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It started innocently enough.
A text from JC, we text each other on and off every day,  sometimes jokes sometimes more personal. This was just a joke.
Father and son in supermarket.  “Dad. what are these?” “Thats a 3 pack of condoms son for secondary school lads. 1 for Friday, 1 for Saturday and 1 for Sunday night”. “What about the 6 pack dad?” “Those are for University lads. 2 for friday, 2 for saturday and 2 for sunday night.”  “Well dad, what about the 12 pack then?” “Married men son,1 for january, 1 for february, 1 for march………” xx
What about divorced men what size pack do they need? xx

**I started writing this post early last week. Life took a turn and it had to be put on hold. I now share our reunion from one week ago**
It was exactly as I had imagined it.
I made mention that I was “dressed to kill”, however, when I picked up Sylvanus from the airport, I was anything but that. I wore my normal look of t-shirt and jeans. It’s what’s on the inside that counts the most right? Beneath my “street” clothes, I was dressed to impress.

Hobbies are wonderful things for people who hate money. Photography is a really good hobby in this way, because it can suck money off in any amount you can dish it out. Right now, my current allotment of equipment that I use for our pictures has run about…*cocks heads*…*counts on fingers*…$600. And it is, by any standard for photographers, a shoestring setup. For instance, this week’s HNT was shot through the cheapest lens I can buy for my camera (which costs an are-you-serious $80) , with a white sheet stapled (yes, stapled) to the ceiling, and a bunch of lamps behind it. At the same time, I love doing it. I love having an idea, and finding a way to show Mina the way I see her.

I wonder what she is thinking right now…

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This photo was from the addition to the Tie album.
Photography
2009 HNT Gallery

I love my pussy.
There I said it.
As much time as I spend bitching about what I don’t like about me, there are certain parts of me I do adore. Like my incredibly long eye lashes, my back, my breasts, my ass and my pussy. (Though I wish my pussy looked more like a porn star’s).
I have a tight pussy. Plain and simple. I’ve never had children. I have never masturbated with insanely huge dildos/objects. I have never been fisted. I’m a small girl which also adds to the small size and tightness.

There has been a lot going on around here.
Since my cryosurgery things haven’t been as wonderful as I was hoping they would be. My 3 weeks are over this weekend and Sylvanus and I only had 1 sexual encounter this whole time. Not surprisingly enough, it was on Valentine’s Day.

He saw them walking down the gravel path towards the duck ponds, she is short with wavy dark hair wearing a loose white top over a lurid pink mini skirt and flip flops that make that flipping sound as she walks. The man is much taller with short brown hair, jeans and black t-shirt. They are laughing and holding hands. They stop by the railings gazing down at the stagnant water where a fallen tree trunk is preventing the water from flowing over the stepping stones down to the next level and the next pond. They chat pointing at things they see then he takes her in his arms and kisses her. She reaches up and kisses him back with her arms around his neck. They kiss for an age before moving off along the path still chatting nineteen to the dozen.

Within each of us burns a fire. For some of us that fire burns brightly for others there is a small ember glowing in the dark. Even these small embers can be whipped up into a blazing fire but it needs a lot of encouragement to do so. For most of you who read this blog your fire burns in a healthy manner. For a fair few of you I know that your desire burns more brightly than your life allows you to show.
My own fire within is tempered by the lack of my man being at my side as I would wish him to be. But I make up for that by writing this blog and reading others. With the help of a select few bloggers I am able to allow the flames of my desire to reach a desired intensity from time to time as I struggle to keep my embers from going out. 

As Mina mentioned in the Valentine’s Day story, our romantic night concluded with us back home, and my putting my tie on her, and using that to guide her around. At the end of the night, she hung the tie, still tied in the original knot, on our door, and we saved it until this week’s HNT to share with you.

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This is a post about the post I wrote, but didn’t post.
I spent roughly an hour tonight beating a post out of my head about the craft of writing, and the integrity of one’s craft…and then, I realized I was bored writing it, and it wasn’t going anywhere. I first decided to save the draft to look at later, but I knew it would go the path of every other post I sent to purgatory when I eventually decided I didn’t like it. So, I decided to heed the advice Peter Farrelly gave to Matt Damon: