high

Have had a bit of a block lately. Getting high will usually get the creative juices flowing again. And so, here I am. High. But not in the mental, rambling thoughts, sort of way. In a body high. Where it feels so good to stretch muscles, to arch my back, to caress my body. Where just thinking about some girls hands on my tits brings on the sensation that they in fact are. That wondering what it would feel like to have her tongue curling around my nipples makes them tingle. That imagining her long soft hair against my breast while she sucks on them makes me wet. Makes my pussy clench in anticipation of her hand pressing against my clit.

This is the kinda weed that makes you wanna fuck all night long. This is the kinda weed that makes you want to do all those taboo things you tell yourself you would never do. The kinda high that makes your husbands request to go ask the guy next door to join you in a mfm three way seem like a reasonable request. The kind of thing that you would never admit to yourself lurks in your closet. Lucky for you I'm fresh out of neighbors I'd like to fuck, and so can focus on telling you what I would do.

We went to a swingers party on Saturday where I met this cute blond. She had nice big tits, with delicate pink nipples. If her man would have been attractive I might have accepted her invitation. And If she would have been there alone, I would have extended my own. Everyone else at the club seemed to be much more mature than us so after a little kissing and touching between the blond and I, hubby and I left.

We stopped Denny's on our way home for some french toast and nachos (strange I know, but it works)and the hostess caught my attention. She had a long braid of beautiful dark hair, she was short and petite. It was the hair that did it. Took her from a ehh.... to hmmm... I hesitated. When she turned away and her hair swung back I was in lust. The long soft looking hair! Hair that promises to tickle me all over while she's kissing me. To feel her hair brush against my bare flesh as she undresses me. All those thoughts in a fraction of a second. I hesitated though to say something to her. I always hesitate and sometimes the moment slips away. This time I was determined not to let it. When she came back around I had to say something. We complemented each others hair. Mine for the moment having been tamed by a flat iron into beautiful long silky raven locks. The three of us chatted for a bit. Darn no where to go party at around here. When she brought up that she bar tends, I didn't bother to follow up and ask if she could make me a white russian (most bars don't have milk). At that point hubby pipped in and started to dominate the conversation. Sometimes its great, my flirting skills need perfecting and he can fill the gaps, but when i try to jump back in he doesn't let go of the wheel.

Regardless of the fact that he got the info instead of me, we know when she'll be bar tending and can stop by for a drink. Where I'll have a hard time keeping my mind in the conversation. My mind will keep wandering to the feel of her hair against my tits while we kiss. To have her straddling me both of us naked, her breasts mostly hidden behind her hair. Her chocolate colored nipples peeking through. How I wrap my tongue around it and suck on it. While her hand is reaching down between my legs applying the perfect amount of pressure to my pussy. I grind against her my hands running over her breasts hidden by her silky hair. She runs the fingers of her free hand through my hair, and grab a handful at the base (in that Oh My God! way that can trigger an orgasm, sorry guys, only girls know how to pull this one off) She tilts my head up to hers and kisses me, her lips so soft and delicate, her face lacking that annoying sand papery quality. She slips her fingers into my wet pussy making me moan.

My moan can not be contained. Even if I'm just fantasizing about it, if I moan in my mind I moan out loud. A dead giveaway that I was just thinking about fucking you if you ever hear me do it in conversation. At any rate, I'd moan out loud, and judging from the total lack of customers at that Denny's at 2 a.m. she'd hear me, which would embarrass me. If I'm able to suppress the moan till after I have had a stiff drink or two, I'll keep flirting till I asked to see her place. Otherwise an uncomfortable silence would develop while I'm trying to think of a good excuse for the moan. The moment would slip away, and I'd be too embarrassed to keep going.