Just sayin'...

I never know which direction these blogs are going to go when I get in here.

While I was standing in the kitchen making my tuna fish for lunch, I had about 17 thoughts right in a row about what I could write about. I'm not going to do any of them, I don't think.

I just deleted the first thing I was going to write.

Did you know that odd-numbered things make me really nervous? Yeah, they do. I like balance. Odd numbers are not balanced.

Lately, I don't feel very balanced.

I love laughing. Last night, while playing volleyball, I was laughing so hard while playing, I could barely breathe. Then I missed my only serve of the night. It was worth it.

Lately, I will sometimes forget to laugh when I'm supposed to.

I don't make many requests in life. Mostly, because I believe everything that I want will come to me because it's supposed to. Because I matter. If I do make a request, it's usually pretty important to me.

I like to eat tuna fish, but I've had enough in the last two weeks to last me a lifetime.

Right now seems like a good time to have a coke. I hardly ever drink coke, but it sounds really tasty at the moment.

Taking the time to write these blogs is actually harder than I would have ever thought. And it's all just random thoughts.

I really hate being ignored. Well, ignored and/or dismissed.

I'm smarter than you think I am or that I even let on that I am.

People are either for change, or against it. I'm for change, but only when it's for the better.

Somebody inform me when those changes are for the better.

Okay, enough of this random nonsense.

If Xan can do it, why can't I?

I'm having one of those days. It's like, when I think things are going pretty well, they just sort of fall apart right before my eyes. Don't get me wrong, I'm still in a fairly decent mood, I'm just annoyed. Things are NOT going the way I planned today. Stupid.

I have six different email accounts, all of which are active and I use frequently:

1. @moneyconcepts.com (work) - Money Concepts is our broker-dealer at work and any financial planning emails have to go through their system.

2. @nchwealth.com (work) - NCH Wealth Advisors is the name of our company.

3. @thelazycpa.com (work) - The owner of our company has been dubbed "The Lazy CPA" because he ALWAYS takes a 2-week vacation in the middle of tax season and still does 400 1040's a week - so, he has a website based around that, and we get an email for it.

4. @cablespeed.com (personal) - This is the email we use through our internet provider at home. I use it for family contact and FB, mostly.

5. @gmail.com (personal) - I got this email after I started talking to Alex because we were sending emails constantly throughout the day. It's easier to IM her now. LOL.

6. @live.com (personal) - I got this one to get a new WLM Messenger account, that I don't really use very much anymore. But, it's the email that's directed to my phone, so I always get Xan's emails.

Sometimes I say things I shouldn't and then regret them later.

I sprained my wrist the other day while playing volleyball. It hurts pretty bad, but not nearly as much as a broken heart.

I have STACKS of work piling up in my inbox next to my desk. All of it needs to be done before the 3rd quarter statements come in. The problem? Third quarter ends today and every time I try to get to it, my boss throws something new on my plate. That's not frustrating at all.

I didn't brush my hair this morning. I know that sounds bad, but it looks exactly the same as it did yesterday, so I pulled it up, jumped in the shower real quick, and then put it back down. Works for me.

I'm a really patient person.

Except when I'm sitting here impatiently.

My coffee tastes quite delicious today.

Oh, I forgot to mention... I started this blog yesterday, so it might not make a lot of sense. :)

I'd give my right arm to have my boss stay away from the desk all day today.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I tripped over a girl going for the second hit in a volleyball practice. I was the team captain and the setter. Setter's always get the second hit. Christina never could figure that out. Anyway, I tripped over her and fell on my arm. Badly. I went to the hospital, had x-rays, and found out I had only sprained my wrist. However, in the mean time, I had missed a really important basketball game that I had been planning on going to for over a month, and I missed the next volleyball game because I was told not to play. Back then, missing the basketball game slightly overshadowed the fact that I didn't get to play in that next game. Now, looking back, playing in the game definitely wins.

www.peopleofwalmart.com is horrific, disgusting and addicting all in one. I need to step away.

I have a boyfriend. His name is Xander. I love him.

I've been at work for an hour now and haven't done one work related thing. I have tweeted, talked to Alex on IM, texted with Xan, read a blog, checked Facebook and had a conversation about the munchkin's Halloween costume, and deleted all the spam from my email.

Lazy.

Alright, my wrist hurts, so I'm going to finish up my coffee and attempt some work while I wait for Xan to get back in the office.

I'll end with a quote:

"In real love you want the other person's good. In romantic love you want the other person." --Margaret Anderson

Reflections of life...

My brother is getting married tomorrow. I'm supposed to give a "personal reflection" during the ceremony. This is the gist of what I plan to say. :)

-----

While growing up, my brother and I never really did see eye to eye on a lot of things. This fact became apparent at a very young age. For example, when we were 3 and 4, Rob decided that a plastic toy golf club would make a much better baseball bat… and I would be the perfect ball.

To this day, I still have to disagree, though I find it much funnier now than I did at the time.

As we grew up, we had our fair share of fights – some definitely bigger than others – but it was nothing more than normal sibling bickering. I knew deep, deep, deep down inside of him, he really loved me and that was the only reason he picked on me the way he did.

Rob and I were nothing short of oil and water. I was the aggressive-defensive big sister and he was that really annoying little brother.

But we did have our good times, too. I have a lot of memories of laughing. All of you know exactly how funny Rob can be when he’s “in the zone”. Imagine living with him.

I have a lot of memories that were merely pleasant, like taking a trip with Rob and my dad across country and hardly fighting at all.

And then I have some memories that I really can’t explain. For example, Rob’s sophomore year of high school he was named Coming Home King. Some of you may remember how sick he was that day. What I remember, outside of that fact, is that while he was putting his tux on he could barely stand and asked if I could put his cuff links on for him. It’s a really simple memory, but a heartfelt one.

And though we did have those tender moments as brother and sister, had some really great times, funny times, and some absolutely hilarious times, growing up with someone you constantly disagreed with was not always easy.

However, when it mattered most, we did agree. And what matters the most to Rob, is Sara.

Sara and I have known each other for a really long time. I’d say all the way back to high school. But we became really good friends when we started working together. It’s not hard to become friends with Sara. She’s a genuinely honest, sweet, and caring person. I’ve never heard her raise her voice and I can’t imagine she’s ever looked down upon anyone. Her smile can brighten a room and her laugh is infectious.

In short, when I first started to get to know Sara, I decided she was the exact opposite of Rob.

As time went by, it became alarmingly clear that Rob and Sara liked each other. And I can see how it happened. Sara is a wonderful person, and Rob does know how to turn on the charm. Throw in the fact that they worked at the same location and saw each other constantly, and you have a recipe for love.

It was unfortunate that everyone else could see it and they couldn’t.

It became a mission amongst the Dancer’s and the Young’s to finally bridge that friend gap between Rob and Sara. The lines were already starting to blur as it was. But matchmaking proved to be more difficult than expected.

My sister, Becky, would always ask that Sara come babysit for her. Then she’d sit down with her and pull out all the old home videos. Most of you are not privy to the hilarious image of Rob’s 3-year-old pelvic thrust dance move, but I assure you, it holds its own certain degree of adorableness. And though Becky would continuously prompt Sara with, “Isn’t he so cute?” and “Isn’t he so funny?”, Sara seemed severely oblivious to Becky’s exact point.

One winter, my mother worked it out so that Rob and Sara had to paint the work bathroom. For a week solid they were in a 10x10 room alone together and even the paint fumes didn’t seem to go to their heads.

A few more thwarted attempts later and it became evident that more drastic – and less subtle – attempts needed to be made. After a long discussion with my family, I was given the task of telling Sara exactly how my brother felt about her.

So, on December 24, 2002 – my brother’s birthday – I took Sara to lunch at The Olive Garden in Okemos. We had our salads and breadsticks and while we waited for our main course, I dropped the bomb – so to speak.

I remember after I had finally explained to Sara that it was quite pointless for them to continue to beat around the proverbial bush, her face turned a bright shade of red and she laughed. Nervously.

She confessed that she had always liked Rob, but didn’t think he actually liked her. She went on to say that she still didn’t quite believe it, but did mention that it would be okay if we told him that she liked him, too.

And then she got redder.

On our way out of the restaurant that day, we actually ran into Mom and Rob going into The Olive Garden for Rob’s birthday lunch. It was like fate, destiny, and Sara was red as a radish.

Phase one was complete.

There are a lot of details that happened afterwards that led to their official anniversary date of December 31, 2002, but I think I’ll skip over those. Because the real point of all this is that they ended up together – no matter how it happened.

Rob is my brother – and I do love him. As we’ve grown, we’ve found a common ground to stand on. Rob is there for me and I am there for him, no matter what.

Sara is my friend and my sister. I don’t know a nicer person and I’d do anything for her, because I love her, too.

Together, they are a force of love to be reckoned with.

Rob, there is no other woman more suited for you, and Sara, you really did get the cream of the crop. Today, we take your nearly 7 years together and make it official. Finally. You’ll have memories of this day that will stay with you forever. You’ll have another date on your calendar that you get to remember. You’ll have a shared surname and a family full of in-laws, but most of all, you’ll still have each other. And there’s no greater gift than that.

Cyber Sex...

She picked her pillow up off the bed, fluffed it and finally rested it against the headboard. She pulled her shirt off over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her bra went next and then she unbuttoned her jeans. She slid them down her tanned legs and stood there, stretching, in only her black, lace panties.

It's something she had done for years, pulling off all her clothes before bed, and then stretching. It had no real point, but she liked the way it felt, standing there exposed and loosening her joints and muscles.

After the usual five minutes, she picked up her discarded clothes, dropped them into the hamper, and then grabbed her PJ's - a pair of black yoga pants and a white tank top - pulling them on. Once she was dressed again, she climbed into the bed and rested her back against her pillow. She rolled her neck a few times, hearing it crack in several places, then picked up her laptop from the bed beside her.

Opening the lid, she watched the screen pop to life and waited patiently for the internet to connect. She opened her email and saw 17 new messages sitting there, each a new follower on Twitter.

"Bots," she mumbled to herself, before clicking the delete box beside each without opening them. Just as she had finished deleting the last one, her instant message box opened and she smiled to herself when she saw his name.

Hello beautiful.

Settling down against her pillow, she stretched her legs out in front of her, a pleasant knot already tightening in her stomach.

Well, hello there, handsome.

She waited. It had been a long time since they'd had this time together and she knew it was going to be amazing. She just had to be patient.

How are you this evening? Settled into bed?

He always knew, didn't he? They had a sixth sense about each other and the first time she had noticed it, she knew they belonged together.

I'm quite well, thank you. Settled into bed just fine, yes. How are you? In your favorite chair?

She grinned at his response.

You're so smart, my love. I wish you were sitting in it with me.

The words penetrated right through her soft skin and attacked the butterflies in her stomach. God how she wanted to be in that chair with him.

I do, too. I have an itch that needs to be scratched.

One hand moved from the keyboard and drifted to her breast. She started to rub and pinch her erect nipple through her shirt, causing a breathy moan to escape her lips.

I have just the tool you need for that, baby. Come have a seat. I'll make it all better.

She pinched her nipple hard before putting both hands on the keyboard again.

Please do, baby. Tell me how you're going to make it all better.

She was going to be selfish tonight. They usually split the duty, but it had been so long. She wanted this and she would take it. He'd let her. He always did, because he knew she would return the favor. And she would. Over and over again.

Just as his words came across the screen, in short sentences, she pushed the laptop off to her side, setting it on the bedspread and let her hands roam her body.

I let my hands run down your body, touching you through your thing pajamas and feeling the goosebumps rise.

You smile at me as your lips ghost over my neck and I concentrate on pulling your shirt off over your head.

You are so beautiful, sitting across my lap, your shirt dropped to the ground, and your pert breasts begging for my mouth to taste them, to suck them, to bite them.

Her breathing became labored as she moved forward and pulled her tank off over her head, giving her hands direct access to her aching nipples. She took them into her hands and twisted the hard nubs and groaned when heat shot through her belly and down between her legs.

My lips descend to your breasts, pulling one hard nipple into my mouth and sucking gently.

I let my hand - the one not tangled in your long, beautiful hair - graze over your stomach before rolling your other nipple between my fingers.

I use my teeth to bite down gently on your nipple, causing you to curse and scrape your teeth against my neck.

The thing she loved about him was the picture he could paint with his words. But she needed more. Now. She reached one hand over and quickly typed with one finger:

I need you, baby.

He always understood.

I push you off my lap quickly, pulling your pants down along with your panties.

I let you unzip my pants and pull out my throbbing cock. You turn around and I pull you down quickly, plunging my cock deep inside your wet pussy.

She groaned aloud as she dropped her hand underneath her pants and found her clit. It was hard and wet and the slightest touch had her panting in pleasure. Fuck, she needed to come. She wanted him so bad.

I pound my cock into you, you pressing down with each of my thrusts.

Frantic to bring pleasure to us both, my hands reach around and rub and pull at your breasts and nipples.

My tongue trails along your spine.

I love the way your ass smacks against my hip bones and I can't stop staring.

She plunged two fingers insider of her quickly, her thumb continuing to rock against her clit. She needed release. She needed it now. She could take her time later.

She didn't type it, but she knew he could feel her when she said, "Make me cum."

I slide one hand down your stomach, scratching the skin and marking it as my own.

My thumb comes in contact with your swollen nub and I press down hard as I slam my cock deep inside of you.

We both scream out as our orgasms take over our bodies.

And she did cum then, her body shaking and stars exploding before her eyes, as her pussy convulsed. Pleasure swept over her and a thin layer of sweat covered her brow. She removed her fingers from her hole, but let her thumb continue to brush over her slick clit, causing her stomach to clench over and over again, with new waves of her orgasm coursing through her.

Finally, she sat back up against her pillow and allowed herself to grab the laptop from the bed, placing it, once again, on her lap.

But he had signed off.

She groaned and closed the lid, before tossing it to the side. "Dammit," she muttered. "I didn't even get to return the favor."

"Well, you can do it next time." She looked up when he walked in the door, completely naked, his cock erect in front of him. He strode towards her with purpose as a feral grin swept over her face. He pulled her pants off of her completely and plunged his cock inside of her dripping cunt.

She cried out and cursed, "Fuck yes."

His eyes rolled into the back of his head when she clenched the walls of her pussy around him. "Did you like that, baby?"

As his hips pushed against her over and over again, she moaned in appreciation. "Let's do it again tomorrow night."

Tension release...

I apologize for the "quick release". I needed to finish before Xan went home. I'll have a better one tomorrow. ;)

-----

Her fingers dug into the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders, but he still wasn't relaxed.

She'd been trying for the last 20 minutes; when the office had cleared out at the end of the work day, she had made the 10-foot walk from her desk to his. They were going to stay behind until he was feeling better. He'd had a terrible day and she wasn't about to let him take it home with him. He wouldn't be able to sleep then, and she knew he needed it with the busy season upon them.

She leaned over and whispered into his ear, her lips a hairsbreadth away from his lobe, "You need to relax." She licked his ear and then kissed the side of his neck.

She heard the breath expel from his lips, but his groan was more frustrated than pleasured. "I'm trying. They just make me so mad sometimes." None the less, he cocked his head to the side and let her lips trail down the expanse of skin there, his 5 o'clock shadow scratching her soft lips.

"I know, baby," she breathed against his jaw. "But we can't take all this frustration home with us now, can we?" Her arms dropped from his shoulders and wrapped around his neck lightly, her hand rubbing his chest and down to his stomach. She licked the corner of his mouth and he turned towards her. She teased his lips with her tongue and pulled back slightly every time he tried to move in to kiss her.

She watched his face loosen up and felt his body relax, even as he pretended to scold her. "How is this supposed to help me relax."

Her grin was feral. "It's not. I have something else planned," she whispered, before kissing him full on the lips. When he tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled back again. He groaned. "Patience, baby."

"I've been trying to be patient all day today," he pouted. "I don't want to be patient for this, too."

She laughed quietly. "Alright, you've made a valid point." She kissed him again as her hands slid slowly down his chest and stomach, the feel of his cotton polo soft under her palms. Her tongue pressed against his lips and his mouth opened, granting her the access she craved and their tongues danced.

Her hands continued south down his body until they covered the bulge in his khakis. He was already hard. "I knew I could count on you, baby," she murmured against his lips. His response was to pull her bottom lip between his teeth and growl.

The simple action and sexy sound pushed her forward, rubbing his cock with deft fingers through his pants. His head tipped back against his leather chair and she moved her lips to his neck again, sucking at the pulse point.

"God, that feels good, baby."

"I can make it better." Her lips whisper against his skin as her hands undo his pants quickly, pushing down the zipper, and then pulling his hard length out and into her hand. His breath hisses out of his clenched teeth and she scrapes her nails over him again.

She grips his cock in her hand and starts stroking him quickly, already feeling his breathing labored and stomach clenching. "I need you to cum for me, baby." Her teeth scrape his adam's apple.

His only response is a long moan of pleasure and she pumps harder and faster. She wants this as badly as he does. "You are so fucking sexy," she says as she nibbles his ear. "I love listening to you moan for me."

"Fuuuuuck." His hand moves from the death grip on his chair, tangles up into her hair, and pulls her head down to his, crashing his lips against hers. As his tongue plunges into her mouth, she grips his cock in her hand, and he cums hard, his prick spasming and emptying onto his shirt.

His breaks their kiss to groan as his orgasm shoots through him and she continues to stroke his weeping cock.

"Dear God, baby," he says as the last of his cum is spent.

She dips her finger into his cum and slips it into her mouth. His eyes watch the movement and he cocks her a smirk. "Feeling better?" she asks.

Grabbing her arm, he pulls her down into his lap and starts unbuttoning her pants. "Yes. Now it's your turn."

When the world stops, we keep on going...

This one is for you, baby.

-----

She turned the knob and pushed the door open as quietly as she could manage. She knew he was sleeping and she didn't want to wake him. It would ruin the entire surprise she had spent the better part of a week working on and perfecting. She'd hate for it to be screwed up now, when she was so close to accomplishing her goal.

She slipped her key - the one he had given her the last time she had been there, much to her delight - from the lock and slid the door closed behind her, hearing the door click into the latch. She toed her flip-flops off at the door and pushed them up against the wall next to his sneakers, took two silent steps to the left and dropped her keys onto the table just inside the door. They made a soft clinking sound as they settled down on the smooth wood.

She stood by the table for a few moments, listening to the silence of the apartment and allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness before taking her first steps from the foyer inside. This was not her first time inside these walls, but she wasn't here often enough to remember exactly where everything was. Even though her eyes were adjusted as well as they could be to the dark, she still missed the edge of the couch and stubbed her toe.

Stifling her cry of pain, she pressed the heel of her other foot on top of her throbbing toes and willed the pain to subside. She was quietly dancing around in a circle on one foot, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pain stopped and she continued, much slower, down the hall towards his room. As usual, the door was closed. She placed her hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and then turned it as quietly as possible.

The door creaked only slightly as she pushed it forward. She pushed it slowly, hoping the slower it opened, the less noise it would make.

She was right.

It took a long time, but she finally got the door opened enough to slip into the room. Not nearly as slowly, she pushed the door shut again. She was happy when the latch clicked and it was the only noise that came from the door.

Her eyes roamed the room, taking in the familiar bookshelf, stuffed full of some of his favorite - and maybe not so favorite - books. A lot of her favorite James Patterson books lined the shelves. She couldn't see the spines in the dark, but she knew them quite well.

She looked past the bookshelf to the art hanging on the walls. Glints of frames were all she could make out, but she knew them as well as the books on the shelves. It may have been a few weeks since she'd been inside this room, but she knew it like the back of her hand.

Finally her eyes fell on his sleeping form, draped across the middle of the bed, his body only covered to the middle of his stomach by a down comforter. One arm was thrown over his face and she could see the outline of his chest rising and falling slowly with his sleepy, even breathing.

She smiled while she watched him for a moment. Not only had it been three weeks since she'd been here, but it had been three weeks since she'd seen him. Not that long ago, three weeks would have felt more like 3 minutes, but that was before they had officially met. After 3 solid months of talking constantly, they had finally gotten the chance to spend some time together.

They had been nearly inseparable since.

Unfortunately, she had had one really busy week, followed by one of his busy weeks, and then a busy week for both of them. It had severely cut into their time together and she couldn't wait any longer.

She wasn't supposed to be here tonight. She was supposed to be coming in after he got out of work tomorrow. And that's when she concocted her little plan. She had needed to see him. There was no way around it. So she had packed up a small bag, which she subsequently left in the car, and left to see him.

The four-hour drive had been long and she'd squirmed in her seat the entire time, barely able to wait for the moment they'd be together again. The added surprise only heightened her excitement.

His arm fell from across his face and she smiled. Reaching up, she pulled the clip from her hair and let the long, curly, brunette waves fall against her back. She shook it gently and then crossed her arms in front of her, grabbing the bottom of her shirt. One quick motion had it up and over her head. She dropped it to the floor.

The cool air of his bedroom caused her exposed nipples to harden quickly and she tried not to moan aloud. She'd have to tell him later how she'd travelled with as little clothes on as possible, just for him. He'd like that.

She unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied out of the quickly, letting them pool at her ankles. She stepped out, completely naked.

She walked quietly forward. She knew he'd had this fantasy and she wanted to make it as good for him as possible - if not better.

When she reached the edge of the bed, she slowly grabbed a corner of the comforter and started to pull it back. She knew he'd be naked underneath and she was happy to see he didn't disappoint.

Once the comforter was removed, she checked to make sure he was still sleeping. His breathing was still even and he hadn't moved a muscle. She wasn't surprised. The man could sleep through a hurricane.

She knew what would wake him up, though.

Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the bed and started to crawl them forward, towards his body. Next her knees came forward, each lifting onto the bed and soon she was straddling his body.

He was still not awake.

Perfect.

Leaning over him, on all fours, she bent her head down, her hair cascading over her shoulder and caressing his face, as she pressed her lips gently to his.

His body shifted slightly as she pulled back, but soon his breathing was back to normal. She smiled to herself. He really was just too adorable. For another moment, she studied the lines of his face, shoulders, and chest. She loved everything about this man. And right now, she wanted to show him just how much.

Leaning down again, she pressed her lips to his again, before sliding her tongue from between slightly parted lips to lick at his bottom lip. She kissed him again, and then licked at his top lip. Her kisses were light, licks feathery, but she knew he could feel it.

His body shifted again and she could feel his cock starting to grow between her legs. He wasn't fully awake, but he was getting there, flirting with consciousness.

She dragged her lips away from his and moved them along his jaw, leaving a trail of soft kisses there, until she reached his ear. She slipped the lobe between her lips and sucked gently, eliciting a small gasp from his mouth. She brought her lips close to his ear and whispered, "Wake up, baby. I have something for you."

His cock was now pressing up against her wet slit and she had to control herself so she wouldn't press back and slide his length inside of her just yet. It wasn't quite time.

She was kissing his mouth again, him barely responding, when one of his hands moved and touched the back of her thigh. His fingers lightly moved up and down the soft skin, causing her lower stomach to clench and a breathy moan escaped her lips.

It had been a long three weeks.

She pressed her lips more fully to his and she felt his lips firm against hers.

It was time.

His cock was already positioned perfectly at her entrance. With one quick push, he slid deep inside of her and they both groaned aloud. She watched his face intently, his eyes still shut, but a look of sheer concentration on his face.

Finally, through gritted teeth, he said, "Yes, baby. Move. I need you."

She needed no more encouragement. His hands went to her hips as she slid her body forward slightly, before pressing back down on his cock again. Each movement was slow and deliberate as she leaned over his body and continued to trail kisses across his skin.

A few minutes in, her movements increased as their breathing increased and moans and groans filled the quiet air around them.

Without warning, his eyes flew open, passion smoldering in the dark brown pools, and his hands tightened into the skin of her hips.

She grinned.

With a smirk and a grunt, he flipped them over effortlessly, pinning her beneath her, still connected. Slowly, his hand made its way down her side, over her hip, down her thigh, cupped behind her knee and then slid over her calf to her ankle. He lifted one leg onto his shoulder and then the other.

His eyes never left hers and that sexy smirk remained on his beautiful lips.

He pushed back on his knees and she watched as he grinned at her. "This was the best surprise ever, baby."

The words were barely out of his mouth before he pulled his cock quickly out of her and then slammed it back in. She whimpered, pleasure shooting straight to her core.

She couldn't respond with words as he continued to pound deep into her pussy. Instead, moans and screams slipped from her mouth as wave upon wave of ecstasy coursed through her body.

She was so close.

One of his hands reached down, caressing her thigh as he did so, and settled between her legs. He pressed his thumb between her lips and found her clit. She gasped as he flicked it. Quickly.

"I'm going to cum, baby," he breathed, his pace quickening slightly and his thumb pressing and flicking against her clit.

She cried out.

"Cum with me." It was a demand.

With one more thrust, she felt the dam break and she tumbled into euphoria with a shout. His came right after and she felt him cum deep inside of her, pushing short thrusts with his hips as his orgasm took over his body.

She was shaking uncontrollably, so much pleasure making her body hum.

He let her legs drop from his shoulders and he collapsed on top of her, kissing her deeply, before sliding off to her side just a bit.

They laid in quiet silence for a few minutes, kissing every now and then, and his hand lazily drawing patterns over her erect nipple. Finally, he lifted his head to look at her and she smiled.

"That was the best surprise." His smile was happy when he said it.

She grinned, her eyes heavy. "I'm glad you liked it. I missed you."

He kissed her nose, and then her lips. "I missed you, too." He wrapped his arm around her waist tightly and pulled her into his side. Their foreheads rested against each other on the pillow. "What would you like in return for that great present?" he asked, stifling a yawn as his eyes closed slightly.

She grinned, her eyes already closed as she started drifting towards sleep. "Surprise me."

I walked with you once upon a dream...

This is for you, Xan. Of course. :)

-----

She pressed her lips to the pulse point in his neck. She tasted his skin while breathing in his scent. It was warm and spicy, both his smell and his taste. She didn't think she could ever get her fill of this man. He was everything she had ever wanted and then some.

Did she even deserve him?

Her fingertips grazed lightly over dark hair spattered across his chest. Her nails scratched at an erect nipple, eliciting a moan from his sensual mouth, before travelling further down his body. She forced her lips to detach from his neck to follow the same trail as her digits.

Every hitched breath, every guttural moan, every whispered plead sent shivers of pleasure coursing down her exposed spine. She wanted this as badly as he did, but she wanted to savor every second of his body, like he had done to her not one hour ago.

She pushed back onto her knees as her lips trailed down over his warm stomach, in search of the hard flesh her hand was currently wrapped lightly around. She couldn't get enough of him. She didn't know if she'd ever be fully satisfied. All she wanted was him. Forever.

Her teeth scraped lightly over his hip bone and she reveled in the way his hips bucked forward, the tip of his erection bumping into her chin. She understood his impatience and need. She had felt it the minute he had started his long discovery of her body, but she wanted just one more moment.

With one final kiss to his lower stomach, she lifted her mouth from his skin and turned her head. Her pink, wet tongue slid sensually from between her slightly parted lips and touched the based on his hard cock. The slight touch sent him cursing and breathing heavier than before, and urged her forward.

She needed more.

Her tongue moved leisurely along the soft, yet rough, skin until she could lick at the precum weeping from his slit. She looked at him from beneath heavy lids and smirked when she locked eyes with him.

"You're torturing me, baby." He could barely speak the words, his breath coming hard and fast. She knew he was holding out, but needed release. She wanted to give that to him.

She watched his face as he watched her lick more precum from his cock. She loved the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his hips rose involuntarily, pressing the head of his dick into her open mouth.

She wouldn't wait any longer.

Wrapping her lips tightly around the head, she let her tongue sweep across the underside, before letting her mouth sink down the length of his cock. With each curse and moan that left his mouth, she sucked harder and bobbed her head just slightly faster, her hand working the base of his cock in succession with her mouth.

It only took a couple of minutes before she felt his body tense and as his shout of, "I'm coming, baby" came, she clamped her mouth around his dick and waited for it.

----

The sound of the alarm broke into her mind and her intense dream. Her arm reached out and hit the snooze button with jostling her body more than necessary and when it came back, snuggled tight against her breast, she willed her mind to fall back asleep, to finish what they had started.

It was, however, no use. The last of her dream was dissipating into the sun streaming through her window like the morning fog does at daybreak. A part of her wanted to cry at the loss, but the other part - the more alert part - told her to wake up and roll over.

When she did, her eyes landed on his face, his half open, and his mouth smiling at her.

"Good morning, baby," he said, his arm reaching across the mere inches that separated them and pulled her closer. "Did you sleep well?"

She smiled.

The soul soars to a beat unheard...

I was talking to my friend Alex today about all the concerts we have seen. She and I actually saw the same concert in two different cities. It was fun to learn that. Anyway, tangent. What Alex and I talked about was making a list of everyone we've seen in concert. So, um, here's my list (in no particular order):

XL - When I was in the 5th grade I saw them at a school tour concert right here in my hometown. I still don't know who they are.

Mandy Moore - This will be the last time you see me admit to this.

Eve 6 - One of the better concerts I've ever been to. I also had really fabulous seats.

98 Degrees - Yes, I went through a phase just like every other hot-blooded teenaged girl.

Jessica Simpson - The woman has chops, I'll give her that much.

John Mayer - That man makes panties drop.

Counting Crows - One of my all-time favorites to-date.

Backstreet Boys - *eyeroll* I know, I know.

Foo Fighters - Kick. Ass. Show.

'N Sync - I'm not going to lie, I was a huge 'N Sync fan the last couple years of high school. I saw them 5 times in concert - twice 3 days apart from each other - and I even followed their limo once like a true fangirl. Stop laughing.

No Authority - Some of the coolest guys I've ever met. No, I'm serious. I drove them back to their hotel one night and we played some stupid car games and had a blast. Literally, cool guys.

Faith Hill - She's so pretty. And has a great voice.

Tim McGraw - Faith is a lucky, bia. Just sayin'.

Brad Paisley - I saw him like 3 times. He's really good in concert, too.

Dave Matthews Band - They top my list of all-time favorite bands. Ever. Live or on disc. Those boys can jam. Holy mother of God, can they jam.

I think there are more... but it's late and I can't really focus on much besides my drooping eyelids.

Before I head to bed, I need to make one last comment: I have a ridiculously overactive imagination. And not in the good sense of the word. I think I need to work on that.

Good night!

Weather the storm...

When I woke up this morning, there was rain splashing off the roof outside and right into my window. Under normal circumstances, one would just get up, close the window, dry the sill and be off.

We should all be fully aware that 'normal circumstances' don't really exist in my world.

The window where the rain was bouncing in is the window directly behind my head where I sleep. My head is level with the sill and I'm almost always right in front of it... unless for some reason my body shimmied towards the wall at some point in the night and those nights are few and far between.

What? I like to spread out! So sue me.

Eventually, I became fully aware of the fact that I was getting soaked, so I got up and shut the window.

Well, I didn't get up per se. I sat up, groggily I might add, and dropped the storm. Yes, the storm. My window is broken, as it has been for the last 10 years, but that's a story for another time.

I absolutely hate when it rains because I always have to close that window. And when my sleep is interrupted, especially due to getting wet and having to actually do some manual labor, even if it isn't something others would consider manual labor, I get fairly upset.

This morning was no exception. I rolled over, sat up, and dropped the storm... all while grumbling, bitching, and moaning. I'm pretty sure a "this fucking window can take a fucking leap" might have slipped out. Yes, that's exactly how much I hate that window.

About the same time I was closing my window, my phone chirped at me. I know it's early, like around 6 AM, and that can mean it's only one person.

I laid back down, picked up my phone, and saw that Xander had sent me an email.

And just like that, ladies and gentlemen, my foul mood dissipated and I smiled. There were only three words in his email, but it was enough to make the rain outside and my annoyance towards my window, to seem like mere blips on my happiness radar. Granted, they were three very significant words, but he could have said, "It's raining, baby," and I still would have smiled.

That's what he does to me. He makes me feel happy, excited, and loved. But, most importantly, he makes me feel. It's been so long since I've really had feelings for someone who wasn't my daughter, and knowing that I've finally found that missing link... it's kind of breathtaking.

Ah, and you're thinking, damnit, Kate, you're a sap. Write about something else! To which, I respond...

I DID! WINDOW!

And then I cried...

I have a track record of dating some real winners.

And by winners, I mean absolute and complete losers.

It's true to say that I have an uncanny knack of finding the one guy who is going to cheat, in a room full of men who otherwise have only admirable intentions. Honestly, I don't even know how it happens. It's like a radar of some sort; an involuntary tractor beam that shoots out from my heart and pulls me right to him.

The thing is, that one guy - henceforth known as 'The Cheater' - doesn't even look like the other men. The other men, all of them being a more suitable match for me, are wearing collared shirts with ties, slacks with pleats, and the occasional penny loafer. Their hair is combed, teeth brushed, bodies toned, and intelligence seems to seep out of every pore in their bodies.

The Cheater? No, he doesn't look a thing like them. He's dirty and grimy, with shifty eyes. His clothes are mismatched and torn; and truthfully, that's only if he felt it necessary to even put a shirt on that day. His greasy hair is sticking out in all directions and the stench of his breath is enough to kill flowers. The Cheater has, most likely, never seen the inside of a gym and I'd be surprised if he could spell the word 'IQ', let alone have one.

How it is I can look past all those 'perfect' men and find The Cheater, I'll never know. Like I said, it's some knee-jerk reaction inside my thoracic cavity that jump starts the entire process. As far as I'm concerned, it's unmediated and thoroughly unwanted.

However, there is good news on the horizon, friends. After a very meaningful and healing 'dry spell', it seems I have finally found the right man - better yet, the perfect man - for me.

Cliched as it may sound, Xander completes the part of me - the empty, hollow part - that I've been desperately seeking a plug for. Although, he is so much more than just a plug.

He's attentive, intelligent, and sexy beyond all reason. He makes me think and explore a part of my mind I may have forgotten existed. He's funny, sweet, and adorable on more levels than I can possibly begin to explain. He gets me; understands who I am, where I'm going in my life, what's important to me, why I do what I do, and how flawed my world really is. He's warm, caring, and makes one helluva Boston cream pie.

But honestly, folks, all of the above took a backseat to three little words. When we finally exchanged them, after much dancing and prancing around them, I knew that my life had finally changed for the better.

He loves me.

I love him.

And really, what is this world without a little bit of love?

Veracity at it's finest...

I despise vegetables.

Of all the vegetables in the world, I would prefer to only eat lettuce (with copious amounts of tasty dressing), carrots, broccoli, and mushrooms. God help you and yours if you bring me a green bean and say, Eat...

When I was only a couple of years old, I fell down the stairs and broke my leg in two places.

I was taking a brownie to my father, who was upstairs recovering from a massive hangover and probably unconscious anyway, and decided to eat it along the way. Greedy little bugger... I had a cast for 7 weeks.

Of course, I don't remember any of this. So, the events leading up to the cast could very well be hear say.

Thus far today, I've tweeted 107 times. Nearly half of those were to Xander, who I was actually IM'ing with at the same time. Do I find this strange? Not in the slightest. It's possible to carry two conversations at once.

Sure, they were with the same person. Semantics.

I actually just nodded off for a moment there. Whoops.

I have a really short fuse at the end of a long cord of patience. My patience levels vary with the person I'm talking to or the project I'm working on. I've found that the more ridiculous a person or project is, the faster my patience is used up. Once it's gone?

Duck and cover.

I have a large vocabulary, intelligence in spades, a sharp tongue, and absolutely no fear of consequence. Volatile? Yes. Watch your back.

That whole last section made me sound a bit like a psycho. I promise, I'm really a nice person.

Just don't fuck with me.

I don't have a ton of time left in my day, so I'm going to end this ramble with one final thought: Third times a charm.

A Walk Through the Notebooks...

Hey there! I'm Kate (or K8 or KT or Katy or... you get the picture). I'll answer to just about anything as long as it isn't derogatory or demeaning. And if you do come at me with such, you'll wish you hadn't. Keep that in mind...

There is so much about me that is just waiting to be discovered. I fear that even a blog of concentrated magnitude could do nothing more than simply scratch the surface of my life, who I am and what I stand for.

How does one explain the inner-workings of themselves fully, without fear of rejection, persecution, hurt, destruction?

When does one draw the line and say, that's too much, too private, nothing I want you to know?

What words can be used to explain the driving force behind ones creative outlets, religious avenues, mundane activites, sleeping habits?

Where will the emotions bubble forth from when ones life is falling apart and there's no one to turn to, except this open space of free-thinking?

Who is going to read the words that were born of countless dreams, endless sacrifices, and truly care about the writer?

I write because it's in my soul. Writing is the one constant in my life, the one thing that has never turned its back on me, even when I turned my back on it many times.

Writing is forgiving.

It's breathtaking.

It's heartbreaking.

It's home.

This space is for me. And me alone.

Nonetheless, you're free to follow.