Because it was my most popular post yesterday, and it’s worth reading a second time…
Sorry to all my non-straight readers who’ve been waiting for more smut. I must appeal to everybody, so this time it’s gonna be a him and her. 😉 Don’t worry, I’ll do more sometime…
Beth felt a hand slide up under her men’s t-shirt she always wore to bed. The callousness of his hand dragged across the skin of her breasts roughly, and the sensation drew her out of her sleepy haze. She stayed still, relishing the feeling of his touch; then she felt him slide down from his spot next to her until his head rested on her belly. He had told her once he could feel her heartbeat quicken when he rested there. She ran her fingers through his hair sleepily as he slid his arm underneath her, bringing his face closer to the spot between her thighs.
His lips brushed the sensitive spot on her inner thigh, and then her other…
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I suppose I am still Her, at least a little bit. That girl who blurbed on and on about mostly herself in all those previous posts that were so entertaining in a car-crash-sort-of-way. My biggest problem now is navigating WordPress’s new look. It has been many moons and a daylight savings time since I’ve thought much about my blog. Aye, me.
To say that I have the perfect baby would be a crude understatement. Yes, at least most mothers would say as much about their own spawn, but how many can actually say they are being honest when they say it? Of all the lies I will never admit I may have told in my life, this is not one of them. My Boy is the essence of everything good that is in me, and all the good that is not in me, too. He bears no hint of the darkness that resides in me, and is forever ready with a smile for anyone who pays him any mind. If there is any evil in him, it may only be heard in the demon shriek he has perfected, which he really only uses to entertain himself.
My life in other aspects is somewhat more bleak. In my previous post, I hinted of dissention in my relationship. ‘Tis not the stuff of beloved Rom-Coms these days, unless we are referring to the part in such movies where the lovers spat. Yes, it is safe to say that there is much spatting going on. Let’s just blame it all on the Rockstar’s Daughter.
Ok, it’s not entirely her fault, but I do believe her existence begets a black hole of exhaustion that sucks in everyone she comes in contact with. Even the dog is bone-weary. Ha. I made a joke there.
That being said, I felt the need to brief you all on the goings-on of your Bookwhore. I cannot say with any certainty that I will be back in any capacity closely resembling the former Me, but I have been feeling the need to once again take up my quill and write. (Something other than just my book, that is.)
Until We Meet Again,