Work with me Here

RMPworkfromhomeHey Rman, did your client come through or just leave you hanging?

Didn’t meet with the client.  Or the rep. But they have no choice but to deal with this.  He manages a tech stack that was causing the app that runs the business to be down. My guess they are out about 10M. So far. When the manager 4 levels above him is involved, it’s time to focus on a fix. Would love head south early but I’ll have to deal with this.

10M. Yikes. Critical fix is right. So you will have a busy Friday solving all. Totally understand.

I have a call starting in 66 minutes. The day will take shape from that point. The good thing is, we had nothing to do with the outage and have helped on the periphery to fix and advise. The tech guys on my team are pros. They’ve made some recommended changes and have improved everything from this end. We’ve got long term infrastructure improvements in place as well.

Good.  Team will save the day. And without travel to me you’ll be able to do what you need to do without my thighs distracting you from your duties. Though I admit, I love hearing you on the phone, working in the background. Hot, sexy boss types get me off…

Well, then, we should work together more often.

Love to. I’ll set up my laptop and wear something comfortable. You work. I’ll write. We can take a fuck break at 10 a.m., make love at Noon, etc.

I like that schedule. Really like.

She sat, crossed and uncrossed her legs, and traced his name on her thigh with the tip of her finger. 

#for Reticent Mental Property

She is

RMPredlipsShe’s a taker.

Be careful handing out your beautiful heart.

She is hungry for adventure and careless in her expressions of wants.  Believe you have captured her essence, her needs, and they will be unset from stone just as easily as she cemented them in your mind.

Insatiable for what she cannot have, she reaches for it anyway. Her beautiful bottom, strong back, smooth thighs move and dance at your command, your wish, your pleading request for a slow intentional show, just for your eyes, for a time, yes.

As she stretches forward,  to toss her lacy underthings to the floor,  her satisfied smile is already fleeting, hidden behind the curtain of her sex-fed hair,  she returns for more,  and takes her place above you.  Muscles  quivering, panting breath, a heat filled laugh escapes her wine colored lips,  the sweat of her shoulders and face mingles into the kiss she feeds you, and as her hand touches your jaw,  she pulls into her mouth a bit of your free will.

Rising above you, she is taking.  Lift your hands to cup her cheeks and she will throw her head back, giving you her chin,  dipping into your palm, left, then right, and back, even as you smooth back the dark tendrils, she will loosen them from your fingertips, spill the curls over your wrists and make you her canvas with the lapping brush strokes of her hair.

Trying to hold back your hopes,  you will transfer your own resistance to the moment, and involuntarily will grip ever so slightly, more tightly her beautiful face,  and yet, with her throat exposed to your hungry eyes, you will not last long.

She’ll lean in to taste your shoulder, will trace a circle with the tip of her tongue on your ear, will flick in, once, twice, and add a sigh that will cause you such pain when you revisit it,  straining to hear it again, days later,  and a hundred times over.

In the night when you wake up, fingers outstretched, clawing to pull some of the heat she may have left in the fibres, she’ll be there but only in the traces of her scent;  all she made time to leave behind, when she hastily reclaimed her panties from under the pillow, and her silk stockings from the tangled sheets.

Throw open the windows, the icy winter howl is the only way to clear your mind of her. Do not jump.

She’s not for you.

She’s all for self.

#for Reticent Mental Property.



“Janeen asked me if I wanted to go to California at the end of March for 6 days.  $379 round trip and stay with her sister! And then she also is going to Ireland in April and she’s going to Punta Cana in August. “

 “So you told her I’m a wife and a mother and cannot go, duh.”

I slowly unzipped my brown boots.  I dropped one over the side of the bed with a thud.

I grabbed the left boot by the heel and toe and pulled it off,  studied the stitching on the sole while letting my fingers run over the leather, and then threw the second off the side of the bed.

“No, actually that is not what I said.”   And then I got up and walked out of the room. 

It was a very large house with a very small bed. 

#for Reticent Mental Property

Tell yourself it is someone else’s story

RMPwritingtypewriterThink we are  the only ones out there who feel the need to reshape our worlds and realign our dreams?

There comes a day, a day when we wake up to find ourselves trudging along in the exact spot we always planned to be, but now, find lacking. We can’t understand the words to any of the songs and we sometimes turn off the radio because it causes background noise.  We watch everyone dancing and we remember agreeing to this deal, but, yah, we forgot to read the fine print.

And then we choose.

We choose to write our own story, again.  Yes, we’ve been writing one all these years, a chapter a day. Sometimes, a chapter a year.

The first drafts are rife with missteps and character flaws.  The hero is not cleverly disguised, typically hasn’t saved anyone and at first, is selfish and at last,  is still selfish.  In other words:  Egotistical humanoid.

In the second draft, the hero is complacent, unaware of potential, coasting, taking the easy way. The perks are good. The views acceptable. The room service is timely and the opportunity for advancement is shrouded by moral standards and chest thumping ownership of valuable bennies.  The theme of the week is driving hard and fast, but for short distances and only while wearing clothing and in the glow of the television.   In other words:  Narcolepsy invasion.

One day, we let someone read our story and they pat us on the head and admire us but also ask if we are where we thought we’d be at this time in our life plan?   And then another one mentions a walk on the Appalachian Trail and how idiotic it is when the lead character prepares little for bad weather and safety, but packs a lot of condoms.  And in the middle of a long January winter, we realize we have been smothered by our own comfort. In other words: Painfully aware.

We either go back to sleep or we stretch, breathe, maybe begin to sway, a soothing rock from stable hips.

And then we write.

#for Reticent Mental Property. 


RMPbubblebathPlease remove the rose colored glasses from the silk pouch near your keyboard and wear them for the duration of this escape.

Women can have it all, Sheryl Sandberg.

Rough and gentle

Some love-fucking.

Some exclusivity and crazy reckless multiples.

Sensual and raw, crazy and slow

Mid-afternoon trysts,

Locked doors,

Introducing my shoulder blades to the wall.

The only truth is in the intensity.

And how you slowly trace the vertebrate bumps down my back,

with one finger,

while I rest between your knees

in the bubbles of the bath.


I won’t run.  I’ll swagger

back to the demands of my day,

and carry you with me,

dripping down the inside of my thigh.

Contrary to popular belief, productivity can be increased  by 17%  given improper motivation.   

#for Reticent Mental Property. Photo credit to:

In my Head

RMPwordsholdingmeI know your words so well now.   And, when I come across them in my saved emails  I’m always caught for a second, suspended in want,  until I put it all into perspective.  

 I had fallen for you. Hard.

It was a million words ago.

And since, have picked myself up.  And dusted myself off. 

And today,  can almost pretend you never happened.

Except you changed everything.

You were my first word trader in a currency of written conversation.

Who can compare off the page to what I  let imagination create between us in our screen time together?

You laughed once about how I became so smitten.

I confessed the power someone has when he is the first to unlock decades of wandering lost and lustless living.

So grateful I read between  your lines.  So pleasurable to power up and find your words waiting for me while I was still sleepy and wearing my pajamas.   Words with my coffee became the best meal of the day.

So pleased you were years ahead of me and knew what I was facing.  And were patient enough to let me figure it out and learn to articulate it without blame, before I grew to hate and regret the good choices I made all those years ago.

Lovers?  Us?

We never touched.  But our words, oh, they caressed me late into the night.

Beautiful foolish lover.   She let his words get in her head.   Tut-tut. 


#for Reticent Mental Property, photos exchanged,  privacy forever protected, and permission to share will ever, ever be sought.


RMPkingdom_of_dreamers_by_shamanskiDreams, those dancing fantasies we think we leave on the pillow, the ones we shed in our childhood,  those we have traded for traditional roles, even those defiled with honorable intention are always within us,  stirring, waiting, willing.

#for ReticentMentalProperty. Photo credit to Natural Imaging, 2013 and by Shamanski