Sometimes, just the mere taste of fine chocolate can bring me close to an orgasm. It can be a transformative experience when I find myself alone with a tasty chocolate dish and a glass of red wine.
Moscow ordered for both of us in perfect French. I listened closely and gathered we were starting with a soup of some kind and then a dish with prawns and more red wine. The server returned shortly with slices of warm baguette in a bread basket. “Merci!” we both chimed enthusiastically. It seemed that Moscow liked warm bread as much as me. Well, despite his nickname, he was French!
It was an unseasonably warm spring day outside of a small café on boulevard de la Tour Maubourg in the heart of Paris, I sat taking in the sights and sounds of the city. In the distance, I could just make out the lights from the Eiffel Tower as the sun made room for nightfall. Cars rolled along and people strolled by on their way home or to an evening of magic in this city of wonder. It was shaping up to be the perfect Parisian evening.
Tonight, I looked at my husband across the dinner table and saw his tired eyes and face. I was so filled with love and admiration because everything he does is for us, his family.
In general, pain sucks. If you've ever spent time at a hospital they ask you to rate your pain with a likert scale so that they can determine how to eliminate it. When you're in so much pain, it can be hard to relax and hard for your body to heal. But, pain can also teach us many things.
Samantha put the cool glass of bubbling champagne to her full painted lips and drank. She closed her dark eyes as she swallowed, trying to savor every drop. She took a deep breath to calm herself knowing what was to come.
Blink once, what to do? Right swiped for those eyes. Mind open, golden rule, you took me by surprise.
The private cab Sir had called moved us slowly and smoothly through the city streets of London. With the privacy partition, it felt like we were very much alone, Sir and I.
Brick by brick we built these walls around our hearts and then, like ugly buildings in cityscapes, we plaster, paint, then start again.
My journey to polyamory in my married life began like most people who I’ve chatted with about it: my husband and I lost the intimacy and connection we used to have.