yummmy. these look absolutely luscious. And is it just me, or can matches be really really sexy? xxx Slyce.

drooling. no words. yet. just. droooooool.

Oh Lovers! How delicious to find Endie and Fallen dancing through this delightful sphere. Merci Darling Hetaera of Naamah for reading, and loving. And Bella....I wonder what sort of time machine we'll need to uncover to catch up with the tantalizing exploits of these two. xxx

"But what if the bars we keep fantasy behind are ones of our own making?"

Then, who holds the keys?
When our fantasies feel so out of reach, so beyond our grasp?

The mind is an organ of the intellect, yes, and also one of the sex.
With the gentle caress or stinging lick of a thought, I touch myself, and the images that play forth, lighting up like a grid of electricity through my being, are of me, and are also beyond me.

This is fantasy.

Projecting my consciousness into a hyper-reality...not what is, but what could be, what would be, if only...

The mind is also a maze, set with the traps and walls of conditioning and coping, negotiating, and compromising...and we've erected them all to keep ourselves alive, normal, accepted, connected...

But what if when I look into the shadows of our mind, and see that She who holds the keys....

She is me.

That powerful and fearful silhouette, my own projection, judge, domme, keeper, built of a thousand subtle stories, some of my own creating, and some not so...

...and then what if I can find myself suddenly and gently fingering cold metal...find myself leaning up against those firm bars, rubbing my cheek against a heavy lock...how far am I willing to go? What is this throbbing I feel deep in my belly as I gaze past the bars into a world of unknown pleasures, as I gaze into the eyes of some unfathomable creature of the heightened sense realms? Do I lean my forehead against the door, feeling my breasts graze those delicious rods? Do I then press the key into that complex well-oiled hole, feel my breath release as a click fills the mind-space around me, gasp as the spring gives...

Do I dare create reality?

xxx
Slyce

Amen Sweet Love. Amen. xxx

Yes. Yes. Yess.

The first time I wore one, I just lay there alone, deep in the middle of the dark hours... running my hand along it's length... panting at the firmness I could feel both snug within me and protruding out into space....breath coming short, moaning at the shifts it made within as I used my muscles to thrust and lie still, used my hand to grip this divine tool hard, jack myself off, imagining her on top of me...riding me...fucking me....a revelation revolution of the masculine and feminine...and needing no one at all in the room to feel completely sexed, and whole. xxx Slyce.

Sigh.... the beauty of words, of dialogue, captivating minds and hearts and space...challenging us to love without convention and in many cases without the modeling the child in us so craves...the beauty of words, type-written and framed, creating altars over mantels, in nooks, around corners, surprising and delightful, like the memory of a cherished conversation, or afternoon spent scrawling our desire in sharpie ink...manifestas hung in bathrooms, the ones that wash old paradigms from our skin as we bathe our faces in cool clear water.

Bella Love, when we have our mansion, can we get a print of that Eros and Psyche framed in glittering gold and mounted upon the crimson rose wall of our spiraling stair entry way? Right beneath the couture chandelier? xxx S

Hetaera you are going to make me blush! Thank you sweet luv. I have adored your new presence on the site, as well. xxx Slyce

Oh I'm sure he will....and trust me, if he doesn't like the taste, per se, he'll enjoy the attentions of your sweet tingling mouth elsewhere for sure ;) Keep us all posted luvah! xxx Slyce