D: Tell me about one of your most satisfying sexual encounters.

It is not a question. 

s: My most satisfying sexual encounters occur when I am in want, when I look him in the eye and have no need to look away. Time has stopped and I am in the moment, fierce and defiant and strong.  These timeless connections involve a lot of touch, some rough riding, trails of kisses from my mouth, down his body and back to his mouth, over and over.

All good times involve some flexibility, some complimentary whispers about hotness interlaced with gasps from him of “oh fuck” and “oh, like that, yesss” and always laughter, mostly mine,  and a trail of lacy clothing strewn from the doorway to the bed, draped over the back of the couch, a stocking on the stairs, my handbag on the table next to my rings.

Lasting a couple of hours at most, none involve physical restraints or blindfolds, though admittedly, the same effect is created by my hands pressing against his chest and my eyes, blind from my hair in such a mess it covers my face, all from moving over him while I am taking him in, by feel, just following the contours of his body and trusting that passion alone is more powerful than skill, at least early in the evening.

My hips show him my need. My body, shaking and trembling with the pure happiness in the act itself, truly takes over and I fucking love to be joined with someone, to take him inside me and deeply connect in this intimate way.

His response to me is largely reactionary because I so clearly find beauty in the way his hands interlace with mine and anyone can see this written on my face during, and after, if only he will take the time to brush my hair from my forehead, watch me getting lost in him.

Yes, I talk some, checking to see how close he is, weighing whether I want to let him take it to the point of no return or if I want to move to another position and interrupt him, always with plans to start again, in a different position and work my way to the same stride.

D: Perhaps you are not a sub at all, Mistress.


Once, after, while looking up at her, he reached his hand to touch her cheek, to trace the line of her jaw from ear to the point of her chin.  His thumb crossed her lips from corner to corner and in response she opened them to taste herself on his skin. He breathed deeply, sighed with laughing eyes and such contentment, exhaled, “You should patent your moves.” His was not a question.  




# For Reticent Mental Property, image credit to artist Peter O’Neil, website.

St. Valentine

RMPstvalentineprague2:25 PM granite: how is your afternoon
2:26 PM me: hi hi hi
2:27 PM granite: keeping busy?
 me: no, my afternoon is quiet….YOURs is busy
2:28 PM granite: yeah i know…should be done at 2 though
2:29 PM me: and that’s when my shift ramps up…whatevah…
2:30 PM granite1207: ahh. jesus we have timing
 me: yes
2:31 PM did u get my email…?
 granite: yes ….very nice pic you are pretty
2:37 PM me: r u working or playing?… teasing.
 i am playing.
but i’m supposed to be working.
 i’m a very bad employee.
 granite: i am working…wish i was playing with you…
  lol good for you
  we all need distractions
 me: just this week or so…mostly i’m an awesome employee…i just get so much done i have time to play…
2:40 PM granite: well i work 50-60 hrs a week so can take some time
 me: I wore my boots today…
 granite: ooh very sexy
 me: 50/60hrs?…and you want to add more to your life…?
 granite: lol yup exaclty
  as i said i have some flexibility during the day time
2:41 PM me: clearly this kind of relationship is time consuming…i hope you know what you are (trying) to get yourself into…
2:42 PM granite: oh i do very well
  and i intend to invest the time into it if it works out
  one must have priorities
2:43 PM me: oh, i know your priorities…do you think we have any common ground beyond, er, that one area of priority…?
2:44 PM guess we’ll find out.
2:45 PM granite: lol yes wel will… we will see when we have pillow talk …
2:46 PM me: you sound pretty sure of the pillow…lunch first (and I don’t mean me…) then we will see…
2:47 PM granite: lol of course..but i think we will click
 me: i might like pillow fights over pillow talk…
2:48 PM granite: hmm that could be kinky
 me: most everything can be…
2:51 PM hold that (dirty) thought…lunch plan…let’s make one…where…time… I’ll be busy west side til 12:30ish…
2:54 PM granite: uf dah.. i have a meeting at 1
2:55 PM me: laughing. l nearly spit out coffee.
 granite: free from 1045-1
  lol i now
  really normally my schedule is not this bad..am going on vacation next wed so have alot planned to make up for that
2:56 PM me: be careful. i’m going to start taking this scheduling issue as a sign…VACA– that’s what’s doing it… always have to put in two weeks the week prior to get one week off…
2:57 PM i hope you are going somewhere tropical where they bring you Mai-tais and lemon scented towels…
2:58 PM granite: well quite the opposite..somewhere where there are mountains and 12 inches of fresh snow
2:59 PM going to Utah
3:00 PM me: oh yes…no sex there… bwahaha… sorry, that is probably not funny…ok. a mountain trip. Then i hope someone (wearing furry high heels and a thong brings you a nice sidecar in the evening so you can unwind and warm up all over…)
3:01 PM granite: ha that would be nice..i am meeting family and staying with them out there, so def. no sex
  there will be wine
  oh that reminds me..what is your religious background
3:02 PM me: i’m devout and nun-like.
 granite: well i am pious and priest like
  so we are good
  i was raised catholic and and now an atheist
  the reason i bring it up is I was going to insult mormons
3:03 PM cuz in Utah its freakin hard to buy booze
 me: insult at your leisure. btw i have GOT to see that play about Mormons…
 granite: yes me too!
  Book of Mormon
  is playing in Chicago
3:04 PM me: Yes, that’s it.
 granite: i kinda should have figured you weren’t mormon
 me: i have vehemently rejected my catholic upbringing. I have always thought I was born in the wrong pew.
 granite: well we have that in common too
3:06 PM me: I prefer Muir, ” No wonder the hills and groves were God’s first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord.”
3:07 PM but i am not an atheist. yet.
3:09 PM granite: well you are going to hell anyway
 me: this i know. if there is a hell.
3:10 PM granite: that is why i don’t believe in it…
 me: how long did it take you to kick the church’s ass to the curb…?
3:11 PM oh. hold that thought. you know the time. it’s time. must go.
 granite: okay will tell you more on that later
3:12 PM me: Must go pray to St. Valentine over dinner for guidance and how to save my soul…
 granite: lol st valentine …he will likely make you more corrupt
  which is good
3:13 PM me: it is who i am.
 granite: ha i kinda figured
 me: you have no idea.
 granite: oooh really???
  i hope to find out your darkest secrets
 me: i hope i’m able to trust you to allow them to be revealed…
3:14 PM granite: i will protect them always
 me: thank you.
3:15 PM ttfn
 granite: bye now
 me: bye
# for Reticent Mental Property



She attended the fundraiser, alone, last evening.

She willingly inserts herself into the room. A room filled with generosity, like-minded givers.  And men.  Men wearing suits.  Some step aside, unable to meet her eyes, some engage with a handshake and kind words. Hers is a familiar and welcoming face, heart open to a good cause and an attitude inspiring dancing even in cerebral settings. 

She knows he would have been proud to have been by her side, with her, present, through the long evening, hand on the small of her back, as she works the room, easily taking over the place.

She scans the male scenery, touching some on the shoulder, all the while glancing at fingertips, and the curve of the palm, the bend in the thumb, breathing. 

It is always the same, the natural order of her mind, to taste with her eyes  the hands. Hands with long fingers, raised veins roping across the backs, the tendons flexing, then taut,  hands she has learned are skilled in conversing without words.  These drive her to distraction.

She is drawn to one male who silently raises glass, in toast fashion, sharing his beautiful fingers wrapped around the bowl, confidently allowing his smile to reach his eyes when she braces herself,  lifts her chin, and accepts his appraising attention.

He is the one she allows to take her in, standing taller as his eyes sweep downward, from throat to hip, and she knows his gaze lingers on the back of her neck, as she turns away, a measured smile upon her lips, held in check, but then released as she transforms it into laughter and idle banter, the compliment safely absorbed to her core, amidst the polite chatter and din.

She is alone, and his hands feed her mind. 

# for Reticent Mental Property