Introducing Kalli…

As regular readers will know, I am a very firm believer in writers supporting each other and today I am ridiculously excited to share with you all a wonderful, brand new talent!

The very lovely Kalli has realised her childhood dream and published her first anthology of poetry, entitled “I Love you, (I know)”, which is available from Amazon and Createspace as a paperback right now and will be in eBook format very soon.

In her beautiful book, Kalli takes us on a passionate voyage through love, lust and loss, documenting the soaring highs and heart shattering lows of a turbulent D/s relationship. Reading her poems, no one could question the depth of Kalli’s love and devotion; her utter despair and pain that follows her lover’s rejection leaps from the page and tears at the reader’s heart. I think it’s fair to say that we all aspire to be loved, and to love, as fervently as Kalli does.

Her use of language and rhythm is a joy, making the book incredibly easy and pleasurable to read. She sweeps us up and away on a submissive’s journey through joy and heartbreak, though the light and dark of love; we, as readers, feel her every emotion with every word and every verse.

I simply cannot urge you enough to go purchase this beautiful anthology – I honestly do think this lady has a serious talent and I hope this debut collection will not be her last publication.

I wish her nothing but success with this book and I do hope that her heart heals and that she finds the love she so very clearly deserves… anyone would be lucky to be loved so well.

Why are you still here? Go buy the book here! 

Follow news of I Love You, (I Know) on twitter at @Kalli_Kk

💋

Copyright, 2017, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*V.A.P.S.

I have been driving the OH quite mad of late. (Possibly for much longer than that!)

I have put on quite a bit of weight… well, in my opinion, quite a lot!

I had some very serious depression and anxiety issues this year, along with some health concerns I have blogged about previously, all of which resulted in a little bit too much comfort eating and drinking. And an expanding waistline…

I have been moaning about how fat I am, how awful I look and feel and it is really getting on his nerves. He is worn out telling me to stop saying these things, telling me I am ‘gorgeous’ and ‘beautiful’; alternating between almost endless patience and occasional, (and understandable), irritation at my self-hating repetition.

I asked him had he not noticed my new shape and he agreed he had and that it really doesn’t matter: “When you were slimmer I found you sexy, when you were or are bigger I find you sexy. You have a real problem seeing yourself the way you really are.”

I thought about this over, and over.

For me, this is impossible to accept. It is no failing on his part, it is all on me. I simply cannot see what he says he sees. I simply cannot accept that he finds me attractive or desirable. I think I am repulsive.

Eventually, I asked him, “So, what you are saying is – you love and accept me just as I am, no matter how I look or how much I change. Is that it?”

He looked at me, slightly exasperated and said, “That is exactly it.”

Now my challenge is to believe it.

💋

*Very Annoying Person Syndrome – an affliction I torture myself and others with.

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved

Through His Eyes

“I want to fuck you. But I don’t want to fuck with you.”

“Nice line there,” she smiled.

A wry grin spread over his lips, “Isn’t it though, I’ve been practicing it.”

His fingers reached out and touched hers hugging her coffee cup. She pulled away slightly and sighed.

“Jaq,” he searched for the words, cursing his inability to express himself, “I’m as new to this as you are.”

She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, and looked away, out the window at the blackbird, which had set up residence in the garden.

They had known each other forever, or at least that’s how it felt. Colleagues for years, they had hit it off from day one. Their naturally flirtatious personalities just clicked. Their work styles complimented each other too; him – calm, patient, taking his time to get things just so, her – fast, creative, eager to get things done. They balanced each other out and made a good team. He was her safety net, she was his caffeine shot. It worked.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, “This is a mess.”

“You think falling for you was in my plan?” he replied, not angry, but frustrated. Frustrated at the situation they found themselves in. Frustrated she couldn’t accept what he was offering her. Frustrated at her lack of self confidence.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she impatiently wiped it away with her sleeve, rolling her eyes at her own lack of control.

“Hey now,” his hand cupped her chin, gently forcing her to look at him, “We can work this out. I don’t know how yet, but we can.”

He rubbed his stubble, “Look, I don’t ever want to force you into anything. I’ll go at your pace. Even if nothing ever happens, I’m here,” he said, knowing in his heart that he meant it but that he wanted her in every way possible.

He wanted her mind; he loved how it worked, so sharp and quirky and so different to his. He wanted her body, god how he wanted her body; her curves, her softness. He wanted to kiss her until she begged for breath, taste her skin, inhale the scent of her hair. He wanted to see her naked and take pleasure in her. He wanted to feel her move beneath him as he fucked her. He wanted to hear her moan his name. He wanted to drive her to the edge of orgasm over and over until she wept, pleading for release and then start all over again. He could never tire of her, that much he knew.

But she was still unsure. Where she saw only her flaws, he saw beauty, fragility, vulnerability. She couldn’t believe what he said he saw in her. He feared she never would. He struggled to imagine how he could change her view of herself. How could he make her trust that it was her he wanted, just as she was, right there in front of him – hair unbrushed, mascara blurred, lips chapped from her habit of chewing on them.

“Give me time?” she asked, another tear ran down her face. His fingers wiped it away and stroked her wet cheek.

“All the time you need, little one. All the time in the world.”

But deep inside… he wondered.

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Watching…

I could feel his eyes on me, following me as I moved around the room.

Memories of how we had spent the afternoon, entangled in each other’s sweating bodies; fucking, sucking, biting, slapping, raised a blush on my chest and cheeks as his gaze burned my skin.

No one in the room knew about us. It was our secret. Ours alone. They knew us simply as colleagues, collaborators, teammates.

I watched him sip his wine as he mingled, watched him smile and chat to our friends and associates, knowing that I knew him more intimately than anyone else there. I knew what made him groan with pleasure, what moves rendered him helpless and lost. I knew how to make this dominant, strong, quiet man sink to the floor in exhausted satiety. I knew how the sight, the feel, the taste of me drove him wild, robbed him of speech, made his eyes roll back in his head and his breath catch in his throat.

Our eyes met. My cunt throbbed with want for him. Even though we had played all afternoon, I wanted more. I never had enough. He glanced towards the French doors leading to the hotel garden and his message was clear. Excusing myself, I put down my drink and discretely left the room.

I welcomed the warm summer evening breeze on my skin, which was clammy from the crowded room. The scent of the rose garden filled my head as I walked towards the quiet area, secluded from sight of the conference room.

I felt his presence before he spoke my name, his voice deep and husky, then his lips were on mine, stealing my breath, claiming me as his. He pushed me up against the stone wall as he nuzzled my throat, nipping my skin and pulling my dress down from my shoulder. His mouth moved to my nipple, sucking hard and biting it, rolling it between his teeth. My cunt ached for him and he knew, as his fingers found it, wet and swollen; ready.

Pushing my dress up past my hips, he sank to his knees and buried his face between my thighs, his tongue working on me as his fingers pumped inside me. I closed my eyes, grasped his hair and threw my head back against the wall, blocking out everything but the sensations he was bringing out of me.

As the first flickerings of orgasm built within me, I opened my eyes. Standing slightly outside of the shadows was Simon, who I knew only from passing and saying a quick hello. Tall, well-built, blue eye and with a hint of beard, I had noticed him, but we hadn’t spoken much ever. He was watching us, his eyes focused on me, as he stroked the hard length of cock peeking out from his flies. He smiled at me, and the thrill of being seen, my naked breast hanging out of my dress, my leg hooked over my lover’s shoulder as he lapped and drank from me, pushed me over the edge. I moaned loudly as I lost myself in the surge of pleasure, my knees buckling beneath me. He caught me before I hit the ground, his arms holding me up. His mouth tasted of me as he kissed me again.

Later, as I hovered by the buffet, deciding what to load onto my plate, a voice from behind me whispered in my ear, “You look beautiful when you come, Alice.”

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

 

 

F4TF #31 – Free Pass

If your partner was to offer you a “free pass”, where you could do anything with anyone, without there being any recriminations, would you take advantage of it? If so, how? Have you ever been given such a “pass” and did you use it?

Ha! If any of you have been readers of either of my other two blogs you’ll be well aware of my feelings on the Free Pass idea… my list expands and changes on a weekly basis!

The long-suffering OH has agreed to it, (which to be fair, isn’t really such a sacrifice on his part, given that the chances of me running into Jamie Dornan et al, let alone the chances of him/them wanting to fuck me, are pretty astronomical!).

In all seriousness, if I was to meet him, or any of my other fantasy lovers, I think I would simply not be able to follow through. When it comes down to it, it’s just sex with a hot guy… and who’s to even say it’d be any good? What if they have BO, bad breath, sniff too much, are totally crap in bed?

And how would the OH feel knowing I’m off shagging some A-lister while he sits at home with the dogs? How would I feel thinking of him? I honestly think I’d rather stay home and play with my crazy little family. (Am I getting old?)

What would the atmosphere be like the next day?

“Do anything fun last night darling?”

“Well, seeing as you asked…”

Maybe I am growing up, (eek!), but right now I am completely content with keeping the Free Pass idea as fun, silly little fantasy.

What I have with the OH is real, solid, it matters. It matters so much more than a meaningless encounter with someone else, no matter how gorgeous and sexy they are.

Besides… I happen to have lucked out and got myself a very gorgeous and sexy OH anyway so the Free Pass is pretty redundant.

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

F4TF #30 -To Share or Not To Share

Monogamy – do you think it is our natural inclination?

Are you in a monogamous relationship or do you you live a polyamorous life?

If you are monogamous, is it by choice? Do you find it easy or is it a struggle?

I set the question this week, following another one of mine and KW’s chats, (we really do chat about this, that and everything!).

I don’t actually believe that monogamy is our natural state. Back when the human race was living in constant danger of eminent and early death, be that at the fangs of a sabre tooth tiger or from a range of deadly, untreatable diseases, it made sense to pair up, procreate and remain together to ensure the survival of offspring and keep the genetic line alive.

(Although anthropologists have suggested that women did in fact sleep around much more than we first thought and then settled down with the man who would be the best provider/protector but who was not necessarily the biological father.)

Now that we live for so much longer, it seems perhaps naïve to think we can be satisfied by just one partner for life. I know I have different friends that I can turn to for different needs; there’s the one that’s always fun to be around, the one that seems to just ‘get’ me, the one I can bitch and moan to, the one I can gossip with. So, why do we think we should have just one person who provides everything we need in a sexual relationship? To me it feels restrictive and limiting and is based upon a social construct.

Having said all that, I am in a monogamous marriage. The OH is very aware of my opinion on mono/poly and he can see my point but doesn’t share it. Our compromise? I get to flirt as much as I like but remain faithful. I love him and, at the end of the day, my curiosity about being with other people does not outweigh my feelings for him and for his need to be my one and only. In his own words, he “doesn’t like to share”!

To be honest, I think if I did try to embark on a polyamorous relationship, I would find it very difficult to adjust and cope with feelings of jealousy or insecurity. Perhaps conservative social norms are too embedded in my psyche, perhaps the 13 years of convent education fucked me up, perhaps I am moreso intellectually curious about poly than driven to experience it.

But it works for us – I get to flirt outrageously and he knows he’s the only one who gets to handle the goods!

Each to their own I say – as long as everyone in the relationship, (whether that is a couple or enough people to create a rugby team), are informed, consenting and happy then live and let live and enjoy!

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Brief Encounter

“People say I’m the life of the party, coz I tell a joke or two…”

Her voice was low and soft as she sang along to the background music, her hips gently swaying to Smokey’s high tenor as she browsed the shelves. Her shoulders moved in time to the beat and I noticed her feet had started to shuffle and she slapped her hand against her thigh rhythmically. She seemed lost in her own private world. Her complete absence of self-consciousness was beguiling.

I lingered to watch her, hoping she couldn’t feel my eyes on her. Dressed in faded jeans, a pretty feminine blouse and Converse sneakers, her chestnut hair piled up into a messy topknot with a few little wisps curled at the nape of her neck.

The music changed to another Robinson song and she instantly adjusted her movement. I heard her sing along, “Baby let’s cruise, away from here…”.

She knew her Motown; the girl had good taste! Totally lost in the music her hands rose into the air, finders clicking. With no warning for me to move and hide, she spun around; her eyes closed for a fraction of a second before she opened them and spotted me. A flash of surprise in her moss green eyes and I watched as her cheeks flushed pink. She tugged on her fringe as if to hide behind it, but I saw a small smile on her lips.

I wanted to go over to her, ask her name, but my feet seemed to have sprouted roots into the shop floor. The feeling of loss, of missed opportunity, as I watched her put down the jar of pasta sauce she was holding and turn to hurry in the opposite direction was extraordinary and out of proportion.

Her image remains burned onto my memory; her small stature, generous, shapely curves, the speckling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, that shy smile…

I will never know her name.

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.