Dearest Miss Angela:

I saw you online today in the early afternoon hours and by the time I grabbed my credit card and other necessary accoutrements, you were busy and then after an hour or some, away.

I kept checking the whole afternoon and into the later hours to no avail.  Craving a connection with you (however fleeting — I was desperate for you, beloved Mistress) I started reading your entries and stories and clicking on the links on your pages, and I ended up in  Secrets in Lace

How did I — pervert, pornography lover, pleasure addict — not know of this site?  I couldn’t help myself, and began to masturbate so furiously and insanely that I came all over my pants and onto the floor.  Even this did not sate my desire for you, but still you were not availabe.  And so I ripped off my pants.  And even being  on the wrong side of 40, I immediately started masturbating again, groaning with absolutely no control over my senses. I came again, raw and wet and sticky, panting, covered in sweat, my arm cramped, my cock shriveled up, blue and pink happy.  And the first thing I thought was: I wish I could speak with Angela; I wish I could go again.

Secrets in Lace is the most amazing site ever, and I would never have found it if not for you.  I think I’m going to buy their stuff just so that I can touch it. For a lingerie and vintage fetishist like me, this is where and when every nerve ending in my body and every sense is enveloped in a feeling of completeness, of perfection, of pure joy. All senses overwhelmed, dazzled by the shine of pantyhose, the tight and soft texture of garter belts, the sound of my fingers sliding on a camisole, the taste of a nipple getting harder and darker behind a demi-cup bra, the smell of a woman’s flower getting wetter and opening itself for me under an open-bottom girdle.  Even now, thinking about these things, I find myself once again aroused.

I am begging you to find time for me tomorrow because I do need you so very much.  The reason?  I want to take one of the fantasies you’ve been gently urging me to explore a step further.  I don’t know where it will take me, and I don’t know if I have the courage to go there.   Only with your guidance and reassurance do I dare breach that door.  Strange – every woman I’ve ever had sex with has told me at one time or another that I’m the most uninhibited guy they ever met.  Would they appreciate the irony of my needing you to force my boundaries?

I’ve often told you that even I am amazed that I’ve shared so much with you.  I’ve expressed desires and hungers with you that I’ve never shared with with any woman, be she someone I have a real-time sexual relationship with or a Phone Sex Operator/Fantasy Girl.  The truth is that any other phone-fantasy girl pales and wilts in comparison to you.  Yet I have been frozen for weeks in this place, facing the door I dare not open.

But here I am and I understand that I will have to make a major leap of faith in myself, and go forward just trusting you.  I want to open that door, and see what that room is like.  There is absolutely no one whose instincts I trust as much as I trust yours. Although my heart is palpitating with fear, I know that with both your decisive skill and superior intellect I will be in the best of hands.  And so I am reaching out to you, waiting for you to take my hand.  Waiting for you to let loose your transcendent imagination and walk me into that room.  That room that holds both my desires and fears.  Desires you’ve patiently nurtured until now they loom across my sexual psyche and can no longer be ignored. 

Desires you’ve created in a room you’ve created for this man you’ve created.  And I adore you for it.

Telling you that you are the finest and the best is just proof of the limitations of language. There aren’t words for you.  Perfect? Not enough. Deliciously and wickedly delightful?  Not even close.  A spinning Dervish of sexual imagination and willingness to explore?  Close, but still not quite there.

You are YOU.  There is no other.

Thank you, Mr. N

Yes, me loves & beauties & most-appreciated perverts, I took a little break.  What can I say? How do I defend myself against the surly comments, accusatory emails and self-righteous pouts?  How dare I?  Why would I? Enuff’s ennuf, already!  O Dear Beloved Mistress of mine, with much respect: Get your ass back to this blog — front and center, goddamnit, right where you fucking belong!

Let me be the first to say that there’s absolutley no defense for my abhorrent and rather lengthy neglect of this blog.  On the other hand, there’s also no remorse on my part.   I needed a  break.  I’d go so far as to say this breather, this intermission, this time out, was even very well earned.  Lengthy explanations would be tedious both for you and myself.  Let’s just say that if you know me well … you know why.

So what did I do?  Just where in the hell was I?  Okay, darlings.  Just remember you asked for it.

First of all, I wasn’t really G O N E entirely (at least some of the time) while I wasn’t posting to Zen Fetish.  I was taking calls (which is, after all, my main gig) — even for some seemingly interminable blocks of times here and there, now and again.  You just had to catch me at the right time.  And many of you did.  Just LOOK RIGHT HERE if you simply must have some verifiable, hard evidence.  Although,  by now you should trust enough to know that I only lie to you when I’m talking dirty. *wink*  The point being, silly boy, that if you really wanted to find me, you surely could have.

Anyway ….

I didn’t plan for a FemDom sabbatical.  Wasn’t penciled in on my calendar anywhere.  It just kinda-sorta happened.  And it kinda-sorta felt right.  And — as you surely know by now — I’m pretty much a girl who goes by the seat of her panties,

It all started when Bethany came to visit.  We had a lovely week, lots of girly-sibling time, lots of family time, lots of hugs and laughs and lots of tourist-y adventures.  But a week — when it’s only once or twice a year for sisters — is hardly ever enough dontcha know?  And so, after much pleading and begging and sweet-talking on Bethany’s part, I caved.  I threw doubt and caution into the wind and, before you know it, I was off on a two week adventure — a week in Cincinnati with my sister,  and then another week of traipsing around my home turf.  Bethany accompanied me back home too, so you might say we were a very bad influence on each other.  We were irresponsible adults having the time of our lives.  You should try it sometime because it was FUCKING AWESOME!

I won’t bore you with the details of shopping trips, dinners, spas, etc. etc.  I won’t tell you about the two encounters I had with two very ex-boyfriends who were wishing they weren’t so "ex" and probably thinking, if I’d only behaved better!  I won’t even entertain you with JewBoy’s petulant sputtering and impotent tantrum (when will he ever learn?) upon my return.  How dare I not tell this some-time companion who fancies himself my beau that I was going to be away? Huh? What? Me thinks JewBoy could use a savvy lesson or two from a few of my more obsequious callers in the practice of proper servility and appropriate expectation.

But I will tell you four things I learned while gone:

1. Thomas Wolfe was wrong; you CAN go home again.  You just can’t stay that long.
2.  When you suspect  that the woman effervescently showing off her Thomas Kinkaid collection just might be a few clowns short of a circus?  You’re absolutely correct.
3. Regardless of where you are, Chinese delivery always comes in a brown, paper bag with a menu stapled to it.  I’m serious.  Think about it.
4. A girl can purchase twice as many pairs of shoes when spending her money in close vicinity to an eroded Paleozoic land mass.

So, yeah, I  know.  That three weeks of R & R does not quite account for my protracted spate of none-blogging.   What was it?  Two months?  Maybe more, give or take a few days or a week? *sheepish grin*  But, as I’ve noted above, I WAS around.  I just wasn’t blogging.  So sue me, spank me, tell me I’m a heartless bitch.  But you know you still love me.  Go ahead, admit it. *batting eyelashes*

Truthfully and all kidding aside, I just needed a break.  I needed breathing room.  I needed to unplug and smell the roses. I wanted to read, watch a few documentaries, visit with my mother, connect with some friends.  I wanted and needed some technology-free moments.  I barely tweeted (check it out for yourself) and right now I’m sitting on over 1,500 unopened emails.

Don’t be mad at me, because, honestly, the business of FemDom PhoneSex is a taxing one.  If you are doing it righteously and honestly, it is demanding and draining.  And I’ve been doing it for a while now.  Only FemDom’s bleed, dontcha know?  But the good news, the great news, the wonderful news is that:  what’s good for me will definitely be good for you.

I’m back. I’m plugged in. 

And I’ve missed you.  Really

xo, Angela

 

    

among morning glories

the drip

drip

of lingerie

____________

Yes, it’s a non-traditional format (you can read about contemporary Haiku HERE).

But ….

Can’t you just smell the crisp-clean scent of the wet satin fused with the sweet perfume of blossoming morning glories? 

Thanks to HDB, who sent me ‘Haiku: Poetry Ancient & Modern,’ wherein I found this lovely Haiku by Alexis Rotella.  Ms. Rotella is an award-winning poet, with over 40 published books of poetry.  You can visit her website HERE and listen to her lovely Valentine’s Haiga HERE.

____________

Looking for Lingerie Phone Sex?  Meet my friends: CLICK HERE

And don’t you forget for a minute that I have a fondness for Girly Men & Boy Toys.  And one of us WILL be wearing lingerie.  You can count on it.

ABBOTT: Super Duper computer store. Can I help you?

COSTELLO: Thanks I’m setting up an office in my den and I’m thinking about buying a computer.

ABBOTT: Mac?

COSTELLO: No, the name’s Lou.

ABBOTT: Your computer?

COSTELLO: I don’t own a computer. I want to buy one.

ABBOTT: Mac?

COSTELLO: I told you, my name’s Lou.

ABBOTT: What about Windows?

COSTELLO: Why? Will it get stuffy in here?

ABBOTT: Do you want a computer with Windows?

COSTELLO: I don’t know. What will I see when I look at the windows?

ABBOTT: Wallpaper.

COSTELLO: Never mind the windows.. I need a computer and software.

ABBOTT: Software for Windows?

COSTELLO: No. On the computer! I need something I can use to write proposals, track expenses and run my business. What do you have?

ABBOTT: Office.

COSTELLO: Yeah, for my office. Can you recommend anything?

ABBOTT: I just did.

COSTELLO: You just did what?

ABBOTT: Recommend something.

COSTELLO: You recommended something?

ABBOTT: Yes.

COSTELLO: For my office?

ABBOTT: Yes.

COSTELLO: OK, what did you recommend for my office?

ABBOTT: Office.

COSTELLO: Yes, for my office!

ABBOTT: I recommend Office with Windows.

COSTELLO: I already have an office with windows! OK, let’s just say I’m sitting at my computer and I want to type a proposal. What do I need?

ABBOTT: Word.

COSTELLO: What word?

ABBOTT: Word in Office.

COSTELLO: The only word in office is office.

ABBOTT: The Word in Office for Windows.

COSTELLO: Which word in office for windows?

ABBOTT: The Word you get when you click the blue ‘W’.

COSTELLO: I’m going to click your blue ‘w’ if you don’t start with some straight answers. What about financial bookkeeping? You have anything I can track my money with?

ABBOTT: Money.

COSTELLO: That’s right. What do you have?

ABBOTT: Money.

COSTELLO: I need money to track my money?

ABBOTT: It comes bundled with your computer.

COSTELLO: What’s bundled with my computer?

ABBOTT: Money.

COSTELLO: Money comes with my computer?

ABBOTT: Yes. No extra charge.

COSTELLO: I get a bundle of money with my computer? How much?

ABBOTT: One copy.

COSTELLO: Isn’t it illegal to copy money?

ABBOTT: Microsoft gave us a license to copy Money.

COSTELLO: They can give you a license to copy money?

ABBOTT: Why not? THEY OWN IT!

(A few days later)

ABBOTT: Super Duper computer store. Can I help you?

COSTELLO: How do I turn my computer off?

ABBOTT: Click on ‘START’…..

_____________________________

(via my email.  Thanks, sis!)

xo, Angela

I think I forgot something.  Hmmm …

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