Taverns and turn ons

Tonight a friend took Me out to play a little pool, at a local dive bar. My friend Chris is one of those serious players. Mistress plays pool about as often as I go fishing (which I think may have happened at some point, in the past decade). My lady friend chose the locale, as she's a player owning her own custom pool cue, leather case and all...

I felt a bit like a tourist. Bars, drinking, gambling, and mating rituals can be fun to watch, yet regretful in the light of day. And as we both know, there are other ways to feed deep appetites.

I watched her slide on a purple spandex glove, with a few fingers missing (designed to help a player steady the cue, and keeps it smooth). She chalks up the cue, lines her prey. The place has that smell, a bit like a dorm hall. Stale beer had seeped into the carpet regularly. We were left undisturbed for quite some time, and I got to feel a bit inept at the sport, with moments of brilliance mixed in.

After a few games we were approached by two very dark black men, and asked if we'd like to play doubles. Chris and I chat a bit, then say yes. She's used to the rhythms of this, and I'm still watching and learning. I embrace a bit of innocence and discovery, even though these paths are known.

After a game or two, the older man with his skin so deep, like dark chocolate, starts leaning in a bit too close. He smells of many cigarettes and hard liquor. I felt Myself cringe with the scent, yet found his openness, and desire to see how far I'd let him in, curious. I'm open and playful, yet savvy, and before he knows it I've thrown him a couple quick bones of wit that left him slack jawed. Yes, satisfying. Yet I hunger for a playmate that responds in kind. It's sometimes too easy to leave a man breathless.

And just as he realizes there's much more going on under this surface, Chris and I say good evening, and thank you. We beat them at both games, and I feel satisfied.

What would you like to be beat at, dear reader? I'll bet you're just as pretty when breathless...

The bidding of phallic presents

So this is how My perverted mind thinks….

Mistress has a bevy of toys, collected over a few years. Insertables, to be clear. Some are gifts from slaves in the past, or ones bought on a whim. Some of them worked WONDERFULLY (and still do!) and a few were more experimental, and less practical.

One example dubbed the Big Betty, is a 12 inch glass dildo, 2 inches wide, that I barely was able to get inside sugar walls… That one I gave to a friend in need, after an attempt or two at using it (it just wasn't comfy). My friend is a size queen who had just lost her lover (a very tall, well built, black man). Last I heard, Big Betty and she had become very good friends…

Of all the dildos that I enjoy the most, My fave is a very stout black dildo, with lots of pseudo raised veins on the side, for extra sensation. The head of it too makes a pleasing pop of an entrance. Of course, depends on the tightness of the location... (giggle)

Yet what does Mistress do with toys used only a few times, and left to look pretty in My collection, but rarely used? All of them have visited the most personal places of My body, yet only a few are invited to return.

While looking at My garden of dildos today, I had a wild idea!

I've been saving to move from My present abode, and have been packing boxes, cleaning here and there, getting ready to spring forth and find a new nest for Mistress. When people are raising money for a cause, they have bake sales, car washes …

Consider this unique application. To help with the cause of helping Mistress Lily move? I'll auction off the phallic pretties that need someone to play with! Money raised from such a venture will go to the "Helping Ms Lily Move" fund!

Wild concept, I know… What are your thoughts on such a fund raiser? If you're intrigued, I might even let you in on the bidding (and offer perhaps a photo or two!). For more details, write or call Me!