Sweet Reflections
Reflections of life and love. The past, present and hope for the future.
Very happily married to the man who captured and still holds my heart after many years.
NSFW. This blog is intended for adults only. Under 18, please leave immediately.
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Photo reblogged from Little Miss
Submitted by Dick-n-Jane
Wish we could spend at least one day like this ;)
Us a bit ago after…
Now to bed. Night.
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This morning I noticed that I lost two followers. One was a woman who is a tumblr friend. I emailed her and asked if everything is all right and why did she unfollow me.
“I didn’t unfollow you,” came her reply.
“Well, you’re not on my tumblr followers list anymore.”
Insert several swear words…”tumblr dumped some of my followers last week. Hate it some days.”
So if you loose long-term followers, you might be able to blame the tumblr gremlins.
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“Don’t wait until everything is just right. It will never be perfect. There will always be challenges, obstacles and less than perfect conditions. So what. Get started now. With each step you take, you will grow stronger and stronger, more and more skilled, more and more self-confident and more and more successful.” - Mark Victor Hansen
Words that I still need to remember to maintain a sometimes shaky self-confidence. As I loose more of my independence to my health problems, I am loathe to face a future of watching television all day or being bored. I’d go slowly mad.
I have an active and inquisitive mind—the body is so-so—but the mind still spins around in curiosity.
I’ve wanted to try some new ventures for a while—some are potential hobbies, some are work related. I am going to consider my choices and go for it. As Steve said, I won’t know if I like something until I try it.
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Photo reblogged from Far from virtuous
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Photo reblogged from Delightfully Manic
I swear the last client report I edited was written by a person under the influence. A copy edit became a substantive edit.
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Photo reblogged from Parting of the Mist
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Photo reblogged from For that Moment you Turned Away
Did the conversation go like this:
Him: a) Why didn’t you take this off before you got on top of me?
Or
Him: b) I love revealing what I want to cherish tonight.
I opt for b.
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Photo reblogged from From the desk of an Evil, Warped Bitchmaster...
I am so very fortunate to be the center of his world, as he his mine.
(Source: leilockheart)
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Earlier this evening I was taking dinner from the oven when I felt Steve behind me. As soon as I set the chicken dish on the trivet, he kissed the back of my neck and trailed tiny love bites around to my ear.
Those send me into delicious shivers.
I turned around and cradled his face in my hands still in the oven mitts.
“A new sexual aid,” he teased, touching one mitt.
“We’ve been married so long, we need something new to spice up our sex life,” I answered, kissing his chin.
“You bring the mitts and I’ll bring the spice.”
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You can leave your hat on
Steve and I had gone to a summer afternoon garden wedding. My outfit was a cream suit piped in black, with matching sling back shoes and clutch purse, and a wide brimmed cream hat banded with a black silk ribbon.
I like and look good in a hat. Steve considers it one of my most flattering accessories.
Following the wedding we went to dinner and a jazz club with friends. As we drove home in the warm night air, car windows open, I pulled the pins out of my hair and let it fall down my back. Steve’s hand slipped under the heavy weight to caress my neck and cup the back of my head.
The radio station played Joe Cocker’s cover of “You can leave your hat on.” At a stop light, Steve leaned across the console and his kiss held hints of suppressed passion. “Love your new hat,” he commented again.
When we finally arrived home I started to undress as I walked to the bedroom. I heard a wolf whistle and turned to find Steve leaning against the doorframe with my hat in one hand. The tie came off after dinner, his navy blazer was ditched before we went into the club, the gold cufflinks were in my clutch, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to display his strong forearms. Tall, his blond hair curly from the humidity, and an alluring sexy half smile that still makes me wet, he was one sex-on-a-stick package.
He crooked his finger at me and I sashayed to him in an ivory satin and lace demi bra, matching panties, and garter belt with stockings, and shoes. His right hand reached out to hook a finger in the center of my bra, drawing me to him.
In my three-inch heels I had the height advantage to nip his lower lip as I unbuttoned his shirt. His eyes never left my face, even when my hand trailed down his stomach to flatten against his erection.
Steve’s left hand cupped my buttock, and then slipped into my panties. “Lean back,” he said and when I did he placed my hat on my head. “You can leave the hat on.”
It stayed on until he finished stripping me, then threw it across to room to a chair. The next morning I awoke to a sleeping husband and the hat in its box.
Whenever I hear that song I still remember the passionate lovemaking inspired by a hat and a song.
This sweet memory and photo were inspired by erospainter’s entry earlier this week.
