Doing Things With Skin

Her skin was already glistening as she stepped out onto the porch early in the morning. The humidity was high and she was prepared for a miserable day. Sometimes, life on the farm wasn’t what she wanted. She knew the land was precious, and she was passionate about it to the core. Yet, she wanted more. On this day, she was feeling unusually frustrated with it all. Maybe the heat was just getting the best of her. It has a way of doing that from time to time. She used her bandana to tie her long hair back, and went to work.

She made her way through the muck to the barn. The horses were restless today, probably feeling irritable due to the heat as well. That barn seems stifling when the air is so moist and she always feels bad for the animals. She hurried along her way so that she could let them out to run. Today was her day to clean the stalls, so the horses were going to be freed much earlier than usual. Lucky horses, she muttered to herself.


She is a beautiful woman, lithe and tan with a sinewy frame, her movements reminiscent of a wild cat on some level. Her daily work consisted of farmin’, work boots and jeans, and dirt. Some days she dreamed of having one of those fancy corporate jobs in the city. The ones where she could fix up her hair, put color on her face other than the sun kissed bronze she sported year ’round, and maybe high heels. She probably wouldn’t know how to walk in them though. She pictured herself as the boss, giving orders and directing an office through firm words and gentle gestures. Couldn’t be much different than breakin’ a bronc, she mused.


Lost in thought as she pushed and shoved the soiled hay until the stalls were clean. It was time to lay down fresh hay. She was singing to herself, her mantra as it were, and she never even saw him coming. Him. The mere thought of him gave her knots in her stomach. She despised that man. Gruff, angry and pompous to the core. Yet, she couldn’t deny that he was good looking, but that is all there was to him. There was no heart, nor intelligence beneath those muscles and tanned flesh. There was not a single selfless thought resting behind his ocean blue eyes. He was despicable. He was also her daddy’s best friend’s son, and she had already been warned about being disrespectful when he was visiting. “Mind your manners, young lady” her father always scolded. She was a grown woman, for god’s sake, and she should be able to express her likes or dislikes in any fashion she so chose.


He startled her as he entered the barn. Wearing freshly pressed Wranglers and a bleach clean wife beater, his golden skin glistened in the sun. He was, what the locals called, a weekend cowboy. His boots never thick with shit as hers were right now. Dirt never rested on his skin for longer than a mere second or two before it was quickly wiped away. She couldn’t help but wonder what in the hell he wanted in her barn. He was well aware that their father’s were out hunting together this weekend and her manners would not have to be minded just now. He just better watch himself. She was in no mood today.


“Whatcha doing” he called out as he entered her realm.


“Building a snow man” she called over her shoulder condescendingly. What did he think she was doing?


He approached her slow and sure of himself. So full of confidence that it made her stomach turn. She had to admit, silently to herself of course, that he was a fine looking piece of meat. She watched his muscles contract and relax as he moved through the barn, careful not to step in any dung. His thighs were strong and defined as the muscles strained against the denim with each step he took closer to her. She quickly looked away as his eyes caught her gaze. She could swear a cocky smile began to spread across his lips. Asshole, she muttered under her breath.


She turned away from him, facing the rear of the building now. Not that she had much to do in that particular spot. She was just about finished with this chore as it was. No, her turning away from him had more to do with hiding. Hiding her physical attraction to him, hiding her own wry grin at the thought of his physical presence, knowing he was checking her out right now, too. She new that she was a looker, as her father called it. She bent over, to scoop up a rake that she really didn’t need, just to give him a show. “Look what you can’t have” she thought to herself.


Just then he grabbed her around the waist and her pulled her close to him.


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Feathers, aren’t they so sensual?  I do believe that feathers on the flesh, especially when blind folded, is one of the best sensations I have ever felt. If you have never experienced the art of feathers, I highly suggest you do so at least once in your life.


Not everyone is comfortable giving up all control to their partner, therefore rendering the blind folding portion strictly up to the person in question. If they are not comfortable with it, so be it. Blind folding simply allows for an enhancement of pleasure by forcing a heightening of all other senses. When our bodies are forced to function without a sense it has grown to rely on, the other senses tend to sharpen in order to make up for the loss of one of their own. This is why blind folding, when complete trust is shared between two parties, can make any activity one of sensory orgasm.



Setting the ambiance is almost just as important as being emotionally ‘in the mood’. Turn the lights down. Candle lighting or simply relying on the natural light of the moon outside can bring about arousal. Lower the temperature in the room just a touch. Create an environment of cool air, just enough that when clothing is removed, and the air around brushes for the first time on virgin skin, goose pimples will rise from the flesh in reaction. This, too, heightens the feelings of arousal. Create some background noise. It doesn’t have to be soft jazz or light rock playing in the back ground. Get creative. Use sleep cd’s - sounds of babbling brooks, ocean waves, the forest at night. All of these things can bring about feelings of relaxation, of letting go of tension allowing for blood to flow freely within the body. It’s hard to be aroused if you cannot relax.


It is best to set up all of these elements before you plan on seducing your partner so there are no distractions when it’s time to bring out the feathers. Begin your feather play in the areas of flesh that are the least sensitive. Bring your partner’s arousal higher and higher with each gentle stroke of the feather. Follow the lines of your partner’s body. Light, wilty touches causing goose pimples in reaction to the wispy movements that dance along their skin. Move gently to more sensitive areas, such as the under sides of their knees, lower back, inside thigh or even genitals. Follow up the feather strokes with your tongue, retracing the feather’s steps, or vice versa. Keep each stroke nearly light as air, using your tongue to offer different points of pressure. Your hands and fingertips can also be brought into the game, but just be warned! Once your hands begin roaming the flesh after the feather play carries on for a spell, there will be no more feather play. At this point, the roaming hands will turn into hot, hungry love making full of desire, passion, and eroticism.


Now, isn’t that what sex should be all about?


See how much fun feathers can be? I do believe this theme brings out the erotic in me. Now, to go and begin some feather play of my own…. 

Yeah. I don’t like this theme either. Hmff.  It will be changing soon so writing can commence. I’m finding this one to be inhibiting my creativity. It’s too loud.