Friday, July 31, 2015

Ella's Meme

Ella created this great meme and I couldn't pass up not participating.

Take a look at your walls at home. Which picture/object is your favorite and why? Bonus points if you post a picture.
I live in an RV so there are no pictures on the walls.  There are lots of windows though and I'll share what I'm seeing out of my living room window (Does that count?)

What is/are your favorite perfume:  The one I wear most now is Design.  Some of my favorites from the past are  Six, Ysatis, Joy

How many pairs of shoes do you own? Have you ever hidden new shoes from your spouse?  I don't have as many as I used to because space is limited but I don't think I would be overestimating if I said twenty-five pairs.  Don't want to commit to the second part of this question -  I think I'll take the 5th. 

Snacks - Sweet, Salty, or Both?  If you could choose 1 snack, and it magically had no calories, what would it be?  Sweet and salty. Ice Cream - I think it should be its own food group.

What are your favorite cut flowers? I love irises.

Without using a real name, describe one person in your life with whom you have a hard time being patient.  I have a dear friend who can drive me right up the wall at times.

What food do you love that your spouse hates?  What food does your spouse love that is "yecch" to you?  Ray is a picky eater, I'd have to say lamb.  Me. I can't abide liver.

What is a song you associate with meeting your honey? Day after Day.

Do you have a favorite movie that you like to watch every few months or once a year? There are several, but Notting Hill, and The Bird Cage come to mind.

What collection(s) do you have?  How did your collection start?  (Add a picture if you like.) I used to collect sets of dishes, according to Ray.  I would say rings and bracelets - love them.  

Where would you like to go on your next vacation?  Is there somewhere else on your Bucket List? Wow, in the whole world, all I know it has to be warm.

If you could only buy clothes at one store, at what store would you shop? Chico's

What gift(s) from your spouse have been the most loved and appreciated? Ray has always been very generous and thoughtful, but I think the best gift he ever gave me was my Sunny Girl.

Monterey- Halloween 1980 016.jpg

Name one item of your spouse's clothing that you would love to throw away. He has a ratty ole' pair of tennies and a pair of crocs that need to be gone.

What is the submissive action (or inaction) of which you are most proud? Biting my tongue when he has told the same story 6,000 times.

Thanks Ella for this meme.  See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, July 27, 2015


Sorry folks, forgot to go back and check and the post was still in draft instead of publish.

This last week has been a real scorcher here, how about where you are?  It's the dog days of August and it's not even August.  Ray's birthday turned out okay, my brother convinced him to go out to dinner, so we did and had lots of fun.  Later in the week a friend visited and it was good to catch up.   Saturday night was a hoot.  We went to the local cantina. After a couple of pitchers of margueritas with my brother and his girlfriend, and lots of laughs,  both Ray and I slept very well after we were able to get back into our inadvertently locked house with all the keys safe inside.  Fun, but a story for another time.  Have a great week.  Parts of this story may or may not be autobiographical.  lol


Okay, it’s almost Sunday afternoon, and I have a deadline of 11:00 PM to get this done. What am I going to write today?  I’ve been wracking my brain and putting this off for days, and now it’s down to the wire and there’s not a thought it my head.  I’m in big trouble.

Wayne has been reminding me for days, and I keep telling him, “Yeah, I know,” but I haven’t done a thing about it.  Two days ago he told me again and instead of telling him my usual I told him ‘to go to hell, I knew what I was doing and what I had to do and I didn’t need his always harping on me.”  

Well you know how well that went over, don’t you.  I found myself upended in a heartbeat, and he was beating out a tempo on my backside that resembled the music they played at a 4th of July Fireworks show.  We were having a fireworks show of our own. His hand slapping my behind, me begging him to stop and the dog barking and howling and nipping at Wayne’s bare feet and Wayne telling the dog to back off.  Anyone watching would think it funny – actually if I weren't the one being assaulted, I would think it funny.  Wayne usually contained Pepper is a room before he spanked me, but this time it happened so quickly, he never even gave it a thought.  At any rate, when Wayne thought he had property chastised me, he let me up but not before telling me that I had to go write a 250-word essay on respect now.  ‘Hell, if I knew what to write I wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place.  Plus now,  I had to write an assignment on respect.'

I trudged over to my laptop to begin.  Respect.  Wow, could I write down the words to Aretha Franklin’s song.  Maybe I could get two hundred and fifty words out of that.  Okay, let’s do a little research here.  I found out that the song was written by Otis Redding, of Sitting on the Dock of the Bay Fame, in 1965.  He based his version of the song on man’s viewpoint and sung to his woman saying he would give her everything if she would just give him a little respect.  Aretha Franklin came along in 1967, changed the lyrics just a bit.  Her version reflected a strong, confident woman’s viewpoint, and it became an instant hit.  ‘Is that two hundred fifty words?  Not even close.’

Okay, let’s see what Mr. Webster has to say about respect.  Respect can be a noun or a verb.  As a noun, it is a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities or achievements.  As a verb, it means to admire (someone or something) for their abilities, qualities or achievements.  Somehow, I don’t think this is what Wayne is looking for in my essay.  I think he wants me to acknowledge that I was a little snarky when all he was doing was being helpful.  I don’t mind saying I’m sorry, but I hate like hell to have it in writing where he could pull it up at any time to remind me of my failings. ‘Stop stalling and get this done, you still have your post to write,’ my brain is telling me, and still I’m sitting here thinking of what else I could be doing.  

Lately, writing has been a chore. I sit down with high intentions and the ‘and then’ syndrome takes over.  I suddenly remember I need to respond to an email, order something online, do the laundry, make a list for something or other.  And then, the phone rings,  I chat for a while, remember I owe someone a return call, by then it’s almost lunchtime, and I have to fix something for lunch because Wayne will be home.  But first, I have to go make the bed, tidy up the kitchen, get in the shower and get dressed.  AND SO IT GOES.

ENOUGH  Respect, the art of always being kind (isn’t that so Katie?) and treating others as you want to be treated.  I honestly believe this, and I do try.  Most of the time, I do succeed especially to everyone outside of my inner circle.  To those in my inner circle, snarky comments spill out of my mouth unfiltered and sometimes hurtful.  Do I mean them, maybe sometimes, but most of the time it only reflects my mood at the moment.  Many times, it’s a reminder of my own shortcoming that makes me lash out, and I don't need a reminder.  Certainly not me, little Ms. Perfect.  

Wayne is usually the recipient of my sarcasm and most of the time it rolls off his shoulders like water off a duck.  Other times, his mood dictates that his skin is a little thin at the moment, and when hit with one of my outbursts, his reaction is to take me over his knee.  I really don’t mind.  He’s been doing it most of our married life.  

Early in our marriage, he came home one day and was hit by a barrage of foul language and comments about his heritage because he had the temerity to forget to close the gate and Pepper ran out of the yard.  After about fifteen minutes of my harangue, he calmly walked over to me, put his foot up on the chair rung, pulled me over his hip and whacked my behind.  I was sputtering and carrying on as if he was killing me but when he pulled down my jeans and panties and really reddened my behind, I began to realize that the spanking relieved my tension.  My ass might have been smarting, but my mood was much better.  Of course, that might have had something to do with the sex that followed.

Sex doesn’t always follow spankings anymore, but when it does, it is hot and heavy.   The kind you read about in steamy romance novels. I guess that’s not going to happen today.  Instead, I have to write this essay on respect.

Back to the drawing board.  Respect.  I do respect and love Wayne and like doing things to please him.  Most of the time, I do that.  Making the bed is a good example.  Before I married Wayne, I would merely pull up the covers.  Wayne has a thing about a made bed, so now I will always put on the bedspread.  There are more and more things I have found myself doing over the years that I never did before.  Things that matter to him, not to me, but if it keeps him happy, so be it.  Isn’t that a sign of respect?  

My butt is no longer stinging, and I still haven’t written this damn essay.  If I don’t finish it soon, I’ll be getting another reminder.  Maybe, I need another reminder; maybe some hot sex will spur me along even quicker.  Yeah, I think that may be the answer considering what I have to have posted by the morning.

The phone rings and I hear Wayne telling my friend that I’m busy at the moment, and he’ll have me call her back.  ‘Here’s my chance. I know I'm a bitch but what can I say, sometimes we have to do what we have to do.

“I needed to speak to Nicky.  Why couldn’t I talk to her now?”

“Because now you have an assignment.  You’re procrastinating.  It’s not that big a deal; you should be finished by now.”

“If it’s not that big a deal, why does it have to be done?

“If you respect me, you’ll do as I ask and this is a lesson in respect.”

“Sounds more like a lesson in authority to me.”

“Sounds to me like I ended the lesson too soon.  I can fix that if you keep it up, you’ll be back over my knee for another spanking, and the essay will be five hundred words.” ‘Shoot, I don’t want to write an even longer essay.   This didn’t work out the way I wanted.’

“I’m sorry.  I’ll write the damn essay.”

So I did what he wanted and wrote an essay on respect.  Once I finally put my mind to it, my fingers flew over the keyboard.  I didn’t even say a word when he told me it had to be handwritten.  I may have bitten the inside of my mouth, but I went back and handwrote the essay.  When I gave it to him, he handed it back to me and told me it wasn’t legible enough to read.  My writing, while looking lovely, is almost impossible to read on my best days.  I bit some more of my mouth and went back and rewrote it in my very best penmanship.  Finally, it met with his approval.  

“Okay, now read it to me.”


“Read it to me.”  

I stood there, in front of him, shifting my weight from one leg to another and finally I found my voice. By the time I finished reading it, tears were coursing down my cheek. He pulled me into him, hugged me tightly and kissed me.

“I love you,” he told me.

“I love you too, even when you do make to jump through hoops.”

“Do you need another spanking, you little minx.”

“I think maybe I do,” I told him.

“I think so too.”  He swatted my behind and pushed me toward the bedroom

‘I had a feeling I was going to get just what I wanted, lucky girl that I am.’

Have a good day and see you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, July 20, 2015


Happy Monday everyone.  Today is Ray's birthday.  He doesn't want to do anything special. I keep asking, and all he keeps saying is 'it's just another day.'  That may be so, but it's the 26,280 day, and it should be celebrated.  I bought him a gift and a card and will suggest that a birthday spanking is an option, just in case it might slip his mind.  Keeping my fingers crossed.

Today's story is a scenario that many of us here in blog land have faced, fought the fight and won. Some of us have been more successful than others and to those may I say I'm jealous, but then you know that.



“Honey, I want to talk to you later.  Do you think you could turn off the TV long enough so that we could talk before you fall asleep and then head to bed?”
“Sure, babe.”

I had been working up my courage to talk to him for months, actually years, but it was only in the last few months that I thought I could really do it.  We’ve been married twenty-five years, our kids are grown and gone.  We still love each other, there’s been no lying or cheating, but our passion is gone.  Now I don’t expect to have the same fireworks we had when we were younger, but a sparkler every once in a while would be great.  I keep thinking about that old saying, if you don’t use it, you lose it.  I think we are almost there.

I have worked up a whole presentation because I know what he’s going to say.  I have broached the subject in a roundabout way before but when Fifty Shades of Grey became the talk of the world, I said it would be fun to try.  “You're ridiculous, and it’s all a fad,” were his words.  Maybe so, but that fad has been on mind for at least forty of my forty-five years.  So tonight, if I do get a chance to talk with him when he brings up that it’s all that damn book’s fault, I’m prepared.  I made a list of all the books I’ve read over the years, all the movies I like to watch over and over, and also a list of the blog sites I’ve visited ever since 50SOG.  To me, it’s definitely a body of proof and not just a fad.

I went about my usual routine, I cleaned up the kitchen, set up the coffee for the morning, planned the next night’s dinner menu and joined him in the family room. As usual he was ensconced in his recliner watching some shoot ‘em up. Before I switched on my tablet to check emails and settled in to read a book, I asked again.

“Honey, remember, I want to talk to you.  Is now a good time?”

“Wait til this program is over, babe and you can have my full attention,”

So, like the good wife I am, I waited until the program was over.  Unfortunately, I saw more of the program than he did because the sounds coming from the recliner were the sounds I recognized from sleeping next to the man for the last twenty-five years.  I got up and turned off the tv manually because the remote was hidden somewhere in the recesses of his chair because God Forbid I should actually be able to touch the damn thing.  I was annoyed. I turned off the lights and went to bed.  ‘He can sleep in that damn chair, I hope he’s so stiff in the morning, he can’t move.  It would serve him right.”

I took a couple of Tylenol PM’s and crawled into bed.  Sometime during the night, I realized he was beside me when I felt his hand reaching for mine.  I ignored him and rolled over. 

I was usually up before him in the morning.  I make the coffee and set out the breakfast things.  He was a big breakfast person.  Not today, though.  I was still in bed when his alarm went off.  When I still wasn’t up when he got out of the shower, I could tell he was concerned.

When he saw my eyes open, he asked if I was okay.  “I’m fine,” I answered and made no move to get up. He came over to me, bent down to give me a kiss and laid his hand on my forehead.  “You don’t feel warm.” 

“I told you I was fine.”

“Well, it’s just unusual for you to be still in bed.   How come you didn’t wake me when you came upstairs?”

I gave no response.

“Honey, talk to me,” he told me

“Talk to you, I wanted to speak to you last night.  You knew that.  I even reminded you after dinner, and you said when the program was over.  Well, guess what, the program ended, and you were fast asleep, just like every other damn night.  So, if I don’t feel like talking to you now imagine how I feel every other damn night of the week.”

The longer I spoke, the angrier I became.  Ron did not deal well with conflict.  His response has always been to turn away and come back later.  I think it’s because his parents always went at each other tooth and nail.  I can’t remember him ever engaging in an argument.  Even when the kids were teenagers and disagreed with everything, Ron would leave it up to me to resolve the problem, whatever it was. So I was surprised when he didn’t leave me stewing in my own juices.  In the past, he would have been out of that room in a flash.

“I’m sorry, babe.  I guess I was tired, it was a long stressful day at work.”

There was a time I would feel bad when he issued a statement like that.  That time was long past.  The entire time the kids were growing up I worked full time and still took care of the house with little help from him.  I knew all about stressful days at work.  It was easier now because there were only the two of us, but I still worked full-time and tended to the house and his needs.  Now that we were better off financially, we had someone to take care of the yards, and any repair work was hired out.

“Ladeeda.  I also worked all day Ron and then came home and cooked dinner and cleaned up afterward.  I don’t want to live like this anymore Ron. Sometimes, I think I’d be better off living alone, it would be a lot less work and I don’t think I’d be any more lonely.”

“Honey, don’t say that.  You are my world, and I couldn’t live without you.”

“I’m sure you think that, but you know you could hire someone to cook your meals, clean your house and do your laundry.  They wouldn’t make any demands on your time.”

He crossed the room, and I thought here he goes, out the door.  Instead, he unplugged his cell phone and pressed the buttons, and I heard him say.  “Henry, I’ll be late today.  Unless you hear differently, I won’t be in at all.  No, just some personal things I need to take care of.”

He looked at me and said he was all mine for the day.  I was shocked.  I couldn’t remember him ever taking a day off.  I asked for his phone and called my office and told them I’d see them the next day.

“Let me get a shower, and then let’s hop in the car and head toward the beach.”

“Sounds good, I’ll go turn on the coffee,” he told me.

Now that the moment was upon me, I hope I didn’t get cold feet.  I thought about all I wanted to say as the water cascaded down my body. My hair would frizz at the beach anyway, so I let it dry naturally, dressed casually in a sundress and sandals and headed downstairs.  Ron had my juice and coffee set out and excused himself.  When he came back down, he had changed into shorts and a golf shirt.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

“For the talk or the excursion.” I asked


“I want to talk about what’s happening to us and I’d rather wait until we’re in the car. That way I know you won’t be able to disappear if it gets too uncomfortable.”

“Honey, I promise.  I’ll listen no matter where, okay.”

“Okay, here goes.  I’ve brought this up before and you poo poo’d it, but Ron, this isn’t anything new for me.  I’ve always been turned on by the thought of being spanked. I know you think it has something to do with 50SOG but you’re wrong.  That only brought it to the forefront.  I’m not the only one, lots of women feel this way.  I’ve made a list of some internet sites you can check.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want a list of rules and regulations, I just want you to take me over your knee and spank my butt when I ask or when you think it would improve things.”

“You want me to spank you.” His tone was incredulous.

“Basically, yes.  I think it will lead to all kinds of improvement in our sex lives and our lives in general.  As least, according to what I’ve read.”

“But, honey.  I never even spanked the kids.  How could you think I could spank you?”

“I want you to try.  You don’t have to be perfect, I wouldn’t know the difference. There are all kinds of sites on UTube and we could practice.  Think about me being bare assed laying over your knee and you pinking my bottom.  Isn’t that a turn on?”

“When you say it like that, yes.  But I would be afraid of hurting you.”

“Honey, it’s my ass we’re talking about.  I have plenty of padding. Think of the times you’ve been so frustrated with me.  Wouldn’t you love to take me across your knee and lay into my ass?  Think of how much frustration you could expel.”  He laughed.

“If you think it’s important and it’s what you want, I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.  Want to try now, before we even take off, because just the thought of being over your knee has made me horny as hell.”

He took my hand and led me to the couch in the family room.  He sat down and pulled me across his knee.  “You’re sure.” 

“Yes, I’m sure.”  I felt the first tenuous spank.  It barely registered.  The next one followed and it was a little harder but still it wouldn’t have killed a mosquito.

“I’m not going to break honey, that crack has always been there.” Even though I couldn’t see, I could feel his mirth.

“It’s statements like that, that is going to make this so much easier” He said and spanked again.  I felt that one, and the next one and the one after that.  He found his rhythm and it wasn’t long before I was utzing around on his lap.  In a move he must have remembered from high school gym days, he wedged my panties into my ass crack and now I was feeling the full effect of the spanking.  Although, it hurt like hell I was smiling.  The sound and feel of flesh on flesh was something I had been craving for most of my life.  Ron seemed to be hitting his stride and I could feel his erection growing and knew he was as turned on as me.  He kept spanking but his other hand was exploring my wetness and I was moaning with pleasure from his fingers and his hand.  The next thing I knew, he rolled me onto the couch and yanked off my panties.  I reached for his zipper and in a flash he was in me and thrusting hard and fast.  Seconds later, he came with a vengeance. ‘Sweet Jesus’, he yelled.
When I was able to formulate a coherent thought, I thanked E L James.  I had a feeling things would just keep getting better between Ron and I.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Balcony Butts

Look what I found posted on FB today.  Thank you Cuz



See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, July 13, 2015

A Man and His Horse - Part Four

Hello, another week already.  July is almost half over and the summers that seemed to stretch out forever when I was younger, now go by in the flash of an eye.  Maybe that's why I live in endless summer;  I'm trying to deny the passing of time.

For those of you who read my last post, let me say that Ray is doing fine.Thank you for all your good thoughts and wishes.  More surgery this week on a different spot and hopefully he won't come out of there looking like a mummy this time.  I told him he should save the look for Halloween.

This is another late Sunday edition of the story for this week. Hope you enjoy the continuation of A Man and His Horse. It's a little racy, if it offends, I'm sorry.  The beginning of the story can be found here.

Gabe left the bedroom and Chelsea lay back on the bed and thought about the last couple of weeks.  I’m a different person, although always ready to learn new things I knew that I was a ‘virgin’ when it came to sex.  My husband and I learned together and weren’t very adventurous, always doing the same things over and over.  It was the adage if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.  I wondered if it would be the same if he were still alive.  Would we tire of the same ole’, same ole’?  Would he wander looking for something strange?  Would I? 

Gabe walked into the room holding that bag, and my ruminating came to a screeching halt.  How could you think about what if’s when faced with reality?

“Are you ready?” Gabe asked.

“I think so.”

“What would you like to try first?”

“Since you’re the instructor, and I’m practically a novice, you choose?”

“You have that much trust in me; I’m flattered.”

“I believe that you won’t push me too far out of my comfort zone.”

“No, I won’t do that, but I will stretch your comfort zone.”

“You’re making me nervous already, let’s get on with it.”

“Bossy, I know how to fix that.”

He took out the blindfold and placed it over her head and handcuffed her wrists to the headboard.  “Comfortable,” he asked.

“For the moment.”

I felt a rush of cold air and realized he must have turned on the ceiling fan.  The next sensation had to be the feather tickler.  He waved it intermittently over my whole body, and I was never sure where it would next land.  The cool air and the tickler felt fantastic.  He pushed my legs apart, and the tickler teased my inner thighs and I felt my juices start to flow.  As the tickler teased my labia, his mouth teased my nipples, licking and sucking the hardened nubs.  His fingers replaced his mouth as he pulled to elongate my nipples, and I felt the bite of something and realized he had just applied the nipple clamps.  I wasn’t sure I like that sensation, and I squirmed a little

“Too much?”  he asked

I didn’t answer because I wasn’t sure.  I didn’t want to give up too quickly. I could feel him brushing his tongue across my clamped nipples, and it sent shivers down my spine.  Not knowing what was coming next added to the excitement.  The tickler was moving over my body again from my neck to the tips of my toes, the sensation almost too much to handle, but my bound hands prevented me from doing anything about it. I wanted more and wiggled my hips when the tickler caressed my labia.
He was at my breasts again. I felt the release of the clamps and the pain as the blood came rushing back that he assuaged by licking and teasing, bringing pleasure along with the pain.  He released the handcuffs and massaged my shoulders before rolling me onto my tummy.  He reattached the handcuffs and once again I was a prisoner.  The feather tickler moved along my back, over my buttocks, down my legs, up my inner thighs teasing me.  I was squirming and calling out, begging for release.

“Not yet little one.  Not yet.  Stay still.”

He teased some more, and the next sensation I felt was a sharp bite.  I felt it over and over on my buttocks and up my back, quick, light little taps with just a hint of sting at the end. He must be using the dogging bat, I thought to myself.  It was delicious.  The stinging sensations after the light touch of the tickler intensified my need for release.  I squirmed and received several harder swats with the dogging bat.  It didn’t help; I wanted more pain, more tickling, more touching, more of everything, but mostly I wanted release.

He pushed my legs open, and I felt the dogging bat slapping on my inner thighs.  He was making me crazy with desire and then I felt his fingers teasing my clit.  Round and round he circled, never quite touching enough to make me come, but always ramping up my desire.  Each time I thought release was inevitable, he changed direction.  I was panting with need and want when the dogging bat landed on my buttocks.  Over and over he spanked, each strike bringing me closer to climax.  When I thought I would explode, he stopped. 

He left the bed, and I could hear paper rustling. He’s in the bag, again. Cold, I felt cold.  He was rubbing something cold onto and in my anus.  OMG, he’s going to use that thing. I immediately clinched my bottom and received five hard hand slaps for the effort.

“Release and relax.” he told me.
I unclenched my muscles and felt his finger circling my back hole.  Then I felt penetration, again I clenched and received a sharp spank.  I relaxed and he pushed the finger further into that tight little space. He pumped the finger in and out and once again I was squirming.  He pulled out, and I almost regretted the loss, but not for long.  The next thing I felt was that beaded thing he had shown me.  He had stroked the graduated beads back and forth between my butt cheeks before he pushed in the first bead.  I squirmed a little, then he pushed in the second bead, testing my comfort level.  I let out a little yelp when the third bead entered, and he twisted the implement around.  I felt so full and so damn good.  He fingered me as he twisted the beads and then he turned on the vibrating switch.  I thought I was going to lose my mind. I bucked and squirmed and yelled out my pleasure as finally he brought me to climax. My orgasm went on and on.  I’d never had an orgasm quite like it before. 

When I finally stopped panting, he removed the handcuffs and massaged my wrists and then removed the blindfold. His eyes were wild with passion. He sheathed himself and slowly entered my channel. The beaded anal vibrator was still in my back hole, and if I thought I was full before, now I was above and beyond.   Gabe pumped his pulsing rod in and out, increasing the tempo with each thrust.  I could see beads of perspiration form on his forehead, his face twisted with the exertion. He came in a series of grunts and twists.  My body convulsed around his cock, extending the duration of our orgasm. We rocked together until the spasms subsided, and he slowly reached under and removed the anal beads.  He kissed me, and I could feel his softening as he carefully pulled out clutching the condom.  He rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom.  He returned with a wet cloth to wipe me up, and I thought it was the sweetest gesture after such tempestuous sex.

When he finished wiping, he asked me what I thought. 

“I, I…

“Chelsea, I need to know what you thought.  Don’t be uncomfortable, we’ve just had mind-blowing sex.  Did I do something that made you uncomfortable?”  Gabe said in a tone that had just the slight edge of annoyance to it.

“I’m not uncomfortable, I liked it, I really liked it and I never thought I would, I just feel a little naughty.”

“I can fix that.”

He sat down on the bed and pulled me across his lap and spanked me. Hard. Ten swats of his calloused hand had me squirming and I could feel my juices beginning to flow.  I could also feel what this spanking was doing to him.  The bulge against my thigh was growing with each spank.

“Naughty girls get spanked, do you feel less naughty now.”

“On the contrary, I liked feeling naughty.  Shall we go again?”

Gabe threw back his head and laughed.  “By all means.”

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Thursday, July 9, 2015


This week is flying by - they all do but this is Thursday, and I am so behind.  On Monday, we had to go to Denton.  Simple enough, except there is not a road in Texas that isn't under some construction. So a normal 15-minute trip automatically doubles.  It was really fun the week before because we were taking the car for repair (A/C compressor died), and we were stuck sweltering in the car. Yuck.  The good news is; warranty covered it.

Tuesday, Ray had an appointment to have a squamous cell cancer removed from the back of his ear.  It turned out to be more extensive that we thought, and he came out with his head wrapped like a mummy.  Poor guy.  He's still going to need some reconstructive surgery in a couple of weeks and on Tuesday he goes back for another cell removal on his eyebrow.  He's paying the price for the sun and surf of earlier years.

Wednesday, we had another one of those absolutely drenching rain storms here, so lakes just starting to return to normal levels are now back to flood stage.  The boat ramps are closed til at least October, so there's no boating - too much debris in the water.  Nice surprise today though.  My nephew who tours for his sport stopped in for a quick overnight visit.  He shared some of his adventures of the last week and, believe me; they were not adventures I want to have.  Glad he survived and is on his way home to my niece and my three little grand-nieces.

I've really been remiss lately in posting (surprise, I know) and as I hit create a new post, I noticed that sometime over the last week I passed 300,000 views.  May not seem a large number to people like Ronnie, or PK or Hermione (to name just a few) but to me it's huge.  Thank you all for coming by to listen to my Aimless Ramblings.  I still remember the first time I posted, and there was a comment. PK, of course.  I was thrilled.  Do you remember how you felt when you received your first comment? I still get excited by comments but nothing like the feeling of the very first one.

Okay, I've rambled on for long enough.  Thanks for listening.

Monday, July 6, 2015

A MAN and his HORSE

Hope everyone had a great weekend - a long one here in the good ole' USA.  Really heard lots of fireworks last night - I do love fireworks even though I know that they're not pet-friendly. I remember my Sunny Girl used to hide.  I'm taking care of Beep (brother's cat) right now and he wasn't too crazy about them either.  He climbed on my lap and would have curled inside if he could.  

I apologize if this story isn't up to snuff.  I barely managed to get it finished so I could post it today.  Don't know what I did all week, but I was busy every day.  Anyway, it's another part of the story from the last couple of weeks.  

Click here for other parts.

Gabe Mitchum was a pleasant surprise.  I didn’t realize that befriending a horse would get me a boyfriend.  It wasn’t that I was looking for one but since being widowed I hadn’t had any male companionship.  Sure, I had dates, mostly with boys masquerading as men and had almost given up hope of ever finding someone worth seeing more than once.  And then along came, Gabe Mitchum. Not only was he an excellent companion, good looking, and a hard worker, but he was a fantastic lover too. My husband and I were virgins when we married so what we learned we learned together, but Gabe Mitchum was no novice.  He was an experienced lover, and I was a willing learner.

We were going riding this Saturday, and I was looking forward to both the riding of horses and him. He had recently purchased some new horses, but he assured me I could ride Chessie, the horse I befriended.

I arrived at his place about 2:30 dressing for riding.  I had on a tee-shirt, jeans, and boots. He said he liked a woman in dresses, so I threw a sundress into my just in case overnight bag.   I realized I was presumptuous packing an overnight bag and now that I thought about it, it’s pretty silly.  After all, I only lived three miles down the road.  Well, he didn’t have to know I came prepared. 

He had both horses saddled and ready for us.  Chessie whinnied when I came close and nuzzled into me, looking for his treat.  I only brought him a sugar cube because I didn’t know much about horses and wasn’t sure it was right to feed them before exercise.  Gabe came over and greeted me with a kiss and a smack on my butt.  “Ready”

“Sure thing.” It was a perfect day for a ride along the river that ran near his property. We had such an easy camaraderie.  He told me did manage to find time to do some shopping this week, and he was anxious to try out the new toys. 

“Me too.” 

After we’d been out for about an hour, my thighs started cramping, and when I mentioned it to him, we started back.  “Can’t have you sore before the fun I have planned. I have a Jacuzzi tub in the house, when we get back I’ll take care of the horses, and you go soften up.  I’ll join you when I’m done.”

“That’s not fair, I should at least take care of Chessie.”

“What did I just tell you?”

“OMG, I didn’t realize it was an order. 

“Well, it is.” He smiled when he said it, but I got the feeling he meant it as it sounded.

So, as told, he stayed in the barn and took care of Chessie and Spirit, and I found the Jacuzzi tub in the garden room.  I turned on the switch, removed my clothing and slipped into the bubbling hot water.  It felt delicious and just the thing for my tight thigh muscles.  I must have drifted off because when I opened my eyes, Gabe was sitting next to me, giving that sensitive area behind my ear butterfly kisses.  I laid my head back and let him continue.  He gave each of my nipples equal attention before his fingers sunk lower and started working their magic on my nether regions.  I turned to him, kissing him as my hand found his penis and teased and taunted him in return.  We lay there, fondling each other and enjoying the hot water swirling around us.  

When we were both pruned, we got out, and he wrapped me in a huge towel. He did the same and led me to the kitchen.  “Sit,” he told me and pointed to a bar stool at the island.

“Want a glass of wine, or maybe a margarita?”

“Whatever you’re having?” I answered.

“I’m having you.”  He smiled  “Well at least afterward, I am. For now, I’m going to have a beer.  Want one of those?”

He reached in the fridge and brought out two Dos Equis, handed one to me.  “Need a glass?”

“Nah, I’ll be one of the guys.”

“That’s never going to happen Chelsea.  I was thinking of ordering in pizza for dinner.  How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.”  He picked up his phone, and I heard him order two large pizzas with everything and two antipasto salads.

“Are we having company?”

“No, I’m a growing boy and I like cold pizza for breakfast.”

“Gotcha” He downed his beer and got another.  “So do you want to see what I bought while we’re waiting for the pizza or do you want to be surprised?”

“Both.  No, show me what you bought.  I probably won’t know what half of it is, and you’ll have to explain it to me.”  She laughed.  He left and when he came back he handed me two bags.  I opened the first and picked up this cute little feather tickler.  “I think I’ll like this,” next came beads on a stick.  “What’s this?”  The beads started small and got larger.

“Reach in and get the batteries at the bottom and I’ll show you.” He inserted the batteries, and the whole thing vibrated.  “This, my dear, is for your tight little rosebud.” 

“Oh no.  That is virgin territory, and I plan on it remaining that way.” He laughed and laughed.  “We’ll see.” The next item was nipple clamps.  “I’m not sure I’m going to like these either.”

“You know, I’m beginning to think I should have kept these things a surprise and just blindfolded you as we experimented.”

“And, I’m starting to believe I don’t want to learn anything new,” I said giggling.

“There’s one more thing in there besides the lube, but I’ll save that for another time.  I don’t want to put you on overload.  Open the other bag.”

“This bag is from the feed and tack store.”

“Yup.  It’s something used on horses, but I’m told it can be quite pleasurable.”  I reached in and pulled out this long stick like thing with a piece of split leather attached to the bottom.  Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Are you sure, it looks scary.” 

“You be the judge.”

I went over to him and to told me to lean over the bar stool. He raised his arm and gave me three swats across my backside.  I pushed my backside out for more.

He laughed.  “Okay that’s a success, now just imagine that when this little number is up your butt hole,” he said holding the anal power beads.

“I’ll need convincing.” 

He grinned naughtily, and I trembled with anticipation.  The bell rang, and he casually walked to the door clad only in the towel.  I loved how comfortable he was with himself; she thought she could learn a lesson or two from him.

They sat at the island eating their salads and started feeding each other bites of pizza, and soon they were really having a food fight.  They were laughing so hard there was pizza sauce and toppings in their hair and everywhere else.  He hauled her up and took her to his shower that was big easily big enough for two.  He filled his hand with body wash and began soaping her body from head to toe.  She was practically purring it felt so good, when he started to shampoo her hair, she was in heaven. When he rinsed her hair, she began washing him paying close attention to his shaft that kept growing as she moved her hands over his body. She massaged his scalp and washed his hair putting her arms around his neck and allowed her tongue to explore his mouth.  Seconds later, he had her against the shower wall and told her to wrap her legs around his waist and had his way with her, pulling out before he came.  

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.  “Wait here, while I go get our new toys.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Happy Fourth

Independence Day - A day of cookouts, beach parties, family get togethers and fireworks.  But it is so much more than that - it is America's.Birthday - the day our founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence.  Let's remember and be thankful for their foresight.  


See you later for more Aimless Ramblings

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Are You?

Saw this on FB today and had to share.  Since it was my vanilla FB, it was geared toward childhood memories more than TTWD but...

I survived as a child because I don't ever remember seeing wooden spoons in my childhood kitchen, however...

PK has a post up today about weapons of 'ass' destruction she received as gifts from Katie and yours truly. She says we're mean but below is what she gave each of us - and it's not just generic - it's geared to right/left handed people so you get the full benefit of its intended use.  Of course, it's intended use is not why she gave us the gift.  Anyway, Ray has tried this and I am now a survivor too.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.