Thank you!

Thank you for the time you've spent with me on this journey. Shy Willow has not had her own domain address... and is now pleased to be moving to one!!!

My new address is www.SensualWays.com   I will not be redirected this blog as I have decided to merge my two blogs together into one beautifully eclectic home on the net. 

I hope you will wander over and see what the new site has to offer.... it is under construction as we speak.. but up and running, thank you for all of the love and support as I spread my wings here and learned how to better express my own style.

I will be maintaining the Shy Willow twitter account and will be updating the social media so more of that goodness soon! As always feel free to contact me with requests and the like.

- Shy Willow

Style, Sensualism, and Passion

"Writing styles are not easy to come by, they are forged by fire, they are cooled by the tears of ones own eyes, and they are oiled by the authors own blood; sheathing that style is an entirely new level of pain."

Shy Willow

Over the past couple of years, and through the process of finishing my degree I have had the opportunity to learn the value of what my own writing style means to me. I learned the pain of hiding my own passion. I learned the disappointment of learning that people do not understand my style of writing, I felt the pain of rejection, and I also finally reached the point that I could smile say...that is OK!

You don't have to like, appreciate, nor approve of how I write, what I write about, nor if I in my passionate outpouring my grammar and spelling are not to par with my education. You are welcome to be judgmental. You are welcome to squirm in the layers of your own insecurities, I am still climbing the ladder of my own.

While you do so... please note that you are the reason I write in the first place! You are the reason I pour my heart, my pain, my feelings, my passion, and yes even my sensualism out in the words that are now littering the blog you read. I want you to see that there is a different way to see and feel things. I want you to see that you can hold on to your values, your faith, your beliefs, and still love and appreciate the differences and passions of those around you.

You can judge me. You can disprove. Some of you will likely be disappointed in what you do not understand... but I still love you. I will still write. I will still hope that my style will reach someone and fill their heart with laughter and hope, and passion, and desire to feel the world around them; not feel just sex but feel the very elements that as children they used to adore.

I have written on two different blogs over the past couple of years. I have guest written for several more for many different genres. I realize that getting used to some of my writings being mixed together for some will be a shocker. But truth be told I have always said I am very eclectic... and if you are open to yourself you will realize that you are not just a mom, not just a dad, not just a student... you are so much more than one label that you try to explain yourself to society as being.

I No Longer wish to write on two blogs and hide in two boxes. I love the romance of the name and concept I created on my creative writing blog, I love the concept that I created on my original blog, I hope that in the end my readers will come with me on my new journey as I mesh them together into one home on the internet.

With that being said I want to thank my returning readers who stuck with me for weeks and weeks, through surgeries, colds, pneumonia, depression, and my continued education. I hope you enjoy the new journey... and a stronger more confident writer... whom you contributed to.

WELCOME TO Sensual Ways...

-Shy Willow

Total Validation

I enjoy my time bopping around twitter, mainly because it makes me laugh! Who doesn't enjoy the sarcasm.

While bouncing around the 15 screens I have open I noticed a tweet that had a word that caught my attention. Beings I am a lover of words I followed the link, read the article, and viola, am now writing my own article.

I'd like to write a special thank you to the Women'sHealth writer Moira Lawler that utilized the concept of helping women reach orgasm through sensual relaxation.  If you are interested in reading the article for yourself I encourage you to do so it is located here.

While Lawler's article had a specific focus, I was tickled to see that her overall approach was not singular in focus. 

Sex is art that people create together. However you choose to look at it. Whether it is a gift, a dance, or the passion and energy of life it is a creation. It can be stitches that you create over and over the same each time that varies little  which in itself may be the rhythm which brings you comfort. Or it may be a beautiful colorful canvas which abstract lines and curves bring you both joy and freedom. 

While it is a bit of a stretch I wanted to share the work of another, and share my appreciation for the concepts of the article. Too often people hide themselves in the boxes of their youth, or adult lives and forget to let go and reconnect with their own sensualism. 

- Shy Willow

Awareness

Holding your trembling body in an embrace I know very well the tremors rifling painfully through you will not be sated by anything anyone can offer. No comfort can touch the deep shuttering that was quaking you to the very core, filling you with fear, punishing you with assumptions you’d made for years past.

I listened to you try to keep yourself composed and polite as you answered some of the most hurtful questions from people who clearly had never felt pain similar. People who wanted answers and didn’t realize that asking these questions was like shoving a hot fire poker into your gut and twisting it furiously.

I worked with a member of your family to push you through a place that none of us wanted to go, none of us wanted to be, but we had to…  I had to be one of those hot fire pokers in an effort to help. You fell apart in my arms and told me it was alright that you understood, but I knew that your trying to comfort me was just as painful as anything.

We played something like 20 questions that lasted over 12 hours. We learned that we know each other better than any of the internet “get to know-your-friend, neighbor, spouse, boyfriend, girlfriend, roommate” questionnaires out there.

At night we waited. Held our breath. Asked more questions. Cried. I watched you curse the night hoping it would pass quickly but dreading each second that passed without word.

Getting to know each other over the past several months we’ve found so much irony in our lives. Much of that irony has been humorous, small tid bits of joy that get us through the storms that we try to aid our friends and family through.

There is irony is this story too. You’ve hurt for so many years with this dark cloud of suicide which has followed you. You’ve assumed it was your fault. You try to take the pain away from those that are suffering. When a person is willing to get in the trenches to fight for a person’s well-being, they certainly get dirty. You are not being punished for being in the trenches.

With September bringing in Suicide Awareness Month professionals hope to bring awareness to a growing suffering in society.

Please my friends and family in that awareness don’t forget the friends and family members who suffer along with the individuals. Don’t discredit the years, or months of pain that rip tides the social circle who love and support suffering individuals.

We were lucky that your family member came home. We’ve learned the love that can be shared and given during such a time.  Pain like this shouldn’t be framed by assumptions and judgements. 

-Shy Willow

Introversion is not a lack of Confidence

In a brief moment standing in a gentle embrace, one glance... one inward look. 

For the remainder of the day I spent the time wondering how in that moment I could see so much. As children we become acclimated to the concept of having ones life flash before them. Reading about those moments it is often mind boggling how different, yet how very similar those experiences can be from person to person. 

Those moments litter the planet in situations that oftentimes shake our philanthropic selves to the very core. There are those beautiful glimpses in time when that very flash changes forever the course of an individuals life, and inevitably the life of those surrounding the individual. 

While waltzing an elegant dance which involves sound and rhythm, but in the end no shuffling of feet, there was that one glance which led to that one inward look in which I saw my own eye. 

The lifetime I lived in that millisecond reminded me of a giant portion of my life that I had successfully hushed. So much of my energy went into fighting, protecting, and defending. 

In one brief second, one dance, one inward look that mind you, I did not purposely provoke, I was taught a lesson that was too long in the works. 

Introversion is not lack of confidence. 

Too long I have poured myself into an energy that was not my own. Owning my energy was an enormous step, but seeing myself for what I am was a shock to my senses. 

Why on earth I felt the need to put that on this blog, is simple. Over the course of the past couple of years as I have found the things that I've needed to start to pull myself back to whole again, the major energy has been understanding passion. 

Sensualism in definition most commonly is assumed to refer to sex, however entails so much more about how we relate to the world around us, how we feel it, essentially how we experience it. 

So in that regard Yes- I write about sex.    I also write about life, and how life is felt, how it tastes, how energy pulses between people, how life feeds and wanes, and how our grandparents experienced sex.  

While I have a fun idea as to what may have caused my moment to occur... What matters is what I do with it. What do I do with the sensation, the beauty, the freedom? I can certainly run from it, or lock it up and continue on as I have in months past, or I can get caught up in asking why instead of focusing on the sunrise, perhaps I can shake off the confidence and go back to hiding in my introverted box afraid that having passion and an opinion may just hurt another person. 

I think I'll stay outside of the box.

Shy Willow

Awake

Awake

You cannot feel, you cannot see

How did I forget to blame me?

How did I not see that this is just

Just the way you are

I accept them all each one

Every energy that came my way

All this time I said I hurt 

but it was I that did not see nor feel

The rage you gave me flooded my veins

brought life to places long now asleep

Slowly the tingle of limbs starved of blood

throb as life returns to them 

Slowly the flood of oxygen wakes the grog

of a mind slowed by years of repression

I could not feel, I could not see

I'll never again forget to blame me.

by: Shy Willow

Flames

Sitting next to the fire, watching the flames dance I did not have the energy to run and be free. I sat... at times frozen, my eyes to the colors and dance within the fire ring before us. The sweet youthful spirits running free soaking in the air their lungs had craved. 

My body was capable, but somehow for some reason I needed to sit, to get lost in the heat. I watched the white hot coals remain constant as the blue and somewhat rare green flames sprang from the log that was being consumed. Higher up orange and red flames reached into the air more consistently and predictably dancing. 

So often in art those cooler in temperature flames are depicted, seen destroying forests or decorating a noisy motorcycle. Rarely does an artist draw the hotter and less predictable blue flames into their art. 

Perhaps I had it wrong, maybe the blue and orange flames working together is what enabled enough heat to create the white coals in the first place. 

Perhaps that balance we carry though at times feels a bit wild, is exactly what is needed to feed the coals which sustain the heat needed to continue to consume. 

We sat, we talked through it all, yet at times like these when our flames burn low and quiet, and the ash seems to fly carelessly through the air, it is that white hot coal that is waiting. 

Things cool. Aches and pains come. Trials and challenges fill our lives with storms. 

The white hot coals snap and crack with that beautiful sound of shattering glass, biding time, waiting until something comes along to feed it once again.

A stir, and new kindling, and the next moment, our flames roar to new heights as if they had never slumbered in the first place. 

- Shy Willow

Another Fishing Metaphor

You feel the line being lightly toyed with, obviously this fish has been drawn from the water before and is familiar with the feel of a steel hook. The bait begins to travel a small distance and you let out line to accommodate the prey you are after. You watch as the line pulls and stalls, darts again then rests, and you reflect on how this, your fishing has changed over the years. In times past you were a professional circuit fish thrashing champion, and now here you are rescuing this finicky fish from a mud pool where it and several others has no chance of survival. Days of netting and fishing have meant relocating fish back to the larger body of water that these fish belonged to prior to the accident which severed this smaller pool of water.

Suddenly your prey feels a surge of confidence and decides to bolt away having hopefully taken the bait firmer. A slight pull and you set the hook, knowing too much of a pull could rip the hook clear of the experienced mouth of the fish, yet not setting the hook is a risks your fish could decide to spit it out finding it too risky to keep hold of. 

Waiting for a fight to erupt from the line, disappoint sinks in when the line goes limp of life. Exhaling the frustration and concern all at once you begin to bring in line. A tightness takes you by surprise and you wonder if in the muddy gumbo you've picked up a log or rock, but after a bit of pressure and the drag starting to click against you it becomes clear that this fish is not like others you've seen or fought. 

Again you are faced with decisions. Do you bring this fish in fast and hard? Do you bring it in slow and gentle? Which one will tire the fish? Which way will reduce the stress and get it to the larger body of water safest? 

Each fishing trip yields something a bit different. Each relationship we enter does the same, going into it with preconceived notions can leave you disappointed or ill prepared for situations that arise. 

Often times titles skew the real meaning of our relationships and focusing on definition rather than value takes away from the enrichment and life giving experience a challenge may provide.

Obviously one must be in control and responsible when they see that they have the upper hand in a situation that requires they guide and direct another. However equally we must accept in life that these situations arise. 

-Shy Willow

Dark Room

Welcome to the darkest room of my castle; the room that until now no one else knew about. I quake knowing that now you will know the dark bloom of energy that swirls in clouds of blackness upon the dark canvas in which you gaze. I ache in bitter frustration as my being is sucked into the darkness which balances the passion that freely lights my day.

Welcome to the place inside of this suffocating darkness which cools the blood and slows the heart. Breath is drawn slowly and thoughts focus purposefully on the singular painful necessity. My mind swirls in the ache and bitterness of pain I've caused; bathing in the self punishment of disappointment and mourning. 

Colder and deeper I go, why are you here with me. No one must see this pain. On the verge of plunging into a pool of black and boiling tar, on the verge of letting go, there is a pull.

So many times before I've felt around this dark room with the tips of my fingers, searching for the freedom of the door. Why are you here, you will get hurt. 

Yet, before I know it, it would seem we are both in a the cold corridor outside of the dark room's heavy door. Slowly I warm and feel my body desire breath again. I've not been in that room for some time, nor do I wish to go in again. Perhaps you were there because you needed to see the peace you bring.

-Shy Willow

Part 4... Her Name

For those who are new, this post is a 4th part in a series called Her Name you can scroll down or check through the archives to locate the previous segments if you wish to read them first to get a better feel for the character of the brief plot.

For those returning, thanks for stopping by, I hope you enjoy your sensual break in my little corner of the web.

I hope you enjoy this installment of Her Name.

*********************************************************************************

After my own heat was nearly unbearable He sat back leaving nothing between us but tension and a dark expression. After a deep  and well controlled breath his attention was back toward Lacy as they picked up conversation about an event that was coming up in the near future that both seemed to have made plans to attend. 

Roger's face had the same dark expression that He had just washed away. Looking down at Doll you could see a beautiful charge build between the two of them. Doll's body was as still as it had been the entire night as their eyes were completely locked in a silent conversation. A single expression crossed Rogers dark and concentrating eyes and with that it would have seemed that his spell was absolutely broken except for Dolls immediate response. Within moments Doll was once again her happy playful self cooing under Rogers protective gaze, but now she was doing so setting herself to work releasing him from his pants. 

Looking away feeling the need to give them their own privacy I realized I was being introduced into an entirely different level of comfort and social trust for Him. Although the heat has not at all left my body now I have a bit more processing to do and it is admittingly a challenge given the state He put me in. 

Lacy and Hund were little different in their display. Lacy held Hund's leash quite tight in one hand as she prodded him with her heels and got in a lash here and there with the strap he carefully placed for her. Interestingly the expression on his face was much more at ease now then it was when I tried to introduce myself to him. The level of trust in the room escalates more and more as I see it and while the scenery itself is still rather new to me in some ways, the beauty is not lost. 

Hund is kept on his knees for the entire gathering. Though he is allowed to kiss Lacy's feet for sometime he remains on his knees. 

Doll is loved and petted and remains on Rogers leg until long sometime after she has pleased Roger. Doll's work was much less silent than Hund, though it would seem purposely so for Roger's pleasure as he seemed to build upon her audio serenade. 

He engages in conversation between both back and forth for awhile longer all the while kneading my skin and rubbing this thumb hard into different muscles in my thigh and back. The sensation gives a pleasant mixture of release and also a slight burn. I sit still and silent soaking in every touch and barely audible guttural rumble that vibrates in his throat. Each sensation building the most delicious tension between us.

Until in turn both couples take leave and thank Him for the invitation. Hund quickly changes and packs up, but this time Lacy waits for him. After walking both couples to the door He sits next to me again and searches my face. 

"That was an experiment wasn't it". His voice is deep and rumbles tickling the same places that are already throbbing from his assault. 

"I gather that was a warm up and trial run?" my words come more coolly than the fire that is raging within.

A small chuckle escapes His throat, "you don't miss much".

"I never really did like exams." I feign dissatisfaction.

"That is a shame, I suspect you're really going to dislike this next section then."

Within a moment I was pinned to the couch with His very warm body holding me securely. Part of me knew that even if I wanted to struggle it would be a wasted effort. However, I was mush in His hands, I didn't want to struggle.  

The next move still truly baffles, but in a stunning display He rolled us off the couch and in the time that it took to completely roll and land He had most of my dress displaced, a new position, and my body pinned once again, but now to the floor. 

"I believe you and I have some unfinished business to discuss." 

"Hmmm, does that mean I get out of the exam?"

"Hardly."

"Interesting." I huff. The weight of His body pressing me into the unrelenting floor is a sensation beyond glorious. It is a challenge to have much for emotional expression when the charge is so very strong.

A surge washed us both in a beautiful dance of pushing and pulling. Not a single word crossed our lips, no giggle, nothing but those sounds that are made to communicate that only the physical body need hear and understand. Those sparks that He massaged into my muscles were enough to feed into our first raging fire, a fire that raged until the early morning hours.

Spent and finally cooling He broke our silence, "come sweet Sapphire we need sleep". 

Tucking us into a soft cocoon and cradled in His arms I felt His breathing ease. "Good night Tim." 

He sighed lazily, "Good night sweet Becky." 

- Shy Willow

Letting Go

Letting Go

by: Shy Willow

Into my eyes and see the pain yet neither flinch nor recoil. 

Stories bathed in irony which dance in both rays of warmth and also the frosty bite of reality. 

Too many times the door left open gets closed behind suffocating and trapping. 

How often the energy turns from fire that feeds to one which takes life away.

Into the fire, the flames which grow and consume.

Lives bathed in irony which dance in the energy we've learned to trust and lean on.

No longer do we thrive in the boxes which we build to hide, no longer must we have doors.

An ache all to familiar we felt, an ache we tried to fill, is now free to burn.

Into my life and see the beauty which I see in every life.

Expressions of art bathed in the energy of passion, released from the purest of places.

Enticed, pursued, romanced then captured and wed with the breath of freedom.  

Into our eyes the energy, better understood, despite the pain, brings comfort and ease.

Chaotic Peace

pexels.com

A moments rest in the eye of the tornado, the storm we relish. We’ve sent our heart out, something not uncommon. Though we rarely give our self fully to another we give our heart with the hope that it will heal. On occasion it comes back, radiating. All too often the hurt we try to save is so deep that the love we share is lost, turned black, and used as fuel to feed an ugly monster.

We sit, taking a deep breath, filling our lungs for the first time in months. The pain is there though shifted to a new place. There is a new joy there giving us pause, is this our new reality?

Our webs are wide and complex while the inner strand is so well guarded and simple we are truly misunderstood.

We guard our pain as carefully as we guard our peace and love.

That breath we take in the mountains, when the buzzing is gone, that breath we take that washes away the pain, the breath that reaches every cell and screams freedom amongst our sweet chaos. 

-Shy Willow

Sex is Art

Artistic expression has found its way into every corner of the social experience. People have found food, literature, painting, street art, sculpting, music, body art, and aquamarine exhibits, social expressions of art in which to be enjoyed, shared, and explored. Although not everyone appreciates each type of art, and not each type of art seems to move every individual, the theme remains the same; people enjoy sharing the growth, wonder and experience together.

Some may choose to embrace sex itself as an art. Others may of course embrace sex in any number of ways, and beings as it is a language all its own, there really is not a set “right” way. However, I would like to suggest that we open our minds to the language of sex as an art. A social language that all experience differently, some embrace passionately, some immerse themselves in as a means of relating to the world, while others utilize the language as a way of release and perhaps momentary freedom. We will not always appreciate nor understand why or how those around us grasp the language and make it their own, but we do know that in a small way it is something we share.

I have had the chance to meet individuals who cannot allow themselves to feel passion in sex. The physical is just that. On the other end of the spectrum I’ve been privileged to meet those who’ve seen the experience as an artistic expression of energy which allows them something of a spiritual connection.

Differing lifestyles have differing views of the topic, but it seems no matter which side of the fence you call home you find individuals who have closed their minds to embracing the larger picture. Religion, no religion, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, or whatever it is you fancy labeling yourself, try remember that the labels in art are only a way of helping us find the kind of art we enjoy the most. The labels are not there to tell you which piece of art you will like, won’t like, should emulate, should not emulate, or should try to build your grilled cheese sandwich to represent.

Sex is art. To you it may be that sex is soccer, quilting, naptime, coffee, or gardening; no matter how you see it, or better yet, ultimately feel it, what matters is that we remember to appreciate spices, varieties, and many colors.

-Shy Willow

(Shy Willow is not suggesting unsafe sex practices. As always safe sex practices and the consultation of your physician to ensure you are healthy enough for sexual activity. Shy Willow writes for a mature audience.)

Disturbed The Sound of Silence Sensual Sounds

Good evening!  I have been enjoying Disturbed's version of The Sound of Silence. The original moved me, but this version moves me from head to toe. I love the passion that you can feel in his voice and on his voice, though one can argue video acting a must these days, a look into the eyes of the singer gives way a powerful passionate atomic bomb. I hope you enjoy the few minutes of sensual sounds in your day.

-Shy Willow

Mirrors

Free, warm, dancing with butterfly's wings

Fog, a cool mist, a dull saunter

A flame, a gnashing pain, a death

Growth, warm shift, acceptance 

Cat eyes that see, a pain that overtakes

Thick black tar, deep numbing, a dark escape

A deep miserable despair 

A fire started, a final reach

I held my breath

A reflection met

I held my breath

A fire started, a  final reach

Thick black tar, deep numbing, a dark escape

Cat eyes that see, a pain that overtakes

Growth, warm shift, acceptance

A flame, a gnashing pain, a death 

Fog, a cool mist, a dull saunter

Free, warm, dancing with butterfly's wings

By: Shy Willow

Her Name... Part 3

For those who are new, this post is a third part in a series called Her Name you can scroll down or check through the archives to locate the previous segments if you wish to read them first.

For those returning, thanks for stopping by, I hope you enjoy your sensual break in my little corner of the web.

*********************************************************************************

Parting our lips I drew a deep breath and felt something new fill my body. It was not the usual lust or ache from a physical encounter, but rather a curious sensation that much like beautiful darkness I could not put my finger on.

Finally coming out of my haze I was expecting a smirk on His knowing lips, but it was something else, perhaps the same strange bewilderment that had overcome me. A brief  pause and He had me help carry out a few things for a refreshment that was made for His guests. 

Settled down again it was not hard to notice that our shift in energy had not gone unnoticed by His guests. Doll was still at Roger's feet, though it appeared he had refilled her glass, but Hund had managed to change clothing and was now seated similarly at the foot of the chair he'd prepared for whomever it was he was waiting for. 

A deep breath had just eased from His perfect lips when another knock at the door interrupted the momentary silence. He rose and strode once again confidently and unshaken to answer the call, Hund fidgeted and then resolved himself to a firm position looking upon the carpet. 

"Hello Lacy" His welcome was warm and inviting, I could easily hear the smile His face met His guest with.

"Hello Handsome!!" a sultry woman's voice poured out like liquid sex.  They embraced and He welcomed her in, following closely behind it wasn't until they were in the sitting room that I was able to see her stunning figure. Her voice did not at all oversell her, and I found myself somehow wanting to melt, or dissolve, disappear even. Working with clients on a daily basis it is rare that an individual makes me feel so intimidated, but something about this guest seemed to to do just that.

"Roger" she nodded, not waiting for His introduction "Doll" she smiled warmly, "good to see you both again so soon!"

"Always good to see you too Lacy" Roger replied as Doll replied with nothing more than her gorgeous smile. 

Taking a step towards me, I felt every inch of my body pricked as her words deepened with something I knew very well to be dark, "and who is this pretty little thing..."

He stepped in front of her cutting off her motion and her sentence without a single word. The tension held for what felt like minutes.

Turning towards me and reaching out His hand, He brought me to my feet at His side. "Lacy, this is Sapphire. Sapphire this is a close friend of mine, Mistress..." She interrupted quickly, "Lacy will do, it is a pleasure to meet you Sapphire, that is a pretty name you have." Her handshake was formal and not unlike what I was very familiar with. Somehow He had diffused whatever tension, and I am not even sure why it was there. "Thank you, Lacy, I am very fond of it. It is a pleasure to meet you also." A grin overcame her face and she excused herself quietly as He pulled me back to His side at the couch. 

Lacy paced a bit around Hund, not at all acknowledging him. 

A low chuckle escaped His lips and He offered His guests refreshments. In the course of the next few minutes Doll daintily gushed over being allowed to serve Roger refreshments, Lacy briefly praised Hund for his good work, just before scolding him for slacking in making sure she had a drink in her hand, and before long Hund was Lacy's footstool, literally. 

The sincerity on Hund's face as he worked and hoped to please Lacy was endearing and beautiful. Not unlike the language of Roger and Doll, it seemed that Hund was attuned to Lacy's body language amazingly well. It seemed that each movement that Lacy made had some meaning which Hund quickly decoded and responded to. There were those moments that Hund did not quite read the movements correctly and Lacy seemed to enjoy jarring Hund with snaps to his pale colored skin with the strap he placed for her, or even with the spike of her heels until he quietly moaned. 

Lacy joined the men's conversation with ease as I again took up the position as silent observationalist. The conversation moved much like every other conversation, topic to topic with relative ease, though rather than work, weather, and politics this took on the form of work, leather, politics, inside jokes, and the twists of humor associated with living in what I would call a duality of life. The movement of the room was exciting to watch. 

His breathing next to me was a constant frustration. Focusing on conversation and learning new personalities, I was at the same time soaking up the time I had with Him, while also trying to understand the rich and dark sensation we had shared earlier in the kitchen. His emotions moved a great deal through the night and prior to that moment, had been easy to read and understand. 

As I was rifling through the images of His emotions, the conversation shifted pulling me from my shared focus. A pause, and what felt like tension, though not negative tension. 

His hand slid tighter around my back and side and rested on my thigh. As He slid his hand to the side of my thigh He squeezed it tightly in His large hand, making the breath catch in my lungs. 

"What do you say, has my baby girl been good?" Roger asked the room as his eyes darkened gazing into Doll.

"Fantastic I'd say" He spoke with a kind smile towards Roger. 

"I suppose she deserves to be rewarded then." Rogers words oozed with a calm darkness that deepened Dolls haze. Her breath changed and her smile softened as she calmed herself soaking in every movement Roger made. I am pretty certain at this point Doll no longer had any notion of people still being around her. 

At that He bent to my ear whispering slowing the heat shot straight into my most deeply guarded of places, "watch the energy spread like wildfire", and with that his teeth found my jawline and neck... torturing the tiny shred of control I clung to. 

- Shy Willow

Sensual Sounds Jo Dee Messina - Bring on the Rain

Some of the sweetest things are found best coupled with salt or sour flavors. Who doesn't love a bit of dark chocolate with some sea salt, or that bitter dark chocolate with some tangy sour fruit flavors to contrast. 

Never fails it seems that my bitter moments always have a hint of irony buried in them somewhere. Most of the time the irony is a light bulb moment where I realize that yes, although this is miserable, there is something absolutely beautiful about it. 

A couple of days ago, while driving home and halfway listening to the radio, halfway lost in thought, a song hit me... it was my light bulb moment. It was that chocolate that made my salt perfect and it was the lemon that made the sugar useful. 

For my music loving, rain dancing, irony chasing, sensual beauties.... "Bring on the Rain".

-Shy Willow

Her Name ... pt 2

... among the chatter another knock came at the door. This knock was more timid, the first couple of raps went unnoticed by the conversing men. Doll and I's reaction to the sound seemed to be the only way the next visitor was going to gain entrance into the rendezvous.

 

"Excuse me." His words paused the conversation. 

 "Good evening Sir." A meek male voice met His at the opening of the door, "I hope my timing is acceptable."

"Yes, right on time, come in." 

"Thank you" the meeker man replied. 

As He entered the space again I was expecting the meeker man to be smaller or quite a deal younger, but really neither seemed to be the case. The timid fellow was about the same size, huskier even, and roughly our same age, wearing a costly suite, and overall looked sharp. 

"Sapphire this is Hund." As I was standing to greet Hund he pulled away nervously and I paused... what had I done wrong. I looked nervously up and He took my hand and smiled and pulled me into the couch with him.

Hund seemed to relax a bit putting down the bag that he carried with him. The bag did not look like the type a businessman would carry, rather it looked like an overnight bag. 

"Sir" he struggled in an innocent way, "where am I to set up for Mistress?" Hund fidgeted as he awaited His response. "Over there is fine Hund, make use of what you need of course" He motioned towards a leather chair kitty-corner from the couch.

"Thank you Sir" Hund nodded and began to focus on his task. 

He and Roger picked up conversation and Doll sat still as ever, with slight movements which seemed a reflection of Roger's every motion. I sat concentrating on the liquid layer of the wine in my glass as I lost myself in thought. He pulled me back quickly as I felt his hot breathe fill my ear and wrap around my neck, "Hund isn't allowed to be touched by anyone without permission from his owner, you startled him, he was not sure how to respond and did not want to be rude" He whispered in my ear. 

I swallowed hard feeling a pain for the frustration I'd caused Hund, my ignorance made him more nervous on top of the tension he'd brought with him. Pursing my lips in my own disappointment His hand slid up the curve of my neck slowly as His fingers twisted gently into my loose hair. 

His whisper continued "you need to relax, you were being polite and did nothing wrong, he always frets for awhile" He applied a bit of tension to my curls and a delicious feeling combated the anxiety inside of me. "Breathe beautiful" His whisper came as He released my hair and pulled me into His strong side. 

Hund was busy arranging things in his bag, had pulled out clothing, and placed a leather strap on the edge of the arm of the chair. Glancing towards Doll I noticed that she was still lost in Rogers every movement, and soaked in the looks he would occasionally reward her with. Those moments when he would look down upon her are when Doll's face would light up and glow and emotions would spring from her in the most uncontrollable way, now I understood. It was beautiful really, to see their unspoken language, how strong it was, how Roger could say so much to Doll just by a subtle change in the glances he gave her. 

"I have a tray to bring out, care to help me?" His words were laced with something dark...

"Of course" I smiled, following Him to the kitchen. 

Once we were near the fridge I felt a familiar pull as He twist me around and pinned me against the cool doors of the appliance. Growling in my ear I felt His free hand sliding into my hair "your response was too much, I had to have it again" His growl vibrated against the skin just below my earlobe. Pulling my hair steadily back that alert skin on my neck was met with His teeth, and this time time I didn't laugh and squirm, I sighed out a breath that fueled His eagerness. Kissing me deeply I felt something much different in His lips, something I couldn't quite put words to, something dark, but beautiful.

- Shy Willow

Poetry and Food; Who'd Have Thought Such a Thing

The Honey People

Sometimes the people in our lives are there like sticky honey

Sometimes we revel in the sweetness and sometimes we curse the stick

But there is something about that amber color that always amazes us

~A Poem my heart wrote to a friend in need

~Shy Willow

Daggers

Daggers of a moment that dart without pensive's chance
Pain that slices deep the mended ties and bonds
A death, emotional pain too expansive to reap tears
Balance made, a price sorely paid 
Daggers of a moment that dart from balance paid
Pain that was felt from heart throbs eons away
A death, emotion pain expansive the tears were reaped 
A price sorely made, balance paid 

~Shy Willow

A Moment

There was a moment there when the world was gone....

A moment, when, I am quite sure my body no longer needed to breathe. 

I heard nothing.

Not a single fragrance was allowed to rouse my senses.

Not even touch registered in the tide that washed over my body while I was yet frozen, unable to move, unable to flinch... could I blink? 

This sensation was like nothing that a person experiences on a daily or yearly basis. Perhaps something like adrenaline. Pure energy, so strong, so overwhelming, like a magnet, yet somehow dangerous... somehow like that vacuum of oxygen before a large flame of fire. 

A single amazing moment.

~Shy Willow