That Morning After Feeling

I have just got out of a steaming hot shower, hot enough to be borderline scalding, with every single water jet out of the eight switched on and all set to high pressure. I love this house. I needed the shower, having walked Sweetie back to the station this morning, through the pouring rain. She looks good in white, especially when its wet, better when its dishevelled having just slipped into a garden en route to the station, in the rain. She'll probably get some odd looks on her way home That girl has a very enthusiastic tongue, soaked and with a few grass stains, but I refuse to accept the blame.

I love this feeling, I could almost say it is what I live for, though that would be an exaggeration. It is certainly better than any drug I have ever tried. Its that feeling you get after lots of good sex, where your bones ache in that gentle, humming way, the handful of bruises and scratches throb slightly, not painfully, just a faint tingle over the general ache. That lovely fog settles into your mind for a while and you can drift away into a little word of smugness and satisfaction. And yes, smugness, there's no better food for the confidence or ego than seeing the effect that the things you can do have on someone.

Knowing that they simply cannot have enough, that they will continue touching you, tasting you, feeling you, whispering at you, until they honestly cannot any more. Knowing that the reason that person is lying there, nearly biting through her sleeve, in a stranger's garden outside their deserted house, their body rising and falling madly as they scream into the rain, is because you have learned their body well enough that you know exactly how they will react when you put your mouth just there, and your tongue just there, and move it just right.

Obviously I have called in sick to work today, despite a certain someone's attempts to distract me while I was on the phone. She does have a very enthusiastic tongue. I am just hoping that my boss does not have any suspicions, because he is the sort who would ask.

The bruises might be difficult to explain as well. I may have to wear my hair down tomorrow, although that brings its own set of problems. Either that or I need to buy some concealer, and I would not even know where to start.


On a similar topic I have to say I have always been incredibly bad at keeping secrets when strangers ask me. I am the type who will tell people what they are getting for Christmas if they ask, though if I am not asked then usually I am fine. Unfortunately angel has asked me what it is that Sweetie does to leave me shivering, and one thing I have really never been able to resist is a pretty woman, as you may have guessed.

Anyway angel, in case you want to add this to your repertoire I cannot tell you if it will work on other people. It is actually very easy. When I am relaxed, all it takes to turn me into a quivering, moaning mass is such things as very light, stroking touches on almost any part of my body, arms, legs, face, chest, back, anywhere. All that is needed, is for the touches to be very, very light. After a few minutes I am literally helpless, barely able to move and certainly unable to think.

Another trick she has picked up about me is biting various places. Not light little nips, real, solid bites. She caught me by suprise with one of these during our first shower this morning, and I nearly knocked myself unconscious when my knees gave way as she did it and I ended up curled up on the shower floor for about a minute before I could stagger back to my feet. Actually this is something of an open secret, a lot of my friends know about it, and some of them take great delight, when they are bored, in grabbing my arms and biting the forearms to watch my eyes roll back in my head as I either fall over, or slowly slither off my chair.

That is all I am going to say for now, and it is more than I intended to say. Anything else is going to have to wait until I start to babble again, cannot think of another topic for a post, or get asked again.