woke. Stormlover reached out a hand and pulled it aside. I propped myself up on my elbow. Outside, everything was white. The trees hung heavy with snow, and big flakes were still falling. Stormlover looked at me.
“Are you ok now?” she asked, her soft eyes bright with happiness.
“Much better thanks,” I said with a smile. She looked back outside at the snow.
“How long can you stay for?”……….
Distance and Commitment, Part Two
Posted:Dec 11, 2006 6:00 pm
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2008 3:58 am

There were a lot of comments on my first post under this title, some were very thought provoking and I wanted to develop this theme a little more.

In my first post I had wondered if true commitment, (and by that I mean intended life-long commitment) is the province of the young, or the fearful. The young because they have not yet seen that even a love you both truly believe in can fail for a variety of reasons, and the fearful because they are trying to avoid a break up by simply promising each other they will stay together. Mostly this just does not work.

It occurred to me that maybe people deal with this problem in a different way depending on what it is they fear most. You see for me, even though like everyone else I do not want to get hurt, I have learned not to live in fear of it. Your lover can be taken from you by illness or a car accident just as easily as they can by breaking a vow. So I know no amount of commitment can protect me from that pain. But the pain I think I fear, is of having to be the one to end a relationship myself. In the past I have usually been dumped rather than doing the dumping. I have a chronic inability to say "this relationship isn't working anymore" to someone I have loved.

It is said that this is common in men (other than ruthless “players.” Men are notorious for behaving badly in a failing relationship (usually sub-consciously) in order to prompt our partners to do the dumping so that it will not be our responsibility and we won’t feel guilty. We may prefer some emotional distance in our relationships and try to avoid being asked for commitment so as to avoid the pain of being responsible for its failure. We fear being trapped more than we fear rejection. On the other hand if what you fear most is being dumped, you are more likely to ask for a commitment. You are trying to make sure that what you fear cannot happen.

On the other hand it could be argued that a relationship with distance is no more than the next stage along from “no-strings” relationships. I think people get scared because most have had the experience of someone clinging to them and needing more than they want to give emotionally. Therefore they say "no Strings" as a kind of get out clause to absolve them of the guilt they expect to feel when they decide they do not want to care about the other persons feelings any more. In fact I think as soon as you involve yourself with another person in whatever way you must take some responsibility for how your actions may affect them. But this applies just as much to wanting too much commitment from them as it does to wanting to maintain too much distance. I do not think there is any justification for thinking commitment is a laudable goal whereas distance is in some way reprehensible; it is understanding why each is preferred by respective partners which will help to bring about harmony.

I do think it is possible to have a genuine loving relationship with someone far away, especially with modern communication technology. Physical distance is surely a better way of achieving emotional distance than say only having affairs with married partners or simply refusing to engage emotionally at all. Some people need to keep an emotional distance from a partner or they feel trapped, even though they do truly love them. Others may be always seeking signs of commitment from partners they do not even love. Both these traits may be less than ideal, but I was trying to examine why people so often behave this way.

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