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.