You make kissing noises at me, from the side there, not really looking at me. I smile and watch your mouth, your lips pressing together, pursing, then opening slightly, you are trying not to smile back at me, your face deliberately and cutely serious, the gentle sucking noise soft and moist and enticing.
“Are you making kissing noises at me?”
You smirk, “Of course, Ma’am!”
I laugh and grab the back of your head and … Continue Reading
There is something about the boys I like, something intangible, something they can’t help in themselves, something unconscious, inviting and irresistible.
I have tried, over the years, to define what it is, to explain it, and have used words like vulnerability, and bravery, and prey, and of those, prey is the closest to describing it, that indefinable ‘it’.
They can’t pretend to have it, there is no kowtowing or genuflecting or ‘acting it out’ … Continue Reading
Thank you to everyone who asked my boy a question in last week’s Sunday Curiosity… it was much fun and we had some interesting discussions about some of it. I struggled with giving up editorial control (a control freak, me?!) – it was quite difficult for me to be comfortable with having another voice here and letting it speak (about me and us) without influence. I did manage to get over it, so his
♦ This Week’s Top Three Posts ♦
The Heart … Continue Reading
We are on Skype having a chat when the phone rings. He is expecting a call, excuses himself, picks it up. I stay online and listen to his end of the conversation, waiting for him to finish. I get a little bored and send him an instant message.
“Say ‘horrendous’.”
He messages back, “Yes Ma’am…”
There is a smile in his voice as he continues his conversation. I can hear him stifling the grin as … Continue Reading
An experiment this fine Sunday…
I know many readers have enjoyed my boy’s writing, and I thought it would be interesting to invite you to ask him questions (actually, it was his idea… soon he will be taking over this blog!). So, if you are curious enough to wonder about him, now’s your chance to prod and poke at him… (c’mere, baby, it won’t hurt a bit…).
To kick this off, I thought I … Continue Reading
I don’t want ‘play’, the pretty, the tools, the toys, the games, the amusement, the cute, the acts, the implements, the controlled, the measured give and take, the things.
I want violence, force and shoving and slapping and tearing at flesh and smashing you to the ground and not giving a fuck about you. I want fear and helplessness and tears and surrender and panic and animal lust. I want growling and screaming and … Continue Reading