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I bought a Desire journal.
Hardbound with a little lock and key. Delicious paper with
quotes like "Soon she won't object to fingers that stray
under her skirt-hem and linger at her lightly knotted waistband;
when her eyes are dreamy and her breathing's harsh, send the
servants away". - Kama Sutra. And "Then he bagan to
work in and out, and soon sent a sweet rivulet into the shrine
of Venus. I also felt unspeakable delight and nearly fainted
with lust" - Aloysia Sigea
Wonder what I should write about in it. *wicked smile*
I bought it a few months ago and haven't started it. It's
not for lack of ideas, lords know I have plenty of them. It's
more of a 'where do I start' and 'who do I start with' problem.
Ray isn't much in there. I guess because the last time we
were together it lasted the length of a commerical break. After
a while, a girl gets tired of rejection and preditability when
she does get some.
And George, he's no where in there and has been banished from
my fantasies until further notice. It's hard to get all hot and
bothered with a guy who will one moment, tell me how perfect
and wonderful and beautiful Mary is and how he wishes she would
dump her long distance boyfriend and go out with him and in the
same breath ask if all of my sexual needs are being met and if
I need him to help get those needs taken care of. Well, telling
me how perfect and wonderful and beautiful I
am would be an excellent start.
R. isn't on the list either. But the fact that he's the only
guy who can ask me to masterbate over the phone for him and sound
completely sweet and innocent about it does hold a special place
in my heart.
Eric the delivery guy and the sexy COO have been my mental
boy toys of late.
Everywhere Eric I call him. Not so much because of his job
but because everywhere is where I want him to touch me. Broad
shoulders that taper down to a narrow waist and slim hips, he's
dangerous and safe at the same time.
Then there are the random guys, like the very handsome well
dressed man at the strip club. I envied the hips he touched as
he tipped the dancer. And the swarthy guy selling cell phones
at the mall. Eyes the color of dark honey. His dark skin as clear
and beautiful as a cup of coffee with cream. I want to put my
lips to his neck and take a sip.
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