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August 2, 2011

It's Me Again Margaret...

So. It’s hotter than a motherfucker outside and I don’t want to live here anymore. I’m tired of being iced out of the office for 4 days because people can’t deal… and then going outside and having my face melt off because it is literally 110-120 degrees NOT COUNTING THE HEAT INDEX. And for those of you saying, yeah, but it’s a ‘dryyyyyyyy’ heat… fuck you. I don’t care if I am in a rainforest, and it’s a “weeeeeet” heat. It’s hot. I’m a delicate, unique, hothouse flower… a super special snowflake and this shit is crazy.

I just got back from Orlando and I was staying at the Hilton. The smoking area outside of the bar had gas fireplaces that were about 2 feet wide and ran about 10 feet long. Um, it is hot. We don’t need the fire on. THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

While I was packing for Orlando, Nugget was over at my apartment trying to distract me with his naked guitar playing and those legs, good Lord. Yes, it worked. Whatever. I (finally) got packed, but I found my perfect little purse from back in 2007. You guys remember, yes? The perfect little purse? The little black crappy vinyl purse that met several requirements: 1) have a zipper for safety, 2) have enough room for phones and smokes, 3) have a detachable strap for laziness and 4) be cheap enough that I wouldn’t give a shit if it got destroyed in a party foul moment. Well I normally keep this little purse under the driver’s seat of Samantha (my car… keep up) and I went and snagged it for the packing.

When I opened it up to make sure the little chain/strap was still in the interior zippered pocket I found one of THESE…
A No.7 smokeless e-cigarette in Blueberry. Guess who is smoking in their cube right now? That’s right bitches! Anyway, as I MAY have mentioned above, it is too freaking hot to be outside. Currently 109, NOT KIDDING. Yes, I have a cute little patio, yes, I have a fan, yes I go through about 3 gallons of water a day, but damn, just to have the pleasure of a smoke outside is not pleasurable anymore. Until, it cools down.

It’s so hot that people are going a bit crazy. The web specialist guy came around my cube a little while ago for the second time and politely knocked on the wall, “It’s me again…” he started. I drawled, “Hello, Margaret.” From the other side of the cube I heard a small snicker… so I proceeded… “are ya nekkid?” More laughter from other side of cube and a shocked look from web specialist dude.

Clearly NOT a Ray Steven’s fan, this web specialist.

I thought it was funny.

August 4, 2011

WARNING: I'm Working Blue on This One. NSFW?

“Knock, KNOCK!” he yelled as he opened the door. “In here!” she yelled, walking into the kitchen from the back of the house. He smiled and his eyes brightened as she smiled back and walked towards him, arms flung out wide for a hug. “Hey, baby,” she said. He wrapped her in his arms and whispered against her hair, “Hi yourself.” He squeezed her and she melted into him noticing, not for the first time, how they fit so perfectly. Not too tall, not too short… kind of like Goldilocks and her porridge… just right.

As not to get distracted and do what she had wanted to do for years, she untangled herself from his arms, pressed a brief kiss along the corner of his mouth and said brightly, “What would you like to drink?” She went to the fridge and the liquor cabinet, opening both and rattling off the contents of each like an auctioneer. He chose something easy and she joined him with a beverage.

Turning on the stereo they briefly talked about their day and the weekend ahead. Leaning with their elbows on the marble of the tall island kitchen, talking with laughter and good natured banter she felt herself unwind and watched his face as a slow blink took his eyes. She always felt so relaxed around him. He knew her, knew her mind, her heart, she didn’t have to play chameleon to anyone, she could just be herself. And she knew he felt the same way. That slow blink said loads to her as she watched his body language for cues. He was relaxing and letting down his guard.

He took a long pull on his drink and finished it. She asked, “Another?” and he nodded. She went to the fridge to grab him another drink and he came around the corner of the island, leaning a hip against it, the empty bottle of his beer dangling from his fingers. He crossed his arms and then his legs at the ankle and said, “Hey.” She looked up, “Yeah?” “C’mere.” She smiled a little private smile and went to him, grabbing his empty beer bottle and throwing it in the trash she turned and was suddenly in his arms.

He slid his fingers around the back of her neck, resting his thumbs along her jaw line, he pulled her head away from his own for a moment and just looked at her. Smiling he pulled her in for a kiss and her arms wound around his body to rake down his back. He kissed her hard, moving her head to the right and then to the left as if however he kissed her, he still wanted more. His tongue pressed against hers, stroking, and his teeth nibbling at her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth and let her head fall back, he kissed along her neck and into her ear, “I love you.” And he called her by her full name.

It was a pronouncement. They had told one another that they loved each other for a long time. But for the past few years it had meant more and more with each passing day, each big argument that they conquered and then moved past. Each new thing they learned about each other. The words, I love you, meant more and more. She paused, pulled her head back and ran her fingers through his hair, making sure his eyes met hers before she replied, “I love you too.” And she called him by his full, God-given name.

She had always been a big proponent of tell those you love, regardless if it is friendship love, family love, just lusty love or true love… tell those you love that you love them. Often. Don’t let a moment pass that you could have told your best friend from high school or your brother, “Hey, I love you.” Because you never know when it may be the last time they hear it. He, on the other hand, never said anything to those he cared about unless he meant it. He would not promise something that he knew he couldn’t live up to.

This wasn’t just some reassurance type of comment for either of them, this was a “Hey, look, you mean the world to me; I love you for who you are, who you have been and who you are yet to be. I love you not in spite of your flaws, but sometimes because of them. I love you and I am going to be here for you when the time is right, when we can truly do right by one another, I love YOU. You are my heart.”

He kissed her again, she kissed him back. They laughed and kissed some more. He ran his little wicked tongue over the inside of her upper lip, she grabbed his ass. They talked of what they wanted to do, but they never wanted to cross the line. They wanted to wait until the time was right and there was only them. Just the two of them, when no one else matters.

Emotions run high between them… one minute they are singing along to a song, talking about remember whens, the next minute as she is bending over looking through the contents of the fridge that he steps in behind her. She feels him a moment before he presses into her backside, his hands finding her hips, turning up her ass and arching her back. “No fair”, she mumbles, pouting, knowing that HE knows what a turn on that is for her. So she turns it back on him. She presses back into his crotch and rolls her hips, grinding into him in time to the music. He groans and she mock whispers, “I win.”

They start playing the, “Guess what I wanna do to you?” game. They have been playing it for years, starting out slowly, telling, teasing and walking that thin line between what is appropriate and what isn’t. This particular evening the gloves come off. He tells her in hushed tones while looking straight at her what he wants to do to her, how often, where, in what position and how badly he wants this physicality to manifest. They have walked this line for a long time, the banter getting increasingly bawdier. They never wanted to cross that line to ruin their friendship or hurt each other in any way. However, at hearing his confessions, she (aroused) let’s her mouth open and all of the things she wants to do to him fall out in a rush that is as embarrassing as it is exhilarating.

She knows his buttons and he knows hers. One of the benefits of being buddies for so long is that they’ve talked about their previous sexual experiences with each other. They dissected what worked, what didn’t, what drove them absolutely to the brink of insanity as well as their insecurities.

He knows her kink, she knows his buttons, and they aren’t as far apart in their wants and needs. It is almost too good to be true.

He notices her not watching his mouth (as she normally does, or his eyes and hands) but with her gaze fixated on the zipper of his jeans. He asks her, “Do you want this?” as he gestures to his groin area then runs a hand across the zipper. She moans softly, and just nods, words have escaped her.

She wants to see him handle himself. He is a little embarrassed, but she knows that his weak point is a blowjob, she drops to her knees in front of him and whispers, “Just a peek, just a taste, just a little….” He admits, “You’re killing me, you KNOW I can’t go for just a little anything where that is concerned. I’m helpless…” He sighs then says, “Fine.” He takes his hands away, putting them on his hips; she looks up a slow blink later and says, “Feed it to me.” A shuddering breath runs out of him as he undoes his belt, lowers his jeans, untucks his shirt and pulls his cock from his pants, offering it to her. She leans forward and licks around the tip of him, then the underside of his shaft then slipping the whole thing in her mouth. She hears him draw in a breath and the next moment over the stereo Stevie Ray Vaughn’s version of Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child” thrums through the air. She rocks back on her heels, locks her arms around his waist and gives herself over to the music and the feel of him in her mouth. He takes her head and thrusts into her mouth and deep throats her so her eyes water. She grabs the shaft of him and pulls back, running the tip of him over her wet lips, looking up at him with tears in her eyes and his cock in her hand.

He moans, “Oh God.” And she stands up. He grabs her and leans her over the island. He pulls her jeans up tight on her ass and begins to spank her relentlessly underneath her ass, he is using almost the same tempo she was using on him and her ass is stinging, she rewards him with small yips and gasps. They both know that they are coming teeteringly close to the edge of no return. They have never had intercourse and this was building up to an amazing bubble of opportunity. He steps away and they both laugh with relief.

Straightening his shirt, his pants and everything else he is shocked when she whips his belt out of the loops. FAST. His eyes grow large and she steps behind him and starts giving him licks with the end of the belt, small stinging smacks, in the same sweet meat spot underneath his ass. He stays completely still and when she comes to herself, almost like coming up for air. She shakes her head and tries to give the belt back, but can’t resist a small slap with the end of the belt against his nipple.

It startles them both and he asks again. She knows the edge is there, she knows she could top him, she knows he could top her… that he is a switch, can take or be taken is almost too much. She shakes her head, beads of sweat popping out along her hairline, she said, “No… take it, please, God. Take it.” And hands out the belt to him. He leaves his hands at his sides, and says, “No, go ahead, do it. I want you to.” She hears a voice that she doesn’t recognize as her own say, “Fine… Beg Me.” He does, and she complies. She flogs him through his thick golf shirt like it was the most normal thing in the world to smack his nipples with his own belt. She stops, hands over the belt and says, “We have to stop NOW.” He agrees.

They profess their love for one another again and talk about this new level of compatibility.

Is it meant to be?

They have all the time in the world to find out.

About August 2011

This page contains all entries posted to Suzanna Danna in August 2011. They are listed from oldest to newest.

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