Not safe for most workplaces. Age 18+. Scarleteen is great for under 18.
So as I get this post ready, I haven't even opened my file yet; another author talked about having multiple files open because she's struggling with mental health too. I've been failing to connect to "Typing My Love," so I'm going to take a break from it and open up "Laura Learns"- the ageplay "week" from my planned trilogy with Jack and Laura. Not sure what I'll share just yet, but I found in the midst of adjusting to an anti-depressant, I hadn't managed to post on my site at all since Feburary 21st for this hop.
Then I opened the file, took the word count (I'm taking part in a writing challenge), and picked some to share with you all before I hopefully start writing. I'm sharing from a chapter of "Laura Learns" where Laura and Jack are at a dinner party where everyone is in some kind of BDSM role.
Laura turned a page in the paperback she'd found in a pile of books; she felt a giggle tickling the back of her throat. I'm already thinking of Jack's home as my home. Well we are engaged. She watched Chris rolling on the floor, his nearness to John giving her a chance to glance at the naked man without being too obvious. I'm so glad ageplay at my age doesn't allow for so much nudity.
"Ple, ple, book!" Chris gurgled at her feet.
"No, little boy. You tried to bite it," Laura scolded.
"Saawwy!" Chris batted his eyelashes at her.
Nadia sat on the couch beside Laura. "Whatcha reading?"
"Black Beauty. I just love horses," Laura gushed, grateful for the chance to talk in role.
"Would you like to see my model horse collection?" Nadia smiled.
Laura scratched her nose. "I should ask my Father. Didn't you say dinner would be ready soon, ma'am?"
Nadia grimaced. Whispering, she said, "Sorry. I know it's in role for you, but being ma'am'd makes me feel squiggly."
Whispering as well, Laura asked, "We didn't really discuss respect language for adults. Is there something other than ma'am that you'd like?"
"Not sure there is something. Any other title used for femmes tends to be icky to me, for me. Thank goodness you're normally a sub like me."
Jack and Tonya joined them in the living room then.
Standing in front of them, Jack asked, "So Nadia, how much longer to dinner?"
"Ten minutes, sir. Might I ask for Laura if I can show her my model horse collection before dinner? When I offered to show it to her, she was a good girl and said she'd have to ask you, sir."
Jack nodded. "Thanks for offering to show her." He glanced at Laura. "No wondering off from Nadia's side."
"Yes, Sir," Laura murmured. She handed the paperback to him before getting up from the couch and following after Nadia. Not sure how I should present as a ten-year-old of a strict father, but I do like him in role. I'm not sure about my own role though.
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So, it's been weeks since I did this hop; it's been almost a month since I saw a psychiatrist as I'm writing this. I've been struggling to start writing before 10:30pm, even though I'm taking part in a writing challenge. The good thing about the medication is that it doesn't seem to have any sexual side effects, but that equally says I've made a habit of not writing in my depression and I can't seem to undo that habit. Well, I'm trying; I'm starting to write the sexy part at 6:12pm. It's a start. :D Audrey's in purple...
New boots. Few things make me as happy as new boots. Even with fishnet stockings on, I've still put talcum powder in the feet part to help with breaking them in. The laces press pleasantly into my shins then knees then thighs as I tighten them. After the second boot is on me, laces tightened, I let my hair fall from the clip so it half hides my face.
Do the boots and fishnets balance out the hair style in terms of gender presentation?
It's been a long time, sweet Audrey, since you asked what my gender is when I'm making love to you.
I've been trying to get your attention since you had fun with your hair, love. The boots look good on you; remember to call your therapist back.
Killjoy! You're supposed to be helping me write something sexy. Come here.
And do what? Let me bend you over and pull these tights down a bit. Yup, I agree with Shaman. You have a damn fine ass that I just love to grab. Are you feeling gendered now? Or are you feeling too needy of my touch to care? Tell me what you want, little love.
Has it been so long that my yes, our relationship isn't enough? Or are you feeling too mentally greedy for my words? Because your nails are just long enough to trace over my labia, between them, over my clit. Did you think to tease me with Onyx's aftercare blanket folded on your luscious bed?
Yes, love. I do love your body shining as with your psychiatric medication and heading toward menopause. Now who'd think that was sexy? Though with you loving my 69-year-old self? Look up at the screen of my thoughts as I part your lips with the tip of my tongue. You don't want other words for body parts?
Nah. I'm just naming a sense that was always there. Well, maybe. You mind “bound clitorophallus” for me to read, hear, think the word about my own body?
Sure, let me trace the hood of your bound clitorophallus, let me tease that erect clit as it fills with more blood. I love the way your thighs tense, first to keep your legs apart, then to keep my head right where it is. It's too long; will you come fast for me, love? Letting my hands slip down these boots, these stockings on your beautiful legs is leading me to my own pleasure.
Yes, yes! Need your tongue inside me, please. Let it slide into my cunt. Yes! I can't control my thigh muscles anymore, love. Your touch feels beyond amazing. Like that, just like that. I love feeling your tongue swirl around inside me, pushing my orgasm to continue. A gasp and groan in one escapes my lips only to be smothered by Onyx's blanket as you grab my hips to pull me up onto the bed, my knees pressing into the softness.
My cock slides into your wet pussy, my balls swinging forward to tap your lips, your bound clitorophallus. Your muscles squeeze so I wait a moment, my unbound clitorophallus to the root inside your sweetness. The black constriction of your boots makes me worry a moment about coming too fast; I wanna feel you come when my cock's inside you at least once. I reach forward to brush your hair to the side so I can see your eye, your parted lips. Moan for me, love.
I can't hold back my rippling pleasure as you start a slow withdrawal and thrust. Practicing belly dance blips on my mind's screen before I can only think on you joined with me. Coming, love. Can you feel it? You feel so good.
That's my girl. Ha, my. Let's recast the my's and say vanilla can be my too. Can we say that my is plural, like you and you? Because my is we and we're both feeling good. I can't hold back too much longer. You feel so good and vanilla lovemaking with you always seems so short since we don't have the foreplay or the other play of BDSM interaction.
But you know I love to watch you with your subs, even if I don't take part in that way? God, yes, like that, just like that. You gonna fill me? Please fill me. Find your pleasure too.
You're just liking I can see your thoughts since your mouth's producing babble. Yes, angel girl, I'm coming in your cunt. Fuck, yeah. Here you go over, I'm gonna lick you clean so my cum doesn't drip on those boots. Come for me again, my tongue pushing into your cunt?
Yeah, yeah. Love you. Gods, yeah, how you make me keep coming!
Love you, babe. Ready to sleep?
Ready to sleep.
Sorry I've been distant. Still recovering from a bad depression and finally getting in to see a psychiatrist. I had to test a text color thing for tomorrow's blog post. I'm doing #MasturbationMonday tomorrow. Woot! I am slowly working on "Typing My Love"- started during Nanowrimo 2017; I'm thinking to do Camp Nano in April so I have it and Maren Smith's 100 Day Writing Challenge to encourage writing.
I came out as non-binary, agender! Well, I've figured agender also feels right, but the reality that I'm non-binary came first. I need to put together the two parts of a vlog showing my hair transition. Hopefully I get about that soon.