Something I find Sexy – Claudia Schiffer smoking a Cohiba

Claudia-Schiffer-cigar-e1348163463925

Her eyes are as smoldering as the embers in the stoggie she seductively sucks on. Those soft lips of hers gently wrap themselves around the firm shaft. Those long lashed eyes of hers close as she slowly inhales in that controlled fashion of hers. Those large doe eyes open looking straight into mine. She is well aware of the affects her performance is having as she exhales her invitation. Her lips pursed in an ‘o’ shape that beckons mine to join them.

 

I spread my legs a little as I remain seated in a soft leather chair watching her. The smell of her Cuban cigar mixing with the leather makes me feel like I’ve been transported into a noir film. I sip a deep amber scotch and nod towards her, approving her approach.

 

She walks over in an exaggerated swaying motion drawing my attention to her sleek, black, silk dress hugging her curves. She moves in with the grace of a puma and all the intentions of a lioness. A smile spreading across her lips.

 

I Pat my lap and she sits, my hand wanders over the curve of her warm ass. As she leans in to kiss me I run my hand up her thigh feeling the top of her hose. My lips drink her in, she’s as smooth as the scotch and twice as warm. Our tongue entwine as her hair cascades around my head. I feel her melt against me.

 

She parts her legs a bit wider letting my hand explore further to the warm wet wisps of hair shielding her pussy. I listen to her breath heavy and rapid and she feels a fire welling up inside her. My lips trace their way down along her throat to her panting chest. My fingers circling her clit sending waves of stimulation through her.

 

She moans as she feels my fingers teasing her sex, pleasing her mind and satisfying her hunger.

Something I find Sexy – Adriana Lima’s Bouncy Breasts

Adriana_Lima_breastsDecisions decisions. Look at those breasts hanging there… Completely unattended. Its a would be impolite not to indulge yourself in the delicacies offered. Deft fingers slowly unclasping her constraint. Assisting her by guiding the thin straps off her soft shoulders. Her unconfined endowments gently bouncing in gratitude for their freedom.

 

Slowly sweeping my warm hand across one of her warm orbs. I awaken it. its nipple hardening in response. Then i awaken the other. As my lips seek to arouse her further I plant then first one one breast, and then the other. My tongue twirls around one nipple swollen with erotic anticipation, and then the other. I work to balance my attention my arousal to both her breasts in a fair and balanced manner. First one wondrous breast, and then the other. An upward spiral of arousal that heats her passion and desire, in a balanced way paying attention to both.

 

Knowledge and experience, experience and knowledge. Two sides of the same coin. In order to advance along the spiraled path of mastery, you need to pay attention to both.

 

The dichotomy of book smart and street smart, of the applied and the theoretical, is the essence of mastery. Its why mastery is a journey and not an end point. The experience we glean from doing consistent impacts the knowledge we absorb through study. As any good student of algebra knows, if you do dozens and dozens of homework problems, the experience you build up makes your text book a whole lot easier to understand. If you were to rely on just reading the textbook, that pop quiz on Friday becomes very difficult indeed.

 

 

It’s possible to be very experienced at an activity, even a creative endeavor. Painting for instance, if thou paint the same things in the same manner with the same techniques you may become prolific and they may be very artistic, bit if you don’t know the theoretical, the ‘why’ of things, how do you expect to reach that next level. A talented newcomer is only a relented newcomer for so long before becoming yesterday’s has-been.

 

Mastery involves creativity. And experimentation. For instance, Finding new ways to combine words to describe things. For instance, erotic writing. I often mention breasts when I’m writing. It would be quite easy for me to consistently and correctly call them breasts till the reader is quite bored with them. But by employing the mastery of creativity I keep trying to experiment and use new creative ways to refer to them, breasts become the common tits, or orbs, globes, mammaries, jugs knockers, knockouts, knock-abouts, melons grapefruits, an apple a plum a pear or a cherry, or any number of delicacies that come to mind.

Look at them there, that perky pair of pomegranates proudly pointed upward. Those pomegranate s are nouns, not adjectives.

 

But mastery requires focus as well. The famous paradox of the specialist and generalist, it goes something like this: a specialist is someone who learns more and more about less and less until he knows everything about nothing ; whereas the generalist learns less and less about more and more until he eventually knows nothing about everything. If a point well worth focusing on. To avoid either of these outcomes, maintain your focus on your path to mastery.

 

But the spiral of mastery is paved with improvisation and improvement. Like golfers consistently swing it’s the experience of tweaking that stroke that create masters of the game.

Something I find Sexy – Lynda Carter’s Lovely Legs

Lynda Carter 01This is a beautiful picture of songstress, temptress, Wonder Woman, Lynda Carter and her lovely long legs. At five foot nine she is a statuesque beauty. She was the American representative for the Miss World pageant before becoming the iconic image of wonder woman. It seems everyone I know was amazed at her gorgeous breasts hiked up in that bustier, but I was always impressed by her long toned legs. Amazing legs. And those high heeled red boots set her calves off at the sexiest angle.

 

This picture of her lounging in a classic seventies red satin disco dress, s against those blue satin cushions, really nightlights those limbs. I think it’s one of my favorite images. The sultry look in her eyes, the wonderfully rounded breasts with a nice display of cleavage. Her chestnut hair feathered out. Then there’s those ‘oh so lovely ‘ long legs. Look at then there, soft, creamy, endless. Seriously, I could just burry myself there. It isn’t difficult for me at all to imagine her wearing nothing under that dress.

 

Running my firm hands up those legs. Watching her as my action cause a sly smile on her angelic face. I can see her raising an eyebrow as my hands reach the top of those thoughts. As my hands apply a gentle pressure to spread them, it’d more an opening to a negotiation. Will she acquiesce? Her lips my offer a token protest but her eyes are certainly in agreement with my plans.

 

As she decides to yield to my lance, it is the culmination of the journey of a thousand miles. The “journey of a thousand miles”, it is a symbol of a large goal. It’s a goal or a project, that a seems insurmountable at first glance, like landing on the moon. Some see the 1969 launch of Apollo eleven, and Neil Armstrong walking on the moon as one event. It wasn’t. It was the last leg, the last step at the end of a thousand mile journey that started decades earlier. That “one small step… ” may indeed have seemed like a small step but compared to the baby steps of rocketry in the 1930’s, launching an Apollo spacecraft was a great leap forward.

 

That “one small step”, reaching the moon, the last leg of the thousand mile journey is often a much greater stride that the first tentative steps we take initially. The culmination of the journey in 1969 began as baby-steps; a paper written by a high school mathematics teacher in 1903, (Konstantin Tsiolkovsky (1857–1935) published The Exploration of Cosmic Space by Means of Reaction Devices) a lecture on rocket theory and interplanetary travel by a French airplane designer, (Robert Esnault-Pelterie (1881-1957) then the early analysis of solid fuel rockets in 1912 by Robert Goddard. This analysis lead to his experimentation and publication of A Method of Reaching Extreme Altitudes in 1920. What we started with those baby steps, the halting, start-stop-fall, holding on to the familiar, ends with great strides.

 

We are transformed through the journey. The person we are when we set foot on the path is not the same person at the end of those thousand miles. The person we are setting that goal is not the same person completing it. The tools we have at our disposal at the outset are often updated, upgraded, on our journey. Hopefully we gain skill and achieve mastery while on this journey. We build upon our baby steps. We add muscle to those baby legs. We end like wonder woman with long, strong legs capable of great strides forward.

 

Lynda Carter 03ps. If you get the chance, go see this lovely songstress in person! I know she’ll be here in New York at the Apple Room (Jazz at Lincoln Center) April 17th and 18th. Or check her out at Lynda’s Website.

Something I find Sexy – Sofia Vergara Golden Globes

golden-globes-2012-sofia-vergaraThe bountiful endowment of one of television’s most luscious ladies, Sofia Vergara, is definitely something I find sexy. Much like the epics of ancient days she has the curves that could launch a thousand ships. And like those ancient conveyances I’m sure these are also made of firm, hardwood. Yes, as I take yet another journey on, as Carl Sagan put it so nicely, the ship of the imagination, I can see her towering over me.

Lying under her, I can feel her slowly lowering herself onto my firm erection. I can feel her hesitate against the resistance. Holding her hips, I thrust myself up and then I feel myself sliding solidly into her. I continue to hold onto her hips as we begin gently rocking together. I feel the motion working its magic. As the two of us get acquainted. I can feel my pulsing cock turning her on and heating her up. I enjoy the feel of the warm, wet folds of pussy lips as they wrap themselves around my cock. Thrusting up into her I listen as she moans in acquiesce. It encourages me to quicken the pace. This turns the heat in her up another notch. She is so sexy, gorgeous, and strong, rolling and grinding down on me. Her hair whipping around as she moans louder. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she leans over me.

I feel myself urged on, encouraged by her moaning, her breath falling heavier as she’s rocking back and forth on me. I thrust further into her, exciting her. My hard cock with its piston motion is increasing the stimulation racing through her. As she moves faster her breathing gets heavier. Then slow throaty groan escapes from her as waves of pleasure surge inside her. Looking up I see her delicious, firm, round globes swaying in front of me. They tease my hungry eyes. I reach out my tongue to tweak her large erect areolae. Those beautiful, round globes swaying, swaying, I hear her saying something to me as I focus on pleasuring her. I focus on those breasts of hers… Beautiful, firm, round globes swaying… I watch them rise and fall on her chest. I see them swelling as I hear her climaxing as I again thrust deep into the radiating from her sex. Oh those beautiful, bountiful, round globes! And that’s when it hit me!

Tautologies! How often am I bombarded by tautologies? Well, more often than I am bombarded by the devastatingly bombshell beauty of Ms. Vergara’s breasts. Those gorgeous round globes! There it is again.

A Tautology are similar to an oxymoron. Most people are aware of the more common oxymora, where two conflicting words are joined together, consider ‘jumbo shrimp’, ‘defending silence’, or the often cited humorously ‘military intelligence’. Tautologies are two words that when combined together are repetitious or redundant.

There are numerous examples of tautologies and they pop up on surprising places. Open example of a tautology would be calling something very, or extremely unique. Unique, by itself does not need a qualifier. When you say something is rare, it’s perfectly acceptable to qualify an occurrence as ‘very rare’. But unique, by definition, is one of a kind. If something is one of a kind it can’t be ‘extremely one of a kind’ one mean one.

Another tautology that is so overused is ‘advanced warning’. Well, of course the warning is advanced… Warnings precede events therefore they are always ‘advanced’. Yelling “What out for that ball!” before someone gets hit is a warning. There is nothing advanced about it. Yelling “what out for the ball” after it hits the guy isn’t a warning. Its a YouTube clip title.

They surround us everywhere, from ‘final results’, and ‘join together’, to ‘free gift’ and ‘added bonus’. They are often used to emphasize a point but quite often we start using them without even being aware of the repetition.

They are extremely common when using acronyms:
• CD-ROM disc
• DVD disk
• GPS system
• HIV virus
• ISBN number
• PIN number
• Please R.S.V.P. (Please in already in the French phrase for this abbreviation)
• RAM memory
• RAS syndrome
• SARS syndrome
• UPC code
• VIN number

When you think about it, it seems obvious. You wouldn’t write out Vehicle Identification Number Number, but when you write VIN number, somehow we forget that VIN already has ‘number’ there. Check yourself before you wreck yourself! Repetition of beautiful breasts is a wonderful thing, repetition of words, should draw a response from your grammar checker.

Something I find Sexy – Taylor Swift Spanx

Taylor Swift Ass

Taylor Swift Assumes the Position

The photo speaks for itself. I think Taylor Swift needs a little more time ‘assuming the position”. We all know the little girl laying just below the surface. What a spankable little girl. She cultivates an image of a fresh-faced ingénue, doe eyed and pouty lipped. She puts effort into her ‘girl’ mask and then seems somewhat disappointed when we don’t take her seriously.

I picture her bent over, blindfolded with black silk clothe tied securely behind her soft shoulder length blond hair. Her supple limbs tied behind her with black silk ribbon at the wrists. The black color highlighting the creamy smooth flawless skin.

I see myself in this scene of the imagination, easing those tight red shorts down off her curved ass. Then, relieving her of those awfully tight Spanx she wears underneath, I run my hand over her ass. I enjoy feeling her warm flesh. I feel her tension easing as my hand works its way over her exposed skin in a reassuring, soft and gently way. Her mind, racing around from thought to though like a rabbit bolting to escape the wolf, has started to tire and she is now focusing her attention on the stimulus that I alone provide. She’s ready. Warm, compliant, receptive to the task at hand. For I’m my other hand I hold the crop.

“Spare the rod spoil the child”, a beloved quote embossed on the handle of this special crop. The cop I hold is a legacy that has been entrusted to me. Judiciously applied it helps to focus the mind and that’s really what’s needed in this case, a bit more focus.

“Thank you sir. May I have another.” That’s what I want to hear coming from the perfectly pouty lips.

“Whack!” the sharp retort of a riding crop coming into swift contact with warm willing flesh.

I was watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show which was a very nice showcase for Taylor’s toned tushie. She certainly is filling out nicely. Too bad the head isn’t quite working on all cylinders. That’s where focus comes in. She needs to have a bit of focus instilled in her.

 

A simply flight of fancy but getting back to I miss Swift   and this concept of a crafted ‘girl’ media image. We see this age of being twenty-something as an age of transition. I find many women in their twenties , especially the early twenties to be able to play the part of mature sexy woman one minute, then turn right around and transform to the silly teenage girl with alarming alacrity and agility.

I hear people parroting one of the messages that the media broadcasts to us masses, that fifty is the new forty, forty is the new thirty, blah blah blah. I used to think that it was because we are living longer, and to a point I’m sure that plays a part of it, but then at the other end of the election, twenty is becoming the new teenager. Delayed or postponed maturation.

Taylor is trapped in this in between zone, yes she’s a professional creative performer musician with a mature body of pop music, and yet she still is the goofy sweet girl finding her way in the world. Its a dichotomy that almost every twenty-something is going through.

I’m thinking about pop stars like Karmin, Demi Lovato, and Carly Rae Jepsen. These young girls as they try to move forward and mature through their twenties have such a bright media spotlight on them. The normal slips and trips in the maturation process are highlights, twittered, and TMZ’ed for everyone to see.

And this its the exclusive dilemma of females, for every Taylor Swift bending over for a little ‘focus’ there’s a Justin Bieber in need of his own maturation.

Something I find Sexy – Freedom of Speech

the-veil-is-sexy02-711305She approaches my bed. I lay waiting for her. She moves with seduction in her hips. They sway hypnotically with a well-practiced rhythm. No doubt she has had many, many liaisons before me. But she is here with me now.

 

Her cinnamon skin glows from the torches lighting the tent.   My eyes slowly drink her in, like an intoxicant. Her long lean legs meeting at her slender waist. Her toned abs, firm breasts and soft rounded shoulders are an invitation to a night of delights. The memory of her arms around me, her nails on raking along my back, washes over me. My erection grows in response.

 

And all the while through her seduction, I keep watching her eyes. Her dark, almond eyes have a look of lust behind the veil she wears. The red and gold trimmed niqab is the only garment she still cares to adorn herself with.

 

To say she is a wife of a profit, would surely put a price on my head.

 

Changing very few words in that last sentence, adding a bit more ‘clarification’ could be very, very serious for a writer indeed. To imagine an erotic liaison involving one of the several wives the prophet would be dangerous because there are people in this world who do not believe that other people should have the right of free speech or free expression.

 

The culture in which I was raised is a secular one, a western tradition of fairly broad free speech and free expression. I can understand that there are people with deeply held religious beliefs. Their beliefs are their own. I am sure that those beliefs are sincerely held. But those beliefs should not be forced upon me.

 

I believe in free speech and free expression. My beliefs are sincerely held and they are my own.

 

If people are offended by something stop reading it. If it offends their beliefs stop watching it. Respect is a two way street. If they refuse to respect the rights of others, why should they expect others to respect their rights?

Something I Find Sexy – Scarlett Johansson’s Pouty Lips in the Spirit : Do It Everyday

Scarlett Johansson Pouty Lips the Spirit

Scarlett Johansson Pouty Lips the Spirit

Scarlett Johansson is certainly sexy. This image from the movie ‘The Spirit’ really highlights a couple of her assets. I like the ‘girlie’ blond curls, horn rimmed glasses, eminently kissable cleavage, but it’s those lips! Those plump, pouty, painted, penis-pleasers! I sit back and slowly let myself drift off in a ship of the imagination (borrowed from Carl Sagan).

 

I picture here slowly walking up to me while in seating in a large leather chair. She’s not so much walking as she is swaying. Swinging her hips in six inch stiletto heels one foot in front of the other. She’s working the floor and working me stiff, and she knows it. The tent forming in front of my blue silk robe betrays my cool, indifferent face as I take another sip of the scotch from the glass on the side table. Yes, she knows she’s got my interest. She bends over to kiss me with those soft silken floss lips. I let the kiss linger feeling her fingers at the belt of my robe. As she releases my growing erection she lowers herself to her knees with a practiced fluid motion.

 

She runs her hands up my thighs. Then her fingers wrap themselves around my stiff shaft. Her firm grip excites me. My cock pulses in her hand. Its ready and waiting for her. Then I feel her lips slowly taking in the head. Her tongue teasing around it wetting the tip. She’s taking her time and I’m in no rush. I enjoy another sip of scotch and settle in for the pleasure to come as I run my hand though her curly blonde hair.

 

After teasing the tip she takes the full length down in one sift action. Applying a little suction from that sweet mouth. I feel the ebb of pleasure starting to rise within me. She runs her tongue along my shaft before taking me down again. A low groan escapes from me as I feel my cock pulse inside her warm wet mouth. She bobs up and down taking me further and further to the brink of orgasm. Pleasure floods though me as I moan deeply, like a wounded animal. It only encourages her. She starts sucking stronger as I fight to hold back. She is building a bubble of bliss within me, and her mouth and tongue and teeth work to burst it.

 

I’m thrusting into that beautiful bottomless mouth. She takes my cock whole, like a demon. I’m driving further into her mouth with each penetrating thrust. I start openly fucking those hungry lips of hers. I go deeper and deeper as she drives me further and further. I can barely hold on as I hold her head with both hands thrusting …

 

It’s a ship of the imagination of course. Now, imagine this scene playing out once a week. You would be enjoying this fifty two times in a year. I’m sure her lips would feel just as wonderful on that fifty second time as they did on the first. Watching her head bob up and down fifty two times a year would be nice indeed.

 

But think of other things that happen once a week, like watching your favorite show, or going to church, or in some cases, exercise. Think for a moment of doing something fifty two times. Now, recall that a year has three hundred and sixty five days and what seemed like a lot, isn’t. That puts things in more perspective. If you did it twice a week you would of course double the instances to one hundred and four times I’m a year. Perhaps you sleep late on the weekends. You would sleep in late, one hundred and four times a year.

 

Perhaps you blog. Some people blog every day, three hundred sixty five posts in a year. Perhaps you give yourself the weekend off. Posting Monday through Friday would have you posting two hundred and sixty times a year. This sounds like a lot until you think about driving to work is the same two hundred and sixty. Then you realizes that you drive home again, so driving to work, then driving back home is five hundred and twenty trips in the car and that doesn’t include your weekend errands. If you blogged on the ride to works (perhaps you take mass transit as I do) and you blog on the way home, you instantly double your output.

 

But for really large numbers consider the things you do a couple of times a day. If you have three meals a day you would be chowing down one thousand ninety five times this year, and last year, and probably the year before that. Why, in just five short years you’ve had five thousand four hundred and seventy five meals. How many of them were spent at McDonald’s, come on… Really?

 

But let’s break this thought experiment down even further. Suppose you had music lessons. Imagine those lessons lasting one hour once a week. If that was all the playing that you did, just that one hour once a week, then you would have only fifty two hours of practice in a whole year of eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours. Yup, do the math, three hundred and sixty five days multiplied by twenty four hours each day… 8,760! But if you practiced one hour three times a week, in addition to your lesson. Then you would have put in two hundred and eight hours. Yes, you would have four times the amount of practice that the once a week person has.

 

And that leads me to the practice of writing. I’ve read about committing just one hour a day to writing. It could be sitting down nice a day for a full hour, or you could break it into two half-hour sittings. But try to get one hour a day to sit and write.

 

One hour a day, three times a week would be 156 hours for the year. That doesn’t sound so bad considering that there are 8,760 hours in the average year and you spend 2,555 of those asleep (assuming that you sleep seven hours a night) spending only 156 of the waking 6,205 isn’t asking much.

 

But I encourage you. If thou really want to make the commitment, vomit an hour a day to your writing. Even if you spent an hour a day every day, you would a still have 5,840 hours with which to eat, work, play, catch up with your Kardashians, or perhaps catch Scarlet Johansson in a movie. Doesn’t she have such lovely lips! Now, imagine her keeping her tongue twirling around its target. I’ll bet you could do that for a couple of minutes each day.

Something I Find Sexy – Christie Brinkley : Swim Harder

Christie Brinkley Swimsuit

Christie Brinkley Swimsuit

She emerges from the surf wet and breathless. She approaches me swaying her hips provocatively. Her body has the long lean lines of a predatory cat. Her movements are decidedly feline, graceful and effective. I cannot take my eyes from her. I wrap my arms around her waist as she wraps hers around my neck. Our lips meet. I find myself falling into her kiss as if falling down a well, or more like a tunnel.

 

It’s been years since we’ve been here and that tunnel through which I am kissing her transports us back. It’s as if we never left this beach those many years ago. Those lips of her haven’t changed. No, the only change is the renewed passion with which she uses them.

 

Her breasts press against my chest with a renewed vibrancy and I receive her with a fired up lust of my own. We were magic back then and by god the witch is back in her eye. I’m sure her charms are as effective as ever. My reaction to her is primal. I must have her, now. Like it was when we were then, passion ablaze, I want only to take her and ravish the rest of her body with these lips.

 

It’s been what, ten years now? Ten years since I received some very good advice. Larry came up to my desk one day while I was working and said to me “Swim harder”. There was a little bit more, but that is the nugget. The nugget of truth and good advice. Alas, its advice I did not put into practice.

 

Why? That is the question I return to now. It was so ‘on the mark’. He was tall, six three, lean and had thick white hair even though he was only in his forties. He was a programmer on the database side of the aisle. I was a programmer on the internet/intranet side of the aisle. We didn’t interact on a daily basis, our projects pretty much ran independently. But he was a man of insight, of that much I’m sure.

 

It was good advice then, and its good advice now. I have heard that it’s never too late to learn a new lesson. Old dogs, new trick, that old axiom rings in my ear. Although I do not often look at the past to dwell on regrets, I am at times reflective. There seems to be something about this time of year, not new year’s, that brings about my reflective self.

 

New year’s is a time of looking forward. I’m an optimist by nature. At least that’s what I tell myself. But by creating such a mantra for myself, am I burying my head in the sands of denial? I look around at where I am and I don’t often see much progress. But that’s the problem with my ethereal, intangible goals.

 

Yes, that’s where I think the problem lies. My goals need to be focused. They need to be more defined. I’ve read about ‘SMART‘ goals. Goals that are: specific, measurable, attainable, realistic and timely.

 

Goals need to be specific. There has to be a definition for them. Think of the six ‘W’ questions; who, what, when, where, why, and which. Answer as many of these as possible for each of your goals. “Get fit” is not a specific goal. “Loose twenty pounds in two months by watching my diet and exercising three days a week” is a specific goal.

 

Goals need to be measurable. Your goal needs a success criteria. How do you know when it’s been obtained? It needs measurable benchmarks or milestones. “Lose twenty pounds in two months” is a good goal. It can be measured. Setting smaller goals of two and a half pounds per week makes that goal even more measurable.

 

Goals need to be attainable. When you set a goal, you need to ask yourself if this is something that you are actually able to do.

 

Similarly, goals need to be realistic. You can set high goals for yourself, but be honest about both your abilities, and your willingness to pursue a certain goal.

 

Goals should also be timely. When developing your goals, don’t let them run on indefinitely. Bound them. Set time parameters. There’s nothing like a deadline for attuning the mind to its task. I think there is a quote about that floating around the internet. So it must be true.

Something I Find Sexy – Anne Hathaway in Skin Tight Spandex and Leather Boots

anne_hathaway_catwoman_tallThe Dark Knight Definitely Rises!

Anne Hathaway in a skin tight black spandex-leather outfit. And I mean Skin tight! The sight of her in this production still is drop dead gorgeous. Action figure! That best describes Anne as Catwoman. She is outfitted for action.

There’s a scene in the movie where she’s dancing with ‘Bruce Wayne’ and I can picture the scene in my mind and make edits to create my own director’s cut. The first edit is the costume change, getting Anne out of that dress and into this cat suit. Then, as I play the scene in my mind while we’re dancing I lead her away to a cozy little room. Closing the door, I feel her melting in my embrace as I reach down to firmly kiss those soft, red lips of hers and make known my less than honorable intentions. Yes, I intend to pleasure her to within an inch of her life mwahahaha.

Unzipping that outfit i can see her young, firm breasts springing out at me. They are eager for the attention of my lips as they are released from their confinement. Her smooth taught belly is warm against mine. I can feel her deft fingers making quick work unfastening my pants and releasing my growing erection. It pulses warm in her hand as her firm grasp excites me. My tongue wraps itself around hers.

As our tongues intertwine, I lay her down on the spacious bed adorned in white linens, where our limbs intertwine. I feel her long legs wonderfully wrap around me as my hands explore her nubile body. I run them along her, finding the spots she finds most sensitive. As my lips travel along her neck I feel her breath hot against my cheek.

I can hear her breathing becoming heavy as my lips and fingers continue their stimulation. Working her to a soft moaning I feel her hands reaching down and guiding my hard cock into her wet and waiting pussy. As I feel the claw if her nails on my back, I thrust my erection deep into her, impaling her with it. She lets a gasp escape those lush lips. Then I smile, listening to her moans as she starts to ride those early waves of pleasure flooding through her mind and loins.

She’s poised, ready for action. She knows what’s she’s doing and she’s ready to execute it. I need a bit of that. Too often I have an opportunity to write, where I get a break in the day, and with my trusty tablet at my side I could easily pick it up, turn it on and start working on a project. But often, I’m not prepared mentally to take advantage of those moments. I need to have a plan, a ‘go to’ plan where I’m ready to continue on my projects when the opportunity arises.

I’m thinking that by spending the time when I can’t write, focused on the stories that I’m working on, when I do get those writing times, I’ll be ready to go. I’ll be in the flow, fast not slow. I could be a real ‘action’ figure.

When I think about these productivity systems, like the seven habits, or the GTD (Getting Things Done) I am seduced. I start thinking about developing a habit for getting productive. It’s a sirens song of accomplishing the numerous little projects that I start. Perhaps if I didn’t start so many little projects in the first place. But aye, there’s the rub.

I lack action, but is it because I lack actionables? No! With my to do list ever growing there is no shortage of actionables.

But did I possess the motivation?

To get anything done, to accomplish any task you need three things… What, how and want. You need to know what to do. What is it that you actually need to do… Be specific.

Then you have to have the knowledge, the ‘how’ to do. If you do not have the knowledge to accomplish a task, then no matter how much you may want to do something, it isn’t getting done. Or at least not getting done correctly.

Then third, there is the ‘want’ to do… The will if you wish. It’s the motivation that actually gets you off the couch and swatting that damn fly buzzing around.

If you know what to do, and how to do, then do…

Have you noticed though that ‘why’ has not factored into this analysis? The reason for that is because in the realm of accomplishing tasks on the to do list ‘why’ is irrelevant. The fact that the task is on the list is its one reason.

Why is the question that gets a task on the list, and is a topic all its own. I’ll leave that for another day. See, another little project is born, just like that. But, at least THIS little essay is now ‘accomplished’. I have spoken my piece and I shall check it off my list of to-do’s and ‘sha-zam!’ a man of action is born. Now, where is that Catwoman…

Something I Find Sexy – Christina Hendricks with a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label

Christina Hendricks Black Label

Christina Hendricks Black Label

I love this picture. Quite simply Christina Hendricks has the curves of a goddess. These are not some dumb bunny bouncy curves, no sir! These are a woman’s curves of style, of substance, and of understated sophistication. No superficial smalltalk fluff here. This picture features her in a curve hugging black cocktail dress. The plunging neckline frames epic cleavage. You could probably here an echo in there! The black background is less than optimal to really appreciate the curvy hoops. Her hands on her hips are needed to highlight them.

 

But the poor lighting in this shot is an excellent opportunity to slowly follow the outline on that dress from the hem at her knee up, up, up, to the sloping hip. From that heavenly hip follow along upwards and inwards to her nicely proportioned waist. Hmmm, imagine wrapping your arms around that waist. Imagine a lover’s embrace evocative of Rubens and Flemish Baroque Paintings.

 

Let your hands wander up from her waist to cup her beauteous breasts. They weigh heavy in the hand a generous portion, a blessing of abundance. Soft pendulous orbs capped with sweet, erect nipples. They’re proportioned perfectly to her hips. There is no hint of augmentation. There are a tier of c list celeb-utants, top-heavy bouncy bimbets, whose silicon candy mountains are built with no sense of scale to the rest of the woman to whom they are attached. And they just look comical. The siren spheres of Ms. Hendricks fit her naturally.

 

But let’s not stop there, no! Continue from her soft shoulders up to her slender neck. I like a woman’s hair styled up to expose the neck. It is an oft overlooked erogenous zone. Placing a series of warm soft kisses along it can produce quiet a positive reaction. And it’s such a short journey from planting kisses on her neck to tasting the lusciousness of her lips. And I’m hoping they taste of scotch!

 

The composition of this photo, the stunning red head in the hugging black dress with a simple scotch on the rocks is class. We use that word a lot nowadays. But its real meaning changes from person to person. It’s a lot like pornography, I know it when I see it.

 

Scotch they say, is an acquired taste, and Johnnie Walker black label is a gift in good taste. As we are on the subject let me add from my own experience, aged blended scotch and red haired women both have great taste. But taste is one of those subjective things about which there is rarely any universal agreement.

 

Although I drink the red label scotch on the rocks, the black label I drink neat. Often i have it with a splash of water. I find the black label to be reflective. I can sit, pour a couple fingers, splash a little water over it and spend some quiet time with an old friend just enjoying their presence.

 

The Johnnie Walker black label is an blended scotch aged twelve years in oak barrels. In the universe of scotch, the there are five classifications:

  • Single Malt Scotch (distilled from water and malted barley at only one distillery)
  • Single Grain Scotch (distilled from water, malted barley, and an additional grain such as rye, added to the mix, at only one distillery.
  • Blended Malt Scotch (a blend of two or more single malt scotches from different distilleries)
  • Blended Grain Scotch (a blend of two or more single grain scotches from different distilleries)
  • Blended Scotch (a blend of at least one single malt and at least one single grain scotches)

 

The ‘single’ in the single malt and single grain is a focus on the one distillery. Where a scotch is distilled, in any of the five regions (Highlands, lowlands, Speyside, Islay, and Cambeltown) has an impact on the taste of the scotch. Usually because of the various qualities in local water sources. Blending scotches can be used to highlight or diminish regional variations in the whiskey.

 

You could product a blended scotch combining several highland distilleries into a single ‘highland’ blend (the northern highland scotches noted for their peat and spicy character, the southern highlands noted for their peat and fruity character)

 

In this universe of scotch, I would consider Ms. Hendricks to be a single malt from Speyside. The ‘single malt’ representing the non-augmentation of her beauty, and the ‘Speyside’, (along the river spey) a region known for its complex and aromatic scotch.

 

 

A good scotch, like a good woman should be appreciated for the experience. This golden liquid aught not be wasted doing shots, as if it were some tasteless vodka or pedestrian whiskey. Think of your lover’s lips, the way you linger over them with a kiss. Scotch is no quickie. Sure, there is a time and a place where a quickly is called for. That’s as place for some lesser libation. Scotch is more like the romantic weekend, something to be savored slowly. Its nuances should be fully explored, like the curves of a voluptuous redhead.