BB's Dirty Thoughts (22 Aug)

(Sorry for last week! I got et by work demons! I'll make this one extra juicy.)

Of all the tools in my sinister briefcase of toys, of my duffel bag of tools of delight and torment, of my war chest of feminine products made for various beauty rituals (hair, skin, nails, parfums, lipstick, and other such sweet cruelties), perhaps the best gift and tool of torture a lover has... is Anticipation.

The preparation one puts into a hot date, the wait before she wraps her mouth around your sex, or heck, even knowing that you can come home to some nice preferred smut after a long work day. Anticipation excites the spirit, makes sharp the senses. Though I have healthy ideas of how much such pleasure I need, and no qualms satisfying it when the moment calls for such, I don't over indulge... so that I never dull that sensitivity. The World is my lover, and every new hour is a chance to meet a new friend, to feel the caress of ocean fog across my exposed breasts, to have a date with destiny.

There is NO thrill like that of meeting a new lover, or going to a place rife with possibility (like, say, a con!), even when one's heart is darkened with scars of attrition, with one too many instances of heartbreak and failure. Hope is the ever-regrowing seed, the absolutely irrepressible notion that one time, This time, you might just get lucky.

And where there is hope, there is Anticipation.

Anticipation KILLS in the sweetest way. Leaves you giddy, sometimes stressed. Makes nerves ride high until you're shaking and unable to focus. Makes you stride through your day with confident steps that appear as sensually swaying hips but are Undoubtedly the burning, fiery strides of powerful, passionate war machine. Drives you to be you Absolute Best. Humbles you, leaves you with aching, desperate, fantasizing questions in the dark.

Anticipation is a Mistress that sometimes breaks you wide open on the earth, raw and painful, crashing down to a bitter reality when it's all for naught. But also... ? She knows how to give the most timeless loves, the deepest, most passionate sexual encounters, casual or not, knows how to drive men and women alike to their knees in poetry. Anticipation destroys panties and mends old scars.

May we all have some succulent thing to anticipate. May we all seek life as the juicy, bitter, fleshy fruit it is, driving our tongues into it's forbidden crevices and knowing well and deeply what it is to HUNGER.