Trois Done Differently

A few weeks back i saw the  prompt for Wicked Wednesday was about Three Ways.  What a hot topic and all but impossible to pass up.   So of course weeks later i’ve got this post as close to right as I can.
As a young man a three way was a notch i wanted on my bed post as soon as i learned the term “ménage à trois”.  And for the times and my age was not surprisingly a quick study. I got that notch on the bed post, the merit badge, and did post graduate studies on the matter.
Sure I could tell stories about three ways. Ot one i woul like to have. Let’s  face it at this point in life a three way sex scene is either a made for tv movie scene, something you see on a crime show, or punch line in a comedy. Unless of course you’ve actually had them.
Instead let’s look at the three way in terms of kink and the relationship between Me, Alice, and Lord Raven. In case you’re new to this little perverted corner of cyber space Raven and Alice are married, she wears his collar and all the other DS trappings that go with such an arrangement (of course i mean that in the nicest possible way) Chips dips chaims and whips…or paddles and floggers and wartenberg wheels oh my.  Anyhow.
Then there is me…the third piece of the puzzle.  It is a unique arrangement…Alice and I knew each other before her and Raven. Which in a waybis a huge fuck you to my Kindergarten teacher whobsaid i was “unwilling and in capable of sharing”.  Yep good old Mal was a pre negotiated arrangement into the relationship which is something iam grateful for.  And as complicated and dangerous as it may sound it works perfectly.  Neither LR or me are the possive type.  Often when I’m going to be around I check schedules with him before Alice and adjust my plans when possible  accordingly.
Inside of a scene being an obsessive planner we’ve discussed “the plan”  and being the evil fucks we are have been torturing Alice long before the actual play starts.  It’s ok she (for the most part) loves it.wait three ways are about sex right?  To which I say not always. In fact ours is about friendship and certianly kink but not necessarily sex and only sex..
Granted none of this is a typical three way.  It is more than folks just having a wanton fuck…not that there is anything wrong with that. Yes we (LR and I) co top scenes and have a very natural rythm between both of us and Alice.  She loads his mind with wants and desires. In some cases they are filtered to me and like a good studious well planned sadist her fantasies and dark desires are brought out when least expected.
Now for the really tricky  part Alice tolerating my other relationships. The Blonde who is my wife she will express her thoughts on when i need it.  It is always done with the best of intentions and out of concern for me.  It works wonderfully in that case.  The others as they come and go in my life as they seem to do from time to time evokes a bit of jealousy and concern.  She’s protective of me and part of what makes this all work is the communication.  Our little three way husband, wife, and evil fucker.  Master, Sub, and sadist by proxy.
So a few words of explanation about my use of the word Jealousy.  It evoked a reaction in Alice as i had her read this prior to posting.  This is an unusual practice for us.  The intention in using the word is in reference to the fact I know and acknowledge at times despite being unwavering in her support for me that she is disappointed that all of us don’t get more time together and i acknowledge I am the cause of that. So while i’ve chosen to leave the intial wording in the previous paragraph her reaction isnout of hope amd love amd desire fornwjat is best for me.
Nothing is ever perfect but our arrangement works for us.  Our nontraditional take on non traditional arrangements.  Its something that in ways shapes and forms i’ve found myself in time and again.  But there are unique challenges to every arrangement.  I am a quirky over committed, type A.  And that is before you add in my bad qualities.  So for one reason or another they end. Friends are lost, interests change, i fuck  things up or a million other things.
The reason it has worked  with Alice amd LR as long as it has is we’re friends outside of kink. We are friends one in one and as a group. We understand each others strengths and for me they understand my complicated life and limits.
So not a traditional three way. Trois done differently as if you’d expect anything different.
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

The Clueless Top and the Sexy Little Dutch Girl

For those of you I’ve told this story to feel free to skip the post. Still I thought it was funny enough to share for the rest and the random reader who may wonder by. I’ve been meaning to write more about my travels, and there are a few posts in the works that center around the journeys and friendships that are a bit more poignant. Plus I make myself out to be less of a bumbling fool. This however is not one of those.
Occasionally I can be a cheap fuck. It doesn’t happen often but even I get sticker shock once in a while and after my first visit to Holland which was comprised of a €300 black car service one way, a series of meetings where no one wanted to talk to me that was followed by checking into what might have been one of the best hotels I’ve ever seen at a bargain rate of €111 with tax included. With a day that went from one end of the spectrum to the other dinner could have gone any way. In fact my prearranged dinner companion had to cancel which left me to my own devices rather than in the Red Light district where she had planned to “show me the whores.” For the record she is a vanilla friend with no idea of how I live but when asked why she would want to do that I was told “that to not do so would be like going to Paris but not seeing a museum and eating in a café.”
So with no plans other than catching up on work laid out for me I stood in my room looking out over the beautiful countryside glimpsing the occasional windmill, the green grass, empty highways and what looked like a UFO that had landed a few blocks away but was in fact a gas station and mini mart. In all fairness I was smitten with the country, in fact that may be an understatement. It was beautiful, clean beyond an American’s wildest dream. Forget that everyone I met was beautiful, tall, or impossibly thin; many of them were all of the above. They all lived on what seemed to be a never ending supply of espresso. The hotel itself was like I died and went to a high end furniture store, granted my own personal style in decor is very Scandinavian and minimalist. The only thing missing was a companion to share the massive rain fall shower or the giant tub not to mention the view from the bed with.  The place made even Vegas luxurious glitz look cheap and tawdry.
With the day winding down and only having had coffee and what the airline fed me that morning it was time to eat. Eating alone is a rare treat when State side, abroad is a different matter. It is often the norm as people seem to have a better work life balance. I looked at the room service menu. The thought of Pizza again killed me, nothing else sounded good. Then I saw it, a Hamburger with fries. Quickly tallying the price in dollars it came out to $60 U.S. Well folks that is when the sticker shock hit me. Instantly I decided to walk to the Mini mart.
Down the elevator, through the posh lobby, past the masses of beautiful people not too cheap to eat at the hotel. Highway robbery I thought, spend it like it’s my own money I thought. I rarely go over the top but also rarely deny myself anything either. So there I stood surrounded by huge metal walls that encircled the gas pumps and building, their blue lights flashing and pulsating. It was not a pedestrian friendly entrance. Once inside the building housing the mini mart seemed like everything else in the country, clean, well lit and organized and then I spotted it. A woman probably in her 60’s was behind a huge pane of thick bullet proof glass. It caught me a little off guard I was in a perfectly lovely place so why the war zone protection? I wondered through the store my clothes screaming “FORGIENER”, my shoes alone outed me as not a local as they were far too round and clunky to belong to anyone there, my suit was cut nowhere near thin enough. So if the glass wasn’t enough the woman behind it didn’t speak anymore English than I did Dutch.
So as I pointed to my desired item under her control she did her best to understand my asks by I assume asking me if that is what I wanted in her native tongue. It is a bit embarrassing to say I literally didn’t speak a word, Not a please or thank you, not a yes or no. After a few very awkward moments where I’d have gladly taken anything edible but not quite to the point of wanting a $60 burger or settling for merely a candy bar in walked a beautiful strawberry blonde woman. Soft white skin, just enough freckles on her pretty face to complete the look, her long curly reddish tinged locks were flowing with each brisk stride. Within moments the problem was solved as she translated for me. We continued to chat as I thanked her. Was she flirting with me, a touch on the arm, a smile, and questions about my plans during my stay, a few giggles?
There was the moment when I thought of asking her to join me for a drink. It was somewhere between answering questions she had about the U.S. We walked out and stood in the warm night air and talked a few moments longer. She was beautiful, maybe mid 20’s, her English was perfect with only a slight hint of an accent. Sometimes you can just tell. She would have said yes, yet I paused, politely thanked her for her help and walked back out of the UFO with a small out of this world experience into the darkness and toward the hotel. Later while staring at the sky I wondered what might have happened if I had asked her for a drink. Guess we’ll never know.

Six hours later after falling asleep watching the Big Bang Theory on what had been labeled the Disney channel (mainly because it was the only thing I could find in English) I woke up to what amounted to girl on girl porn. After the panic subsided that I had rolled over on the remote and ordered an in room adult movie (not that the title shows on the bill…or so I’ve heard). And since when did girl on girl porn scare me anyhow. Fucking jet lag! Turns out instead of bad infomercials for weight loss programs they show ads for sex services. A huge improvement if you ask me.

Sometimes the best of us are not smooth, or confident, or even looking to flirt or sure if we are being flirted with. So in addition to saving 54 dollars I can now claim to have almost maybe had a chance to pick up a beautiful Dutch girl. Maybe not a notch on the proverbial bed post but a far better story than room service would have provided. All I wanted was a sandwich which was obtained but as the saying goes one can’t help but wonder “what we left on the table”. Perhaps when it comes to bad sex the worst kind you can have is the kind you never tired for.

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Wicked Wednesday

If You Give a Sadist a Stick

If you give a sadist a stick you might just make him smile. As he day dreams of hitting things for quite a long long while.
While the stick may seem so simple, a harmless little toy. But odds are he will stripe your bottom and your protests will fill him full of joy.
He might love to watch you struggle bared flesh goes from white, to pink, to red. Then hot, and nasty and very, very dirty thoughts all rush in to his head.
Now you’re marked so nicely but he add a few more whacks. Then he said “these are from Alice” and adds on 5 extra firm and stingy smacks.
Soon enough its over and endorphins mix with pain.  You say that you don’t like it but your pussy betrays all words to the contray that were said utterly in vain.
As you stay there panting, wondering if it’s done. A hard cock enters you and try really earnestly to not instantaneously cum.
Pumps and thusts combined with pinches and just a few more licks. The pace begins to quicken as you focus on the feeling of his dick.
A lone hand starts to wonder and then you start to shake. Modesty and reserved decorum all fade and are lost in your orgasm’s cosmic wake. 
His moment has arrived and he fills you up with cum. But when he is finished “don’t you dare move i’m not quite done.”
The mind will race and ponder what is your remaining fate. “You need one to grow on” and the stick bites your ass one last time despite all the protests that you make.
And the moral of the story is one should be very careful when they give a sadist a stick no matter its orginal intended purpose.

Wicked Wednesday

Things a Top might think but never say

Wether as a friend, lover, and or play partner we may not always say what we think in the moment. Recently I admitted to being typically very reserved joking that is a bit ironic for a sex blogger in the very same breath. Yet a significant amount of time is spent reflecting on events afterwards. Conversations that may be seemingly passing will stick with me for years if not infinitely.   Then when appropriate will share those here.  So with adequate preamble now in place….
Things a Top Might think but Never Say.
1) That the tan lines on the top of your thighs and framing your hips that give way to your sexy little white butt give may give said Top all kinds of ideas that are  far beyond purely wicked.
2) The, moans, protests,  grunts, name calling, and even cursing often through clenched teeth  work in ways our face may never reflect. Be assured we are grinning like the devil even if you can’t see it.
3) The seemingly innocuous hand laid gently on  somewhere while the wickedness ensuses is a non verbal clue of the connection that is being felt as well as a way of gauging your enjoyment.
4) Knowing that you are turned on is only adding fuel to the fire…though you might never guess that based on the stoic reaction.
5) Watching you twist and srruggle is really hot even if the words may be to the contrary.
6) Have you ever seen Snoopy dance in Charlie Brown cartoon?  If only in our minds we’re that happy and excited every time you want to play, we get to help you live out a fantasy,  or see you tremble just a touch at the thought of what might happen.   Though you’d never know it from our stone clad demeanor and bodies clad in black.
7) We like hearing from you and not just about kink and sex…though that is fine too. It is a two way street and yes we think of calling or texting more often than we do. 
8) Knowing a moment is special is important. Realizing later how truly unique late is humbling….even for us.
This was written before I saw the prompt and is based on a recent wonderful experience and things that often cross my mind in general. Not sure any of it is very wicked but this is the place I most often use to communicate my thoughts on life, relationahips,  sex and kink. It serves me well after the fact but odds are you’d get the same answers sitting across the table or lying in bed next to me…just not as refined or reflective.  I could go on but you get the idea…even tops think things we may never say. Though if asked or given the opportunity are happy to talk about it.

Wicked Wednesday

What I Learned as a Demo Body

So being the new and improved Malflic I ignored the clamoring around me for other things and actually went out to an event mainly to see some old friends who it’s been far too long since I’ve seen.  The purpose was as much social as anything but I planned to pick up a few new wicked ideas along the way from the second half of the day.  This year the real goal is to take my rope from decorative to more restraint, well that and really focus on truly learning.
As is often the case with me I went partner less (there is a plan/offer in place to fix this so don’t shed any tears for me), which for this particular event was fine since one wasn’t required plus I got to have different experience than usual.  As we sat there the young lady next to me was also in the same situation.  The talk on basic single column ties began and after quick introductions I offered a wrist for her to practice on a few times and then she returned the favor.
It was quickly evident she was a nice person, a little quiet with a cute smile, but most importantly I could tell she really wanted to learn to tie.  Being a person who doesn’t always have a person to practice on it was an easy decision. I offered my arms for the next few hours so she could do what we all do when we learn bondage,  do it, do it again, figure out when to draw what tight, what’s too loose etc.  Rinse and repeat.
As a Top I’ve always liked rope but often joked I’m not a purist and have used a mix of natural fiber and synthetic MFP.  In my case it was often a color and diameter choice based on who I was tying up and what I doing, adornment had been the main goal. Rope for pain or restraint has only been part of a larger scene (forced orgasms anyone?).  And sure I’ve tied cuff after cuff and column after column on myself as practice over the years. My home office chair has a safe word but I know all too well it doesn’t always translate exactly on another person’s body (Oh my god I’m touching someone new, sorry about the rope in eye, etc) but the basic muscle memory and movements are there.
After a bit more up close instruction it was on to two column ties, wrist to wrist eventually leading to wrist to thigh this led to one of the things I learned.
Next up was the second half of the outing and after a few demos and discussions the evil top in me saw the real value of a nice ass hook for the first time. Oh and thumb tacks I need to add thumb tacks to my bag.   The session came to the point where people were supposed to practice.  I turned to my new friend and asked if she knew how to tie a chest harness, no sense in just sitting there idle.  Once again I provided the body and a friend who rigs professionally provided the step by step instruction.  I’ve never had another person tie a chest harness on me.  So there I was at an event I’d never been to before, with a few friends, a few acquaintances and a room full of people letting someone I just met learn to tie on me.
So what did l learn?
1)      There really is a huge difference to the feel and quality of rope.  Sure I can tell to a degree as it passes through my hands and in how it lays but its different when it’s against your skin. Sure I knew there was a difference but didn’t realize the full extent.    I may like the look of MFP in decorative stuff and pictures but it’s annoying when it’s tied on you.  No more MFP unless at a public event with people I don’t know or the bottom asks for it.
2)      It’s not news that I’m not a physically flexible person but when going from double column ties on the wrists to not side by side body parts that I can’t do wrist to calf let alone ankle without doing an hour of yoga first. (In retrospect I could have sat in a chair but didn’t think of it at the time)
3)      If you know it’s not right as a bottom either in a practice or a scene speak up.   As I tried let her tie wrist to calve the wraps were too close to the knee joint because of someone’s (mine) tight hamstrings.  It’s only practice right? I knew better but was going to let it ride until a friend spoke up.
4)      There’s always some little thing you may not know.   I’ve recoiled my rope the same way since I started and it makes me border line OCD every time.  There is an easier and neater way to do it.
5)      I still can’t teach a knot I’m not tying and can’t show you a knot when my hands are tied together.
This last one is the most important.  Today I got to see a Top learn and grow.   When I came home and talked to the Chesty Blonde these question came up
TCB “You only tied a cuff or two?”
Me “Yep”
I went on to explain what you already know
TCB  “So you were a demo body”
Me “ A fat ugly one but basically yes”
TCB “But you’re a top”
Me “She really wanted to learn”
There’s a lot more behind the answer. Sure I could have split the time with my new friend and tied more. No doubt it would have been fine. After all I can always use the practice.  I could have not offered myself up and looked for some who wanted tied and done nothing but practice. In truth it would not have brought me nearly as much joy not because I liked being tied but because I loved seeing her learn.  See her confidence build, the wraps get flatter, the ropes draw more evenly and the knots flow from her hands a little naturally each and every time.   She’d beam, and smile.  It was a very rewarding experience and being part of it was very cool.
If you’d have told me when I woke up I’d volunteer as demo body I’d have laughed but in the end I couldn’t have had more fun.

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Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Thank you for Flying Sadist Airlines – An Epic Poem


Thank you for Flying Sadist Airlines

After a bit of reflection and mainly becuase I’m halfway through an unabridged version of Canterbury Tales for my current pleasure reading I’ve decided to try to write a post in a classic epic poem style meets Dr Seuss.  Which is really nothing more than a way to potentially justify my poorly constructed and overly complicated sentences and bizarre rhyming scheme.  Thank you for being masochists and indulging me by reading even just a little.

Part 1 Into The Darkness

All of this is true and none of it is true.  Perhaps the events had happened a millennia ago and perhaps they happened in the residence next to where you are right now in the moments that only recently passed.  This is the tale of the times, of today, and of tomorrow. They are the words also of legends of old, and of moments as modern as the moment you are in and as old as the universe.  It is all completely true and an utter lie.
The wind whipped through the cool autumn air. That much I can assure did really occur.  And as the temperature fell and the moon glowed soft and golden in the sky. The night was alive with far too many voices.  Still despite it all somehow the possibility of magic lingered on the breeze and with it evil and wickedness simply waiting their turn.  In the distance as our fair damsel made her way hastily across the black hard darkness that blanked the earth.  She was in tow, and captured, and without even the slightest resolved to escape the fate that awaited her.  Willingly unwilling and all too caught up in the surroundings to think better of things but as the story goes sometimes the things we crave are not the things we should admit to wanting most.
But admit is exactly what she had done, time and again; with reckless abandon. Truer words have never been spoken and great lies lied within them.  But rather than run like so many before and what would have been of soundest intellect and purest mind to do she followed dutifully chattering harmlessly with the one who escorted her from the deep darkness into the unyielding of the light.
There are of course times when things like this occur. Where what is obvious seems less so and what is hidden seems so painfully obvious.  Mythic tales of hardship and triumphs, of fool hardiness and destruction; which was ahead?  Knowing what was behind remained yet unresolved.    So the tormentor began his game with subtle suggestions and playful banter.  She had no idea what laid before her.  What wickedness awaited but only that there would be pain and a slight hint of ecstasy, torment and relief, surrender and in it escape that words never quite seemed to do justice, simple things first, necessities and treats, provisions for the journey that somewhere in the future she could enjoy. Things that he would undoubtedly share with another, so is the plight of a wanton woman when the Demon has another on his mind. Her mind, body and twisted little soul by her own design very much shared with so many.
So the journey continued as our damsel was given the option to choose some devices of her own torture, as adornments for the future, and reminders of the sweet and delicious torment that was yet about to come but would long after concluding be dwelled upon as marks, on the body, mind, and soul.
Remembering things long forgotten as he taunted her with what was yet to be endured, reminding her not so gently that she had earned ever uncomfortable moment that lay in her future and that if nothing else he was going to leave his mark on her in a way that even previous evils had not.   All true as anything and all of which were just words to her as her mind weighed the possibilities of what he had meant.   His intentions were quite specific but the details of which were with held leaving her to wildly contemplate her own fate.
Back out of the light and into the darkness she was sent, trailing behind him. His lust and wickedness was about to be spent.  Dodging shadows and light, as the start of her night was beckoning and within the hour the moment of her duress would soon be at hand.

Part 2 The Road into Hell

His boots on the stairs, the door closed and the world left behind.  They ask was she ready because it was her time?   The hour was calling and yes her time was here. She nodded with a lot of excitement mixed with just a small batch of fear.
So over she went like a good woman should and he laid into her soundly with a stern piece of wood.  It burned and bit with every impact the beginning was ending, really just two from the last. Then one of the wicked who  was watching the sights.  He called out an idea with sadistic delight. “Why she’s not counting and you know that’s not good. You should start over and give a few extra just because you know that you could.”
And with this the one laughed with paddle in hand. He said “let’s start all over, count out loud do you understand?”  She gritted her teeth and dared him a smile.   As so they began once again in the very same style.   The room filled with smacking, and swooshing, with sensations and sighs.  A few muffled mumbles for what he did to her hide.
And once they got there after beginning again, went from zero, to heaven, to hell in those ten.  Which totaled out 18 because they because of the new start . He hated falling just short of 20 with all of his heart.   So two more “extra” were harshly applied, and she gritted her teeth and lost herself deep inside.  A few of those swats had left her well marked with an ass so it red it probably glowed  in the dark. One would think she was bitter. But she was not bitter but hot. She loved every moment even the two extra, extra, extra, hard swats.  And one would expect this was the end of our tale but it is just the beginning of her road into hell.
So off with the jeans, on to her panties, and then and on the bare.  He whipped her with leather it seemed only fair.  She squealed and she loved it with each solid stroke.  So he hit some more while the men laughed, and they joked.   Then onto the hand because it only seemed right, and if all went as planned it was the start of her night.

Part 3 Descent and  Elevation

With night in the fore ground and not in the past, they gagged her, and pushed her and once again started to laugh.   Thrown down on the bed so nice and so soft they brought out the blind fold and she nearly scoffed.  The games men play are wicked at night, but she was all theirs and tucked well out of sight. She drooled into her gag with small bit of shame.  She laughed at her plight and recounted how much she loved their sick game.  Her bottom was glowing, still slightly ablaze as the ropes then appeared to bind to her frame.  Hands tied to knees, and flat on her back they spanked her bottom, her pussy and legs but just on the back. And then he said something while she was catching her breath but on went the blind fold there would be no time to rest.
Her mind raced a little, faster, and more.  She wondered what wickedness they had in store. Whips and leather, more wood and sins of the flesh.  They would push the limits they wanted to test.  Then there was just silence.  Oh what could that mean?  Then she heard a loud buzzing and wanted to scream. Not tender, not gentle, no pleasure, just pain. Not soft and not slow, they held her legs wide all as part of their game.
They took her to heaven through the bottom of hell and wouldn’t relent until they had emptied her well.   She squealed, and she shook and they held her down.  Making her shake from the tips of her toes to the top of her crown.  And when that wave had passed there would be no respite.  They simply continued the hellish and orgasmic delight. While pinching and pushing, while keeping her there, until she crested again and again and was fully aware.
She shook and she shattered and continued to shake. She wondered and thought about what else they would take.  And when she was wasted, a soaked drooling mess. They’re loosened the ropes and before she could rest.  They uncovered her eyes, and mouth just in time. As her gaze met his met the Demon’s he offered “Thank you for flying Sadist Airlines”

Part 4 –

So women seem wicked and often men  also do  .  But even in evil there is often good too.  They hugged her and kissed and they brought her back down but not before she’d come once more like a flood destroying cities and towns. And the dark one he drifted off into the night while two stayed behind to enjoy other delights.
And this brings to the end of our little tale, how you can find heaven from dark depths of hell.  If you ever should wonder what evil is like, it the thing that laughs with you in the still of the night.  It’s the words that still linger long after their said, and the moments so fleeting that dance in your head.
When pleasure comes calling there always is pain, whether wicked and wanton or modest with shame.   And the words have been spoken and the deeds have been done. Life is too short to not have some fun.
So love all your lovers so pure and so true.  And if you’re like us find something wicked to do.  For nothing is new, only new once more.  And pain can be pleasure for ladies and whores.   So maybe this happened and maybe it’s true. And maybe it’s lie and a lesson for you. Would you dance with a Demon to find your delight, and how often you’ve screamed in the dead of the night?  So I’ll say it once more, just one last time.  Thanks you for flying Sadist Airlines.
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Pig Tails Really?

Look I try to be a cool customer.   By nature I typically flow between completely confident and pleasantly aloof depending on the mood, situation, and level of distraction.  So there I sat on a Sunday morning just having a conversation.  And I had done my best to be gentleman, not flirtatious, overt, or playful, or any other thing that would send a message that might be misinterpreted in order to simply keep my promise.  It wasn’t for lack of interest but out of simple respect for the arrangement. After all there is a huge difference between a gentleman and a fucking saint.  I try to be the first but will NEVER be the latter.
So as I sat there, rather innocently. We were talking about things, life, relationships, etc, you know the drill.  We had talked a lot over the previous few days, great conversations about all sorts of subjects, some topics were expected and a few others were not but every moment was something I really enjoyed.  In fact we were talking at that very moment.  I was just sitting in a chair staring into an empty room when she once again graced the doorway with her presence and leaned very naturally against the frame.  Just looking in my direction and talking like nothing had changed.
My mind raced, but before I could keep my cool and gentlemanly demeanor I asked “Pig tails? Really?” I know she smiled and said yes.  Any other words were lost on me in those few seconds.  Was it on purpose?  Was she toying with me? Tempting me and my resolve?  The paranoid control freak in me thought “she has to know”.
“You’re going to be fucking killing me all day” I told her.  Every man has his weaknesses and those are one of mine.  I silently hoped a school girl outfit wasn’t the next thing because that would have been too much even for stoic old me to resist.   Still in those seconds gone was the reserved and calculated gentleman. Sure he would return quickly but I knew that it would be impossible to look at her and not think of things that I shouldn’t for the hours we had together that day.
She stood there braiding her hair as I looked on.  Staying seated I no longer worried that I had walked arm in arm with her a few steps too long a couple of nights before. That a few glances might have lingered a bit between us.  I watched as her hands deftly braided her locks all while talking and smiling in my direction as I sat there still listening and responding, acting like nothing had changed, like I wasn’t even more distracted by her than I already was.
A little while later while heading to lunch our friends had gotten sufficiently in front of us to be out of ear shot.  After bounding up a short flight of stairs she asked “So you like pig tails?” I know I answered affirmatively as she smiled just a little and slightly coyly before taking off in front of me towards the door. Once again any other words were lost on me for a few seconds as I watched her sexy yet purposeful stride and those damned pig tails.
Speaking of words, I was true to mine.  I was (mostly) a gentleman the rest of the day (and only slightly flirtatious). However those damn pig tails really did drive me nuts making her all the more tempting as we continued to talk and share a few hours and a small part of our lives with the each other.
I already knew I liked her on a variety of levels.
But Pig Tails…Really?
Fast forward a week.  She had been in my thoughts countless times through the week but not in the way one might have assumed.  Real life had interceded in both our worlds but between those concerns were the pleasant things I had recalled from the days before.
I’m blissfully oblivious after a morning at the gym and a new trainer who I believe was trying to kill me; and not in the  fun pushing my carnal buttons kind of way. So as once again as I headed in to lunch; the timing pure serendipity “Someone” put up an @ to me on Twitter, it contained a lovely pic that included pig tails once again this time with a just a peek of rope.  Even from afar she was adding fuel to the fire.  My waiter waited patiently as I looked at the pic once more and tried to compose my thoughts before ordering a plain water.  “What is it?” My companion asked so I showed her the pic. “Yeah I can see why you’re distracted”.   And distracted I was by thoughts of her and to some extent her damn pig tails the remainder of the day and parts of the following.
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