A stolen afternoon. The air heavy with autumn and sleepy dreaminess. The half dark of a curtained room. Unexpected. The slow unbuttoning of a crisp white shirt. A tempting line of lace. Laughter. The careful, studied curve of a collarbone. A trace of lips. Of finger tips. Ley lines of luminous telepathy. Kisses softer than breath. Softer than smoke. Built with premeditated anticipation. Curled around smiles and closed eyes. The unhurried line of shadow and skin. Languid. The hours marked only by touch and the moving of the green lit sun. Until the light grows soft. And then dark. And streetlight filters through the quiet.
18
Apr
08
Umm…I have been visiting, but some java scripting thingy issue seems do dislike commenting on wordpress. Sometimes it works, most times not, so ofen in frustration I just lurk. Kinda depends if I’m in the office or not.
Apparently it was nice almost meeting you at the SA Blog Awards!
Hahahah….
Now that last comment took 6 tries to post. Thank f.. I copied the comment!
It keep telling me I’m posting to fast ..WTF?
Curse you, woman! How am I supposed to concentrate on work now?
@ Revo > aaaah fuggit. Technology is eeevil. The machine rises. And nice almost meeting you too. I lurked largely in the background, playing “guess who” games in my head. And I got a “warning” that I was commenting too fast the other day. I just think wordpress is lazy!
@ Kyk > *rubs hands together, chuckling softly* My work here is done.
Ditto Kyk.
I’ve got Commentitis. A bad case of Nothing-to-Write-Home-Aboutis
Just as I’ve been about to strike the keyboard lately (even with a hammer) I come over all light-headed and giddy, my palms get a bit clammy, and… nothing. Not a word seeps from brain to keyboard, no matter how longingly I gaze at that comment form.
So I, too, am lurking until I recollect my wits, dear. Carry on as you were.
@ Martin > And you? You are also a lazy git. More writing please, Mr D2. More!
@ Mrs B > I donno. That was a pretty damn commenty comment. Can’t be all that bad then? (But I sense it’s going around. I’m commenting like a sloth in molassas.)
erotica! You def need to write some erotica
Have to side with Kyk and Martin on this one dear
Keep them coming. Er 
@ Chewie > I will I will. Just need to consider a few scenarios, capische?
@ Parenthesis > Er…indeed ;)…and ta!
Chewy I’ve been telling her this for ages, she has all sorts of excuses. See Dolce, we *all* think you need to get your erotic fiction on babe!
@ Rox > the pressure the pressure. The hard, hot, throbbing pressure….I’m workin’ on it, people! Just getting a little inspiration
i will send you cash if you can work the following words into a few paragraphs of erotica - without making me giggle:
- turgid loins
- hot monkey love
- man-thing
(thinking perhaps bribery / grand challenge will help you get going…
@ Daisyfae > The ladyboy tucked her man-thing between her legs, making her already turgid loins uncomfortable in the humid, Bangkok night. She wondered if the man would be waiting. With his orangutang. The last thing she needed tonight was hot monkey love. It was impossible to get the orange fur off the bedspread in the morning. She sigh and once again cursed the Annual Thai Grand Challenge and wondered if she could tell the Trailer Manager to fuck off without loosing the bribe money.
I’m speechless with admiration.
@ Mrs B > I don’t know whether to *blush* or *bow*. Eeep.
Wow hun, kudos indeed!
Hehe, ok, so no more pressure… but we can worship at your altar of erotic fiction excellence, ja?
Truce! While your paragraph was moisture-inducing, alas, it was from my eyes! Fucking brilliant… i want to read the rest of this, and perhaps produce the “Made for TV Movie”…
i bow down - snorting, of course….
@ Rox > And to think, you were a big part of my inspiration to blog….
@ Daisyfae > *returns bow* if you laughed half as I did at the bad geese, we are equal!
dolceii - you are truly the little sister i was supposed to have… i’d have given you your first cigarettes, taught you shoplifting and all that… (sigh)
@ Daisy Fae > Ok. Sure. I’ll play along. But I’m not wearing those hand-me-downs. I know your nefarious tricks, woman. (P.S. Ditto. Only I’d have spied on you snogging your boyfriend and told mom about your stash of weed)
dolface: I’d prefer a little grovelling or genuflection, but I’m not about to be picky.
(Snogging, weed, shoplifting… *sigh*, primary school was fun, wasn’t it?)
@ Mrs B > Genuflection is so underated. Speaking of which, did you see the nod from my gorgeously vicious little sandpit gang? Your fame is spreading, much like the black plague.
http://www.onelongminute.com/?q=node/2637.
(Although why they called it “break”, I’ll never know…noone broke anything of any consequence.)
So that’s what flippen’ “node2637″ is… *genuflects*. *Twice*. Thank you, dear.
(Your little thugs are endearing - they’re like a virtual gang of Locks, Shocks, and Barrels from The Nightmare Before Christmas. On crack. I mean that as a compliment, of course.)
@ Mrs B > I am *spectacularly* fond of them. Please feel free to pop in some time for a bit of tea and culling.