Origins (2)

Childhood, as I've shared previously, holds some fascinating memories for me that have impacted my eventual D/s & BDSM orientation. Recent web discussions opened a drawer of my mind I hadn't looked into for a long time... comic books. As I gave it some thought, it just exploded in my mind that absolutely hands-down, the most significant is the above edition of Superman comics, Superman #261, titled "Slave of Star Sapphire".

Superman was my favorite superhero as a child. I don't know how often I read this story in my teen years (OK, OK... and later). For many years, I didn't understand its appeal, but later, once I had gained a greater awareness and a better understanding of my feelings for D/s, it clicked... big time. Did it contribute? Or does it explain?

With my gratitude going to Cascadian for his amazing post in Captain Comics, here is a synopsis of the comic book, slightly shortened/edited by me. Links to the cover image are provided below the synopsis.

The cover is absolutely amazing. Star Sapphire hovers several inches over the blacktop of Metropolis. Kneeling before her is Superman as she commands: “I command you to kiss my boot, Superman! Let the whole world see you’ve become my slave!” Behind her, Lois, Jimmy, Perry, and a crowd of Metropolitans look on in shock. The Grand Comics Database doesn’t specify who drew the cover so I presume it is Curt Swan with Murphy Anderson, the same wonder duo who provide the interior art.

The splash page for “Slave of Star Sapphire!” (written by Cary Bates and edited, of course, by Julius Schwartz) gives a very brief description of who Carol Ferris & Star Sapphire are. This is just in case the reader had never read an issue of Green Lantern. Which I hadn’t. At this point, my knowledge of Green Lantern came entirely from the Super Friends cartoon so I had no idea who Carol Ferris, much less Star Sapphire, was.

The story starts with Lois Lane at the Metropolis Museum, interviewing the curator about the Star Sapphire exhibit about to open. The exhibit includes the actual gem that provides Star Sapphire with her power. Lois remembers a couple of headlines about Star Sapphire battling Green Lantern and how she wanted to beat him so she could marry him(!). The curator loans Lois a replica costume for her article and recommends that she model it due to her resemblance to the villainess.

The Metropolis airport must be well outside the city, for Clark Kent is riding a helicopter shuttle from the airport to the city. Also on this short flight: Carol Ferris. Using his telescopic vision, Clark sees trouble on the outskirts of the city at a tavern called the Green Lantern. Inside the tavern is a wanted man, Max Fenton, wearing a vest of high explosives that could wipe the entire neighborhood off the map quite easily.

Clark hits an emergency ejection button that fires his seat out the side of the helicopter and then deploys parachutes for a safe landing, his sleeping seat-mate (an business man whose name is not given) is just along for the ride. As the stewardess on the chopper puts it: “They’re quite safe! One of them must’ve accidentally hit their chute-ejector button, that’s all!” Clark uses his super-breath to aim the falling seat to the roof of a skyscraper so he can change clothes without being seen. As Superman flies away, Clark’s seat-mate finally wakes up.

With the blessing of the police, Superman carefully approaches the Green Lantern tavern (which a footnote says appeared previously, in a 1964 Action Comics story). Watching from the helicopter using a handy pair of binoculars, Carol Ferris watches Superman’s actions. She starts feeling odd when she sees the name of the establishment Superman is walking towards. Superman inhales deeply and then blows just enough air into the building to cause it to collapse.

Fenton stands dumbfounded, scarcely able to believe that the building has fallen apart but left him standing unharmed. He threatens Superman with the nitro in his vest. It can’t hurt Superman, of course, but can still damage all the nearby buildings. Superman whips off his indestructible cape and flings it around Fenton. If the nitro detonates now, only Fenton will be harmed by it. The villain starts to collapse and begs Superman to catch him and prevent the explosives from detonating.

Carol Ferris has been watching all this but her fevered mind doesn’t see what is actually happening. Instead of home grown terrorist Max Fenton, Ferris sees Green Lantern. As far as she is concerned, Superman wrapped GL in his cape and used it to squeeze the life out of him. Although Superman’s real opponent has simply fainted in fear, Ferris believes that the Man of Steel has killed the Emerald Gladiator. This completely subverts the Carol Ferris personality, leaving only Star Sapphire. She swears revenge on Superman, vowing to make him her slave. Although currently lacking the power to do so, she can sense that his power gem is nearby. At the Metropolis Museum, the curator discovers that the gem on display isn’t the real one. He surmises that the actual gem was in the replica costume that he loaned Lois. Lois, meanwhile, is needling Clark about disappearing from an in-flight helicopter just prior to Superman appearing. Clark sees the Star Sapphire costume in the package that Lois is carrying and decides it might be fun to turn the tables on her. He lets her become comfortable in her office and then makes a flimsy excuse to go in and see her. He uses x-ray vision to find the costume in her desk and then heat vision to short circuit the transistors in her electronic desk, causing the drawers to burst open. He can’t help but see the costume now and appears shocked by the idea that Lois might be the infamous alien queen. She truthfully denies it and both are shocked as the “fake” gem rises, spinning from the replica costume’s tiara. It flies out the door and down the hall into the waiting had of its true owner, transforming her physically from Carol Ferris to Star Sapphire!

Clark had run down the hall after the flying gem and is the first to see the returned villainess. She blasts him through elevator doors while shouting, “I shall permit nothing to interfere with my hunt for Green Lantern’s killer!” The metal elevator doors would have stopped (and likely killed) a normal man but the Metropolis Marvel goes right through them. He’s unable to stop his fall in the shaft in time and the great force of his impact on the elevator car causes the cable to snap. Grabbing the broken cable, he flies back up and ties the two broken ends together while the terrified passengers escape out onto a safe floor.

As he changes into costume, Superman wonders how Green Lantern could be dead without his fellow Justice League members knowing about it. Already outside the Galaxy Broadcasting building, Star Sapphire has started a reign of terror to draw out her love’s “killer.” Sure enough, Superman finds the destruction on the street and is ambushed by Star Sapphire. “Your hour of judgment has come, super-murderer! Green Lantern’s brutal death will now be avenged!” she yells. Superman holds back because his personal code doesn’t let him strike a woman. Star Sapphire drops down on him from above, placing a chain with the gem of power around his neck. Even off of her body, the gem is still under her power and now Superman’s will is subverted by the gem.

She forbids him to remove the gem or to open his mouth and plead for help. Superman uses super-ventriloquism to call to Lois who is still inside the building. Lois looks out and sees a scene very similar to that on the cover of this issue: Superman kissing the boot of Star Sapphire! The Astral Queen’s next order is for Superman to “Destroy the Galaxy Building and everyone in it!” Superman literally can’t help himself and starts racing to fulfill his dreadful task but emerging from the building is…Star Sapphire?!? This Star Sapphire and the true one start giving Superman contradicting orders. When the second Star Sapphire orders the Man of Tomorrow to fly straight into the air, the real one orders him to fly straight back down. This causes the chain and gem to fall off of Superman’s neck and he regains his freedom. Star Sapphire catches the falling gem and teleports away, vowing vengeance once again.

The second Star Sapphire was Lois. She gambled that the similarity between her and the real McCoy would confuse Superman. It allowed her desperate ploy of having him fly up, only to be ordered down by the woman enslaving him. Lois worries about what Clark will say if he finds out about her being in costume. Superman assures her, “I promise, Lois…he’ll never hear it from me!”

The next day, Carol Ferris is going about her business in Metropolis. She sees the Daily Planet headline proclaiming that Green Lantern has saved an alien world from disaster and feels oddly relieved…although she doesn’t know why...

http://www.comicbookdb.com/graphics/comic_graphics/1/103/55464_20060801174835_large.jpg

http://www.rtsunlimited.com/CoverPages/superman%23261.htm

The perfect life...

The subject of what would consitute one's "perfect life" came up in a femdom discussion forum, including characteristics such as age, looks, and style, and I found myself giving it a bit of thought...

Perfect? I don't know about "perfect". Life is such that with further travel down one's journey, "perfect" changes. Life is about change. But that leads to the first element of my "perfect", or perhaps "ideal" life, and that is to have someone to grow with, inside a D/s relationship and outside.

Age? My mistress should be old enough to understand that relationships are complex, that they are two-way streets, and that they require some work to be successful. Also, she should be old enough to know that dominance is an integral part of who she is, and that she has a desire, a need to play this out as a significant part of her life. She should be young and fit enough to be physically able to implement whatever her evil mind can conjure.

Looks/appearance? Doesn't really matter. The brain is still the sexiest, most erotic organ of the body, and the key to the beauty and intensity of power exchange. I'll choose a woman with some nipple clamps and a mischevious smile over a super-model any day of the week.

In my perfect life, I can fulfill the needs of my mistress on a variety of levels, from catering to her whims, serving her to make her life more pleasant and easier, to engaging her in discussions and experiences that will give her opportunities to live a richer life and to grow herself. Presumptuous perhaps, but I would feel that I would fall short of the mark if I would not be capable of such an impact in her life.

In my perfect life, every moment I spend outside of work is framed within the context of our D/s relationship. That includes any downtime my mistress requires. I know it's much easier to be submissive 24 hours a day than to be dominant 24 hours a day, and I respect the fact that my mistress might/would need some time on her own, and not be focused on me. I've never believed in many people's expectations of full-time slavery because it isn't realistic to expect to be followed around with a crop constantly. That being said, D/s should be tremendously important to her, and it should permeate our relationship to such an extent that even if we are not engaged directly in BDSM activities for hours/days/weeks, that the D/s under-current is always there.

In my perfect life, the power and influence I exert in the real world is something that my mistress feels empowered in capturing when I surrender to her. It doesn't threaten her, and it doesn't make her uncomfortable to dominate me.

In my perfect life, when I get back to work, I'm left to use my many skills to keep helping make our world a better place, and making the community we're in a richer environment to live and grow in. Those are my talents and abilities, and because I have so much passion for it, and compassion for those in need, I would like to be given some latitude with this, my second most important priority after serving my mistress.

In my perfect life, my mistress moves through spaces as easily as I do. I will always put her first, but she would understand that the community we live in would suffer if my lifestyle would be uncovered, as my accomplishments would be diminished in a world that doesn't understand the beauty and richness of D/s relationships.

In my perfect life, my servitude would extend to the intellectual plane, where I could bring her as much joy in discussing cultural, scientific, or political events with her as I would submitting to some fire play in the dungeon or cleaning the kitchen.

Of course, in my perfect life, my mistress would find power exchange exciting and the surrender of power to her intoxicating. She would also have a love of leather, exotic toys, exotic furniture, exotic places, challenging predicaments, bondage, and many BDSM activities. Finally, she would be as curious and excited about discovering where my limits are as I would be.

Is this all too much to ask? I know, I know...

A bit more than a fetish party: The Room

The fetish party was something J held at this club pretty much on a monthly basis. The dance floor, with three open sub-sections, was on the first floor along with the bar, restrooms, and two sets of stairs. The first set of stairs was right off the entrance, and led to the cloak room. The second set of stairs was near the back, right off the dance floor. The second floor was not much more than an extended walkway from where one could enjoy viewing the activities happening below. It had a much smaller bar, along with some seats and sofas, and to the back, a small room (perhaps 1000 sq. ft.) that had its own bouncer.If nothing else, the view from up there was absolutely spectacular.

J's fetish parties were probably the hottest in town for the kink-curious mainstream, and a nice crossover opportunity for those more confirmed kinksters that needed an occasional change of scenery. Mainly a 20-30s crowd, but with a few folks in their 40-50s, the main dance floors were a congestion of stunning bodies, short skirts, high heels, bare pecs, so-so leather styling, more PVC than latex, and a few crops or small floggers half-heartedly used in gestures that were more funny than kinky, more naughty than erotic, and more spur-of-the-moment than mood-inducing. The booming techno, dance, and electronica was loud enough to be as tangible to the senses as was the smoke in the air and a slight pungent smell of the humidity that hit whenever somebody dancing was within arm's reach.

A few individuals stood out in the crowd. Of course, there were many gorgeous babes and guys, but a few others were clearly not there primarily to dance or flirt. Some lurkers among them, but a number of the folks that didn't look like they fit in with the dance crowd were there for the small upstairs side-room.

L had been to many parties before, but none where she or her date for the evening had come carrying a bag with BDSM toys. It wasn't a large bag, but it held the essential for an evening away from home. A collection of leather cuffs, ropes, lots of locks and clips, a crop, a paddle, two floggers, and some nipple clamps, among other goodies. A perfect little First Play kit... stuff you need in case of an emergency...

Over the course of the next 20-30 minutes, we enjoyed the dancing and a drink from the main floor, all the while chatting with new people, introducing her to acquaintances, or catching up with older friends. After getting a second drink for each of us, we went upstairs for a little exploration, checking the dance floor from above as we made our way around the walkway. And then we came to "The Room".

The view to The Room was obstructed by two things: a thin curtain and a bouncer. Not just any kind of bouncer, mind you. This bouncer was were over 6' tall without counting the 4-5" heels on his platform shoes. He was wearing an absolutely spectacular latex dress, his make-up and hair were very well done, if not meant to fool anyone, and his boobs, while quite ample and well done, could not quite hide the muscularity of the individual underneath the dress. He turned away many people. most of them curious about what went on in the room, and despite the persona, nobody dared to debate the issue with him.

After a pleasant and short chat, he/she waved us on, and I felt L's whole body shudder when we took our first step past the curtain. The Room had maybe two dozen people in there, most of them standing, watching some of the activities going on. Those activities were happening on a few of the roughly 8-10 BDSM furniture pieces that were in the room, including chairs and seats, kneeling and spanking benches, a St-Andrew's Cross, overhead and side racks, a bondage table, and more. The Room was fairly well-lit in a warm yellow glow from the candle-flame shaped light bulbs that adorned the walls.

A few moans and yelps could be heard as we walked through; L was intensely observing some of the play going on, and I was examining the furniture, looking to see what would inspire me. As we made our way around The Room, I felt L walking ever-closer to me, squeezing my hand a bit more tightly with each step. I was feeling from her this wonderful vibe of discovery and fear, excitement and nervousness, anticipation and resistance. At the same time, we were being watched. She had already made jaws drop downstairs in her black high heel boots (about 4.5" with a 1" platform), tight black shiny pants showing off her now even longer legs and a beautiful ass, and a superb red lace-up corset that highlighted splendidly more of her stunning features. And she wore a beautifully simple leather collar to top it all off.

The moment was perfect... As she had her complete attention on a flogging scene happening on a kneeling bench a bit to our right, I startled her a bit when I whispered in her ear to wait for me. I would be back in just a minute or two. She drew closer to me, her grip on my arm and my ribs firmer, as she looked at me with pleading eyes not to leave her alone. I gave her a hug, lifted her chin, and gently told her I would be right back for her. I just needed her to give me a few minutes, and with a smile, I added, "...and keep out of trouble".As I broke away, I headed to the cloak room. I hadn't planned on carrying the bag any longer than necessary, but it was time. I checked it out, and I went back to The Room with it. When I arrived, she was engrossed in one of the spanking scenes, and I quietly came up to her side. She quickly squeezed in nice and close as soon as I was there, and we enjoyed the next round of spanking that was dished out on one of the participants before us.Maybe two minutes later, I asked her if she was ready. No explanations were necessary. She was nervous but I knew that she was dying to do this. She turned towards me, and moved her eyes down, looking to the ground, and she clasped her hands behind her back. I led her over to the St-Andrew's Cross, which had become open just minutes before.

I told her to remove her shiny black pants, which she did quickly, facing the wall next to the St-Andrew's Cross. I think she kept from facing the crowd because she was made nervous seeing people looking at her. I asked her to move on to the cross, facing it and the wall behind it. I took her hands and gently placed them on the upper part of the cross. I encountered no resistance. Then I pulled out a couple of leather handcuffs, which I looped around her wrist, locked with small padlocks, and clipped to the large O-ring at the top of the cross. Next was the blindfold, as much to help her get away from the crowd as to get her to focus on what she was experiencing. I moved down to her ankles, where I tapped on the inside for her to move her legs into alignment with the cross. Reaching into my bag, I retrieved out two large ankle cuffs, attached those to her ankles over her boots, and clipped them to the O-rings at the bottom of the cross. She was ready, and evidently, so was the small group of people that had started to gather behind me, some looking on with slight smiles on their faces, anticipating something that they would enjoy watching, without being quite sure what or how, and others looking in with an intense, almost nervous expression of wondering what was next.

This public setting was a new experience for her, and knowing there was some tension and emotions not normally present in our play time, I wanted to start a slow, take my time, and be present in her mind the whole time. Reaching in for a soft flogger, I immediately placed it inside the back waistband of my pants. I came right up close to her, covering her bound hands with my own, bringing my hips right up to her backside. There was a slight shudder, and then a release of tension as she opened her hands and reached back with them, gently trying to trap my fingers between her own. L also pushed back and moved up against me, enjoying the cool feel of the leather pants against her backside, covered only partly by lacy red thong panties that matched her corset.

I drew my hands down her arms, over her shoulders, down the sides of her corset, to the front of her hips, just lightly touching the skin, or corset, the whole time. My hands stopped right at that wonderful groove just inside the hip bone, one of the sexiest curves on a woman's body. I brought my hands back up, and down again, several times, slowly, each time taking a different route, making different caressing stops behind her neck, inside her forearms and elbows, on the edge of her upper back, around her breasts and nipples, and around the cheeks of her backside. Then I moved on to the legs for a few moments, again never running my hands twice along the same path, and again, putting a little more emphasis along favorite spots, like behind the knees and the back of the legs (hamstrings region).

Barely breaking contact, I broke into a gentle open-hand slap on the right side of her backside. Still enjoying the gentle skin stimulation that I had started with, she barely reacted when the type of stimulation changed. The next slap was on the left cheek, and then I alternated sides, very gently increasing the intensity over the next 20 or so slaps. With both hands I rubbed her backside gently, starting to feel a nice growing glow of warmth.

I reached behind my back for my soft flogger, and at once gently started to work her backside again. I was a bit more unpredictable in my pattern as I could feel her moving a bit to anticipate my next blow. She was moving towards me to intercept the blow, and I knew that meant I could increase the pace and the intensity. Over the next few minutes, I focused mainly on her backside, which was becoming nicely pink over a fairly large surface, but I also moved on to the back of the legs, and the inside and outside if the thighs, as well as moving up to the back of the shoulders with some gentle strokes.

I went back to some slow, open-hand spanking as I traded my flogger for a flexible leather paddle. Without missing a beat, I came in with a sharper sound as the paddle could impact an area easily twice the size of my hand. I paddled her for the next few minutes, changing the pacing, changing the rhythm, but slowly increasing the intensity impact, sound, and of the color of her cheeks, now well into a nice, deep red.

I came back up against her, and I could feel a sudden exhalation of her breath when my leather pants touched her skin of her backside, cooling, and perhaps soothing the skin. During this brief intermission, I could feel the warmth that came from all over her body, and noticed a few drops of sweat, one of which had just started its way down the side of her neck. I reached over to gently lick it, enjoying the saltiness, but also taking in the spicy fragrance of her skin. I reached around to tease the area around the nipples, and then the hard tips of her nipples, which I could feel through the corset. While I usually keep my fingernails quite short, with what I had available, I scratched tenderly the inside of her biceps in one long stroke, getting as a reaction her biting gently down on her lower lip.

I went back to my floggers, and grabbed once of my favorites, a small flogger with short latex lashes. Despite its length, there's a bit of heft to it, and the strokes feel like hundreds of little pinpricks. From broad, flat-strokes, in the first part, I moved to sharper, more localized sensations, and L moved as she didn't seem to know if she preferred to reach toward me some more or just lay back and enjoy the ride. The short length of the latex flogger allowed me great control, and I worked her backside, legs (back, inside, outside), shoulders and upper-arms.

After a few quick caresses, I moved back to the flexible leather paddle for 2 dozen strokes on her backside, and then came back with the latex flogger for a few minutes. I could tell that the contrast was just driving her to the edge. I finished up with the soft-flogger, but this time with some heavier strokes to the backside. The lashes are nice and soft, but they carry quite a bit a weight when swung with enthusiasm. I had increased the intensity pretty gradually throughout the whole time, with a few quick pauses, and I realized that part way through the last segment, L's moans and movements had become louder and wider, but slowed and somehow became uncoordinated with what I was doing. I realized at that time that she was in her own zone, and that any stroke rhythm I would take would not matter much anymore.

I kept at the soft-flogger for another 60 seconds or so, diminishing the intensity, and then came up next to her. She pressed back against me as much as she could, still bound to the cross. Reaching for our dark-grey fleece blanket, I noticed that almost all the people in the Room had come over to our station to watch us. Nobody else was playing on other furniture. Somewhat suddenly, I noticed a growing din as they started talking among themselves as our scene seemed to end, while still keeping an eye on us. I brought up one finger to my mouth, in a signal to give me just a few more moments of quiet. Not wanting the awareness of the crowd to bring too sudden an end to our scene, I left the blindfold on L, unclipped her hands and her legs from the cross, and wrapped her in the blanket. With one hand around her waist in support, we walked through the small group as they move to the side to get out of our way. The looks on their faces was priceless... and everyone was either smiling or nodding.

Just outside The Room, we found a sofa with space for the two of us. As we sat down, the third person, who was already there, was nice enough to move on, leaving us a bit more space. A waitress came by within a few seconds of us sitting, and I got some water for both of us. L was completely relaxed laying back in the sofa in my arms. As she turned her head to lay it onto my shoulder, I gently removed the blindfold. She kept her eyes closed, and snuggled up, still in a daze.
The water came, and we each had several big gulps. I kept her warm, I told her how well she had done, and slowly, over the next 15-20 minutes, she came back down to the actual moment and place... mostly. After finishing our water, she put back her pants, and I led her through the throng of bodies bouncing to the beat, to the front of the club, and up to the cloak room to get our jackets. As we checked them out, and headed downstairs, a middle-age couple stopped up just as we were about to step out. They told us the scene we had done upstairs had been one of the sexiest and most sensual scenes they had ever witnessed. We both smiled, and I said thank you, that we were just having fun.

On the way to the car, L asked me if they had been watching. I said that I guessed so. She asked, somewhat embarrassed if anyone else had been watching. I replied that a few people had come to watch. "They come and go... you know how it is... station hoping". And then I was glad I had left the blindfold on...

The sensual side of D/s

I'll be the first one to admit, I've always had a taste for the dramatic: well-equipped dungeons, dark and shiny furniture, low-level lighting, lots of implements...

But I had a reminder recently of just how wonderfully inspiring simple gestures and actions can be.

Quite suddenly, she turned to me, stood up and reached over to pin my hands behind my back. I had barely walked into her office to see how she was doing when she just came upon me. She told me to keep my hands where she had placed them, and reached for my nipples, grasping them firmly through my shirt and undershirt, and leading me away from the office.

The objective had been set. I was going to serve her in showering her. As we stepped into the bedroom, she ordered me to strip naked, as she was getting undressed herself. My gaze upon her splendid body went thankfully unnoticed as she finished removing her own clothing. She came back into the bedroom, took hold of my nipples again, and this time led me next to the shower, where she entered first, and told me to come in right after her.

I knew her routine, but for her trouble, I did want to make this special, and I gave her all the attention and care I could. Washing her hair gently, I reached down to rub and massage her scalp every few passes. Despite the look of enjoyment she had from it, and the relaxed pose her body took, somehow I felt guilty that I was still getting the better of the exchange. As I was sure all of her hair was clean, I moved on to one complete massaging pass over her scalp, gentle enough to be enjoyable, firm enough to ease/relax mental and muscle tension.

Moving on to her face, we used her favorite face-soap, and I gently foamed it up as I delicately covered every surface and angle. For the second pass, I applied just a bit of pressure, relaxing the facial tissues under the skin as I cleaned the surface. I made sure that rinsing was thorough as my fingers once more went over all of her face, just barely touching, the lightest of caresses.

As we moved to the rest of her body, it came upon me that we forget how precious body parts like the grooves inside of the ear, the crevices behind the knee, or the spaces between the toes are when we don't visit often enough.

Truly a woman's body is something to be worshipped. There were so many beautiful and glistening limbs, parts, and surfaces to be washed, and every one of them turned me on to no end under the shiny reflection of the falling water. Each one of them required a different technique to clean and to massage. Long, sweeping strokes for her strong and lean legs. Small, expanding circular movements around her breasts and shoulders. Short, detailed movements inside and outside of her hands and between her fingers. Short, alternating straight and circular movements around her backside. Delicate and reaching around her private regions. There was a tinge of sadness as I left one part and I knew I would not come back to it until the rinse.

The time to rinse off whatever soap was left brought her some very long caresses over most of her body, and some gentle splashing from however much water I could gather in my cupped hands.

Finally, after the water had been turned off, I reached for her bath towel, I dried her off, patting her dry in delicate or small areas, drying her off with broad strokes over large body parts, and massaging dry her hair. She walked away from the shower in the most regal and confident manner, thanked me coldly for my attentive service, stepped in front of the mirror, took hold of her hair drier and brush, and told me I had to be done with my shower and dressed by the time she was done. I thought 15-20 minutes... plenty of time. As she got to work on her hair and make-up, I took in discretely one more glance of the beautiful and erotic sight she was presenting to me, and as I turned to my own shower, I was proud of my work as she looked relaxed, rejuvenated, and quite satisfied, if a bit smug, about the results of her actions.

And I knew that she would be deciding where we'd be having diner too...

Aaah... What spectacular and magical creatures these women are...

PS: lights turned low and candles are optional, but even better.

Wish we had stuff like this when we were growing up...

An outstanding clip made for... teen sex ed?

http://midwestteensexshow.com/2008/08/04/mtss-18-fetishes/

While they miss the mark slightly with some definitions, the producers more than make up for that in humor and providing a generally warm feeling to something most folks see as very scary.

Enjoy.