Game - private question, public answer

[AlexBailey]

Good morning, who wants a question this morning?

I’ll be your Huckleberry

 

[GoingBackToBed]

Good morning, who wants a question this morning?

Sure

 

[AlexBailey]

OH FFS! You broke me.

First off, I couldn’t do it with just one. I would need at least three or four. I could easily pick out two fine specimens in their binary splendor, but I’d also need to have a queer self-styled version.

I would need to thoroughly peruse the Ampics, taking notes, cutting and pasting different parts and pieces - a queer Frankenstein monster!

 

[BrendaBear]

I was asked about a particular first event… and it was so long ago, I truly have no recollection of who, where or when. Luckily, the question was not about virginity, because I do remember that.

 

[LustfulIntentions2]

Good morning, who wants a question this morning?

It’s not morning anymore, but give me a try, I guess.

 

[LizVegas79]

I'm open to a question

 

[LizVegas79]

My husband grinning at me as he dared me to ring the doorbell at our first swingers party. (I was so nervous I pressed the button twice!)

 

[hanban24]

Not where people could see, but yes have in a number of places. Always was careful to not get caught.

 

[LizVegas79]

I think it's my hair, but guys usually pick something else.

 

[hanban24]

Guys would say my boobs or face. Honestly, I’d probably say the same, although I think my mind should be the real answer.

 

[LizVegas79]

Guys would say my boobs or face. Honestly, I’d probably say the same, although I think my mind should be the real answer.

I agree but I guess I'm not that naïve either LOL

 

[hanban24]

I have and it was enjoyable. I do enjoy going on my own or with another girlfriend, but with a boyfriend can be fun too. They sometimes don’t pick out the best stuff, but it can be fun to try things on for them.

 

[hanban24]

I agree but I guess I'm not that naïve either LOL

My brain is less in everyone’s face initially

 

[LizVegas79]

When I was younger, absolutely everything about me. But now, not a thing. I am who I am (for the rest of this life anyways).

 

[hanban24]

When I was younger, absolutely everything about me. But now, not a thing. I am who I am (for the rest of this life anyways).

That’s beautiful! Love seeing other women being strong in who they are. Not enough of that in this world

 

[hanban24]

Ryan Reynolds is my go to answer for that. He is funny, clever, and hot. I’m sure there are some athletes out there though that’d be fun too. Take a ride on an incredible body. Not something I always look for, but a one time spin could be fun.

 

[Mei5ter]

The auction catalogue had identified her as 'Goddess, Roman, probably second century AD.' That was it. No identification of what kind of goddess she was. She was about eight inches high, and I supposed she was made of bronze, although the smooth, dark patina made it hard to tell. Her face wore a beauty of ageless, wisdom, and time had only mellowed and smoothed the curves of her figure. Without quite understanding why, I knew she had to be mine, and I bought her.

I named her Regina, which is Latin for 'Queen.' She lived on my desk in her own glass case, watching me as I worked. When I was lost for a word or phrase, I would sometimes ask her for inspiration. "Come on, Regina, you know what I'm trying to say..." And sometimes, though I naturally knew it was mere silly coincidence, the answer would quietly form in my brain.

Until that night.

At first, I blamed the whiskey. I was working late, and had just poured my third. I sat at my desk, scowling at a piece of work I was too tired to finish. This was shit. It was Friday night, and here I was again, home, alone, working.

"Looks like it's you and me again, Regina," I told her. I raised my glass in her direction. "My goddess, my muse, and my inspiration." I took another sip of the whiskey. "Always here, always with me, my constant in an ever changing world." It might have been the whiskey which made me expansive, but already I could feel something deeper stirring within me. "Beautiful with the beauty of eternity, wise with the wisdom of ages, lovely as the first morning and the latest sunset." Setting down my glass, I stood up, lifted Regina's glass case, and gently picked up my goddess, cradling her in one hand as I studied her for the hundredth time. "Whoever made you knew beauty, my goddess, and had seen perfection." Slowly, gently, I ran the tip of my little finger down her back, stroking it down her hair, in a little at her waist, out as I approached the full curve of her butt, and letting it stroke between her cheeks and between her thighs, until I found myself gently caressing her feet. And somehow, in that moment, mortal women no longer mattered. "The love of infinity," I told her, and without knowing what I did I brushed her head with my lips as I kissed her.

And I paused. Because my figurine had...changed. I sensed it before I understood. The goddess I had quietly worshipped on her little plinth as a piece of cold metal was suddenly warm in my hand. And not just warm...she was changing. Before my uncomprehending eyes, the patina of ages was fading and shimmering until, a minute later, as I cradled her in my hands, my goddess was a warm, living thing, tiny, beautiful and perfect. Goosebumps prickled my back as I felt her hair, now revealed as being long, dark braids, suddenly soft against my fingers.

A sentence read long ago, half-remembered, pierced my memory.

"If you love them enough, they become real."

 

[AlexBailey]

The auction catalogue had identified her as 'Goddess, Roman, probably second century AD.' That was it. No identification of what kind of goddess she was. She was about eight inches high, and I supposed she was made of bronze, although the smooth, dark patina made it hard to tell. Her face wore a beauty of ageless, wisdom, and time had only mellowed and smoothed the curves of her figure. Without quite understanding why, I knew she had to be mine, and I bought her.

I named her Regina, which is Latin for 'Queen.' She lived on my desk in her own glass case, watching me as I worked. When I was lost for a word or phrase, I would sometimes ask her for inspiration. "Come on, Regina, you know what I'm trying to say..." And sometimes, though I naturally knew it was mere silly coincidence, the answer would quietly form in my brain.

Until that night.

At first, I blamed the whiskey. I was working late, and had just poured my third. I sat at my desk, scowling at a piece of work I was too tired to finish. This was shit. It was Friday night, and here I was again, home, alone, working.

"Looks like it's you and me again, Regina," I told her. I raised my glass in her direction. "My goddess, my muse, and my inspiration." I took another sip of the whiskey. "Always here, always with me, my constant in an ever changing world." It might have been the whiskey which made me expansive, but already I could feel something deeper stirring within me. "Beautiful with the beauty of eternity, wise with the wisdom of ages, lovely as the first morning and the latest sunset." Setting down my glass, I stood up, lifted Regina's glass case, and gently picked up my goddess, cradling her in one hand as I studied her for the hundredth time. "Whoever made you knew beauty, my goddess, and had seen perfection." Slowly, gently, I ran the tip of my little finger down her back, stroking it down her hair, in a little at her waist, out as I approached the full curve of her butt, and letting it stroke between her cheeks and between her thighs, until I found myself gently caressing her feet. And somehow, in that moment, mortal women no longer mattered. "The love of infinity," I told her, and without knowing what I did I brushed her head with my lips as I kissed her.

And I paused. Because my figurine had...changed. I sensed it before I understood. The goddess I had quietly worshipped on her little plinth as a piece of cold metal was suddenly warm in my hand. And not just warm...she was changing. Before my uncomprehending eyes, the patina of ages was fading and shimmering until, a minute later, as I cradled her in my hands, my goddess was a warm, living thing, tiny, beautiful and perfect. Goosebumps prickled my back as I felt her hair, now revealed as being long, dark braids, suddenly soft against my fingers.

A sentence read long ago, half-remembered, pierced my memory.

"If you love them enough, they become real."

 

[AngelWithAShotgun]

The auction catalogue had identified her as 'Goddess, Roman, probably second century AD.' That was it. No identification of what kind of goddess she was. She was about eight inches high, and I supposed she was made of bronze, although the smooth, dark patina made it hard to tell. Her face wore a beauty of ageless, wisdom, and time had only mellowed and smoothed the curves of her figure. Without quite understanding why, I knew she had to be mine, and I bought her.

I named her Regina, which is Latin for 'Queen.' She lived on my desk in her own glass case, watching me as I worked. When I was lost for a word or phrase, I would sometimes ask her for inspiration. "Come on, Regina, you know what I'm trying to say..." And sometimes, though I naturally knew it was mere silly coincidence, the answer would quietly form in my brain.

Until that night.

At first, I blamed the whiskey. I was working late, and had just poured my third. I sat at my desk, scowling at a piece of work I was too tired to finish. This was shit. It was Friday night, and here I was again, home, alone, working.

"Looks like it's you and me again, Regina," I told her. I raised my glass in her direction. "My goddess, my muse, and my inspiration." I took another sip of the whiskey. "Always here, always with me, my constant in an ever changing world." It might have been the whiskey which made me expansive, but already I could feel something deeper stirring within me. "Beautiful with the beauty of eternity, wise with the wisdom of ages, lovely as the first morning and the latest sunset." Setting down my glass, I stood up, lifted Regina's glass case, and gently picked up my goddess, cradling her in one hand as I studied her for the hundredth time. "Whoever made you knew beauty, my goddess, and had seen perfection." Slowly, gently, I ran the tip of my little finger down her back, stroking it down her hair, in a little at her waist, out as I approached the full curve of her butt, and letting it stroke between her cheeks and between her thighs, until I found myself gently caressing her feet. And somehow, in that moment, mortal women no longer mattered. "The love of infinity," I told her, and without knowing what I did I brushed her head with my lips as I kissed her.

And I paused. Because my figurine had...changed. I sensed it before I understood. The goddess I had quietly worshipped on her little plinth as a piece of cold metal was suddenly warm in my hand. And not just warm...she was changing. Before my uncomprehending eyes, the patina of ages was fading and shimmering until, a minute later, as I cradled her in my hands, my goddess was a warm, living thing, tiny, beautiful and perfect. Goosebumps prickled my back as I felt her hair, now revealed as being long, dark braids, suddenly soft against my fingers.

A sentence read long ago, half-remembered, pierced my memory.

"If you love them enough, they become real."

Uhmm... was she still 8 inches? I heard that matters to some men. Something about size, but I don't recall exactly

 

[AngelWithAShotgun]

No, but there is an old joke about women parking too close to the curb because the driving instructor told her that this was eight inches...

Hey, I heard some women are good at following instructions

 

[Girly_girl]

Strawberries and Pineapples, usually cut them up into chunks or halves and eat plain, or use a cream cheese fruit dip with it.

Wow, hmm, I would probably make chicken breasts, with olive oil, garlic and sun dried tomatoes, green beans and some type of potatoes. Some wine, music playing.

 

[water_moutina]

Who has questions?

 

[water_moutina]

*tap... Mic test...*
*Cue the music*

Sweet dreams are made of my favorite vibrator
Who am I to disagree
I travel the world and seven seas
Cause I'm looking for more batteries

Some of them want to use it
Some of them want to get used by it
Some of them want to steal it
But imma kill if you touch my fav vibrator

 

[GoingBackToBed]

A ripe freestone peach. The outer flesh is soft and fuzzy while inside hides the sweet and juicy. And, those curves...

 

[GoingBackToBed]

Guys would say my boobs or face. Honestly, I’d probably say the same, although I think my mind should be the real answer.

I agree but I guess I'm not that naïve either LOL

The brain is the sexiest organ. It holds our wit, intellect, humor, desire, hope, arousal, kink, romance, and most importantly love, and so much more. Sorry, didn't mean to hijack. xoxo