A Tropical Fantasy

I wrote this for Kim before we met. It's still a lovely fantasy.

A Tropical Fantasy

The air was humid and perfumed by the tropical flowers blooming everywhere. She was blindfolded while he led her across bamboo planks. She felt plants overgrowing their borders slap against her breasts and brush against her face and legs. She could hear the thundering of the waterfall growing closer; what did he have planned, she wondered as they continued walking. Through her thin sandals ( the only thing she wore) she could feel the bamboo planks change, the texture wasn't the same underfoot, it was softer. They walked a short way until he said, "Here we are." They were extremely close to the waterfall now; occasionally she felt drops of water splash on her skin.
"Stay here." he told her. I'll be right back. “It felt odd standing naked, blindfolded, and alone outside in this tropical wonderland where she could be seen by anyone who happened to walk by. He grabbed her wrist suddenly and wrapped something cool and thin around it. "Yes this will work nicely," he spoke aloud more to himself than to her. He was tying her hands together with the unusually cool rope, which wasn't nearly as soft as the shiny nylon rope he usually used. In fact, at times, this rope scratched her and it irritated her skin just a bit. He raised her hands above her head, stretching her so that she could barely stand without being on tiptoe. "This is a Kodak moment," he said after a moment, "good thing I brought the camera." He paused long enough to take the pictures then said, "You shouldn't be blindfolded." he took the blindfold off and she blinked in the light.
They were near the waterfall, just as she thought, although somewhat higher than the pond where the water pooled after its descent. She looked upwards. Her hands were bound with thick green vines hanging from the lowest branch of a tree. He was standing beside her, flogger in hand. Playfully he whipped her breasts and between her legs, lightly hitting her backside several times before seriously starting the flogging. She tried to hold still, but as the intensity increased, so did her squirming. The vines held her securely, even when she was scarcely able to stand. The vines rubbed against her wrists, burning, giving her extra reason to try to stay standing still. A few cries escaped her lips. "Breathe," he soothed her, stopping the flogging to administer loving kisses and fondling her. "Focus on the scenery." He kissed her once more before letting loose a barrage of hard strokes that pounded through her entire being. She was getting dizzy now, all the vivid colors of the waterfall and foliage blurring. The water falling echoed loudly in her ears, rhythmically mimicking the sound of the flogger. She couldn’t feel the ground beneath her feet; was she standing or swaying with every stroke? Was she crying? The strokes were slow now, thudding against her skin, but it wasn't the unbearable sting it had been. It was like a lullaby rocking her to sleep. She closed her eyes and her body drooped, sagging against the green restraints.
When she woke up she was lying in his arms on a blanket not far from where he had pleasurably tormented her. He was tickling her nose with a powerfully scented white flower. He smiled at her, sat up and rummaged through a picnic basket. He helped her sit up and opened the bottle of juice he produced from the basket. She was awake now, although a bit lightheaded while she drank. They ate the light lunch they had packed, slowly while talking about their little adventure. After more rest and talk they finally decided to go into the water for a swim. For quite some time they played in the water, swimming and splashing. He climbed out of the water and sat on a rock, watching her gracefully stroking the water. When she realized he had got out, she swam to him. Drops of water were drying on his body. She stood waist deep in the water, standing between his legs. Eagerly she began caressing his member, warming it in her wet hands. Soon she was kissing and suckling him. She grew excited as she felt him growing in her mouth, eagerly awaiting the inevitable release. He was moving now, unaware of anything except the pleasure she was giving him. Soon he could endure the pleasure no longer and his sweet release filled her mouth, warming her while she stood in the cold water. When he had recovered somewhat, he helped her out of the cool water. In silence they sat drying in the sun and cuddling, or talking about nothing in particular. After a while they got up, gathered their things together and returned to the little bungalow where they were staying.

A new story!

Here's a hot number I've just written.
Knife
He watched her furiously typing on the computer. She was still wearing her pajamas, a ragged t-shirt and a pair of baggy, thin flannel pajama pants covered with ducks. Did she know he was standing behind her, watching the curve of her shoulders and the way her hair clung and curled around her neck? He doubted she even knew he existed. He fondled the knife he carried with him everywhere. It seemed eager to be flicked open and used.
She didn’t notice the subtle metallic click. Maybe it was drowned out by the plastic clicking of the keyboard’s keys. In two swift steps, he was across the room, grabbing her hair and holding the knife against her throat. “What are you—“
“Not another word!” he said sternly. Now he had her attention, “Close your eyes.” He saw her cheeks flush. Was she angry because he disrupted her? It didn’t matter. He dragged her out of her seat, knife still pressing lightly against her throat. For a moment, he savored the feel of her warm body against his. Could she feel his dick starting to bulge between the fabrics that separated their skins?
“Keep your eyes closed,” he ordered as he pushed her forward. In the bedroom he found the blindfold. He put the knife down long enough to put the blindfold on. As he was picking up the knife, he noticed the handcuffs on the dresser.
She was cuffed and blindfolded. She was also fully clothed. What next? He pushed her against the wall and traced the blade down her cheek, around the curve of her jaw and ever so slightly poked the hollow of her throat…not enough to make her jump, but just enough to make her gasp. It was delightful. He muffled her mouth with his hand. There was no need to do it, since she wasn’t protesting or trying to get away from him, but it turned him on even more than he was before. He ran the knife over her t-shirt. Her nipples were awake and a prime target for poking and scratching with a sharp object. She cried out when he tapped her right nipple with the knife’s tip. He smiled and wondered if she was as turned on as he was.
He watched as the knife slid easily down her torso. It was almost as if the knife had a life of its own and his hand was merely the vehicle as it circled her belly and the roundness of her hips. He held the back of the blade between her legs. “I should make you fuck the knife.” He whispered to her. He could feel the heat between her legs, even through the flannel bottoms. “Hump it,” he ordered her. It was a small blade, but she was eager to please and more than likely terribly horny at this point.
He abruptly removed the knife and took his hand away from her mouth. It was time for something different. He grabbed a handful of the t-shirt and slashed it. The fabric tore easily. She gasped. Clearly she couldn’t believe he ripped her shirt. He grabbed another section of fabric and slashed it. This was fun! Soon, bits of flushed skin were peeking out from the t-shirt. He took his time, widening tears and slashing the fabric. She had stripped for him before and he had undressed her, but nothing compared to this. Slashing through the flannel pajama bottoms was a bit more difficult, but once the slashes were made, they tore easily. He cut the waistband and ran the knife down the fabric on the inside of her leg. It was like opening a birthday present. He ran the blade up her leg, leaving a faintly red scratch. He did the same thing on the other leg. He was savoring the feel of her skin, her scent, her arousal as the blade now touched her bare, intimate skin. He stepped back and took a look at her. Her face was flushed, as was what he could see of her chest. The shirt looked like something a girl would have worn in the ‘80s. He quietly put the knife on the ground. He savagely started tearing her shirt with both hands, tearing away the sleeves and opening the shirt until it was nothing more than a used rag discarded on a heap of other used rags.
The knife was in hand again, tracing her body, leaving red designs in its wake. At times he poked her, just to make certain she wasn’t bored. It occurred to him that her back side had been completely ignored. He pushed away the pile of cloth around her feet and turned her around. The knife now had a blank palette. He poked at the very sensitive skin behind her knees. It was obviously taking all she had to not move, kick him, laugh, or scream out as he poked and scratched that area. The knife made a beeline to the sweet spot where her ass and legs met. He stood against her, the knife digging ever so slightly in her skin. He knew she wanted him to cut her. He also knew she wouldn’t be able to stand much longer. The point of the knife traced the outline of her cuffed hands, her spine, and the pattern of her hair around her shoulders. Again and again he let the knife leave its mark. Sometimes it glided quickly; at other times it dragged languidly, creating a more complex design.
He moved her to the bed and forced her legs wide apart. Her pussy had been rather neglected ever since he had stripped her. He used the blade to shave away what little stubble existed in her bikini area. He gently poked at her clit, smiling at her cries and moans.
The knife was pointed at her throat. He told her that if she moved, she’d stab herself; she better be careful, he warned. He got off the bed and took a good look at her. He could tell she wasn’t in the most comfortable position with her hands behind her back, but she was obviously more focused on the knife.
He grabbed a sword and a toy knife in his closet. She recognized the sound of the sword being taken out of its sheath. “You’re going to fuck my sword,” he told her, well aware of the double-entendre. He took the knife from her throat and laid the long sword on her body. The blade was nearly as long as her torso. She shivered from the cold weight. He could see that she was wondering if he was serious.
The sword was more unwieldy than he had hoped it would be. He was able to position it so she could feel the point ever so slightly touching her pussy. He grabbed the toy knife. It looked fairly real, but it wouldn’t be able to cut melted butter. He quickly plunged it deep into her and began fucking her hard with the knife, as hard as he really wanted to fuck her, but it would have to wait. She screamed out, “You’re fucking me with that sword? It’s going to cut me!”
He calmly replied, “But, it’s only a toy.”

Busy. Very busy

The last few months have been insanely busy. The trip to Germany was so amazing. I could talk about the food and scenery nonstop for days. Anyhow, now it's busy at work, so maybe I'll write more later.

Today's Thought

It is enough that I have a roof over my head
To protect me from the weather.
It is enough that I have clothes to protect
My skin and shoes to protect my feet.
It is enough that I have food to fill my stomach
And drink to satisfy my thirst.
It is enough that I have friends and family
To fill me with joy and contentment.
It is enough that I have teachers and mentors
To show me examples and wisdom.
It is enough that I have my health and senses
So I can be filled with wonder and awe.
It is enough.

In Memoriam: Joe Lawrence, my cousin

I didn't know Joe well...perhaps not as well as I should have. All I really know is that my family has lost a wonderful kid filled with lots of potential. He was definitely a fun kid who knew how to live life. I know that whatever is out there beyond this life, that those who went before are rejoicing to be reunited.
Kim, please show Joe a good time...I know Grandpa and Grandma and Carrie are all there to show him around, but You know how to have fun;)
Here's the obituary that ran in the Tribune today. It's so strange to lose a family member who is so much younger than oneself.


Joseph William Lawrence 4/21/87 ~ 7/17/05 Our beloved Joe has returned home to our Heavenly Father from a tragic boating accident. Born April 21, 1987, the youngest of eight children. His hobbies included mechanics, frisbee golf, four wheeling, snow boarding and spending time with his family at Granny's ranch. His favorite toy was his truck. If anything needed to be fixed or a project needed another hand, Joe was there to help which was a blessing to his family and friends. He loved working with his family at the shop. A member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Joe is survived by his wonderful parents: Kelly and Rita; brothers and sisters: Rae Dawn and Jeff Titcomb; Heath, Aubrey, Asher and Halle; Tyler, Polly and Ethan; Taylor; Travis; Krista and Mike Watts; Robbie; Grandparents: Melvin and Wilma Morrison; Charlene Lawrence; many aunts, uncles and cousins. Joe's family wishes to thank the family and friends for their love, support, time and resources in finding Joe. A heart felt thanks to the Utah County Sheriff Search and Rescue and other agencies. Funeral services will be held Saturday, 11 a.m. at the Valley Park 2nd Ward, 5233 South 3200 West. A viewing will be held Friday, 6-8 p.m. at McDougal Funeral Home, 4330 South Redwood Road and Saturday at the church, 10-10:45 a.m. prior to service. Interment, Taylorsville Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Utah County Sheriff Search and Rescue, 3075 North Main, Spanish Fork, Utah 84660. You will always be in our hearts. We love you, Boosta! Published in the Salt Lake Tribune on 7/21/2005.

128 lbs "stout?" wtf!

In the stars' summer shape-up issue of TV Guide (June 19), cover girl KELLY RIPA weighed in on the subject of how she keeps her glam figure. During the conversation, the "Live with Regis & Kelly" host commented on her high-school weight, and her words have caused an uproar among fans."
TV Guide was surprised that we had such a large reaction from readers," says ALI GAZAN, associate writer for the weekly magazine."Anytime we can fill a whole 'Letters' page on one article, it is a huge response."The exact quote from the magazine is: "But back when she was a big-haired high school cheerleader, the 5-foot-4 blond clocked in at128 pounds. 'That was a fun weigh-in for cheerleading,' Ripa jokes. 'I was stout. I had four legs, including my two upper arms.'"
Since the issue hit the newsstand, TV Guide has been inundated with people writing in to say that 128 pounds is not a bad weight for a woman of Kelly's height and they feel she was promoting a negative image for young girls.
"One reader said that 128 pounds at 5-foot-4 isn't bad at all," Ali explains. "In fact, it is normal, but she also says that Kelly does have a personal chef and that is probably how she keeps her weight down.
"We had another reader who said that even though Kelly felt this way and said she had a great body from pushing around her kids, it had alot to do with good genes, which is also true."
Obviously, this is a hot button issue, and Ali adds that young girls need to keep in mind that while Kelly felt stout at that weight, it doesn't necessarily mean that they are stout if they have the same stats.
"Kelly is in Hollywood and they have different standards than we do,"Ali points out, "There is a little more pressure to feel thin in Hollywood."

And here is my initial response: WTF???????!!!!!
And here is my more thought out response:
WTF???????!!!!!!!! But then again, I believe Regis' wife, Joy wears a size 0. I seem to recall her saying one time years ago that after the holidays one year she actually went all the way up to a size five (gasp!).
The problem with saying "Hollywood had a different standard" (and I believe the show comes from New York) is that the "standard" has bled into mainstream/ small-town America. I got to a point where I was watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer on a fairly regular basis. I discovered that the more I watched it, the worse I felt about me. Whereas the episodes of Xena I watched made me feel good about myself (let's face it, Lucy Lawless had an amazing, strong, muscular body...it wasn't a willowy, whispy thing). She really has an almost anti-Hollywood look.
I hope that it's only a matter of time until the media on both coasts start to realize we want to see women who look like us and share our struggles and passions (i.e. plus sized people aren't always focused on their weight). Of course, perhaps part of the problem lies within ourselves and our community; perhaps because far too many of us tune in to those shows and buy the products that are advertised during those shows we become a part of the silent, approving majority. Someday I hope to see a voluptuous, curvy gal on Desperate Housewives beguiling all their love interests.

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