Our Tree

I mentioned in this post that there was a story to go along with the photo, and had planned to share it right away, but then I found out that that Dendrophilia – Trees – was going to be an August Kink of the Week, so I decided to wait to tell the tale.

We had headed down to stay at a cabin south of here, in the Ozarks. There is a herd of wild horses in the Ozarks that I’ve been lucky enough to run across a couple of times before, and I wanted to show them, and the area, to K. We got started a bit late that day. The trail was supposed to be 6 miles, and it was dense woods with lots of shade, but the temperature was in the 90’s and it was really humid, so we had the trail to ourselves for the most part. In fact, we might not have seen another soul on the trail, at least until we got to the spring. I had worn a skirt to tease K, though I had been chicken to go without panties – I am not a big fan of insects in my girlie bits!

I don’t know if I have mentioned that K and I met in a hiking group. A kinky hiking group. No, the group didn’t get kinky while we hiked, but it was a great way to hang out with other kinksters and feel able to be open about who we were – and, occasionally, to steal a kinky moment or two here or there. Only a few weekends before, he and I had been hiking at the back of the group. This was before we were “out” to the group, so we were, you know, on the low down, teasing and flirting with each other on the sly. He kept teasing me, flustering me, making me pause and listen to him whisper ribald things into my ear – in particular a dirty story about fucking me up against a tree. It became a private joke between us, what that tree might be – an elm? A maple? Maybe a hemlock?

Turned out it was an oak. A couple miles into the hike in the Ozarks he pulled me just off the trail – he had found the right tree. Our tree. Pushing me up against it, he finger-fucked me right there in the woods, with the trees the only witnesses. Well, and maybe a squirrel and a bird or two. It was a delicious start to what turned out to be a lot longer hike than either of us anticipated (8.9 miles instead of the promised 6.)

So. Do I have a tree kink? I didn’t think so…but now I can’t help thinking of him pressing me into that tree, the feel of the bark, rough against my skin, his fingers buried deep in my cunt, his voice in my ear, “Cum for me, Jade.”

Maybe I do have a thing for trees after all.

Check out who else has a tree kink by clicking the link below…

Check out August’s Big Sexy Words…

And see who else is celebrating the Blog Days of Summer!

A Tall Drink of Water

A man or woman that is tall, gorgeous, and super delicious – like on a hot day, a tall drink of water is irresistable.

I know, I know, Sinful Sunday is supposed to be an erotic image, but this is my blog and I get to decide what’s erotic – and damn it, this is one sexy image! I tried cropping out whatever part of my body that is that’s invading the picture on the bottom left, but that cropped out his bare feet, and…I’m having none of that. I want him from his delectable bare toes to the tips of that long, curly hair that you can’t see in this pic, but that I love to tangle my fingers in.

“Tall drink of water,” indeed.

The prompt this month for Sinful Sunday is “drink.” Click the link below to see who else is participating this week!

As promised…

More Puerto Vallarta!

As I mentioned in my earlier post on my trip to PV, my daughter and I were reliving a trip that we had taken there 12 years before. A highlight of that trip – and that I blogged about way back then, in my old poly-focused blog, A Poly Life – was a hike from Boca de Tomatlan to Playa Las Animas. You can read about our first time here: The hike from Boca to Las Animas, and see how much that whole area – and the trail – has changed. It was both a trip down memory lane for us and also a shock. Before, there had been no one on the trail – literally – and I think we only saw a couple kayakers on the water until we got to Las Animas. Once at the beach, there was one or maybe two restaurants/bars, a rickety pier going out into the water for the little water taxis/fishing boats, and that was it. Now there are multi-million dollar homes, yachts, fishing boats, cruise ship excursions to the secluded coves, several restaurants and bars, a new resort and so. many. people. It was still beautiful…but less idyllic. Truth be told, we were both a little heartbroken that our isolated hike in the wilds of Mexico had turned into another heavily-trafficked tourist destination. But. Such is progress.

As before, we got to Boca via public transportation. This being 2022 and the age of Uber and all, I almost decided to go that route, but using public transport was a key element to our previous trip, and we both wanted to reprise that. Of course this time we were masked.

Two buses later and we arrived in the sleepy little fishing village of Boca de Tomatlan, with its one convenience mart / bait shop, unpaved streets and wooden trail sign pointing across the river (over sandbars and through the river) to the hillside across from the town.

Wait, did I say “unpaved” and “sleepy”? Not even close. The town was hopping, there were paved streets and cobblestone walkways, and a new(er) suspension bridge had been built far back in the cove.

This was where we had crossed before, on foot.
The “sleepy” village is not so sleepy anymore.
The “trail” was cobbled and manicured until we got out of Boca.

Instead of dilapidated shacks clinging to the sides of the cliffs, with open fires to cook on and no electricity, the newly-cobbled trail went past tightly locked-up vacation homes and yacht launches, and the (still rickety) bridges crossed over tracks for trams used to ferry things from the water up the hillsides.

It was beautiful, but, with the memory of what it had been like before, somewhat surreal, and felt a little bit like we were trespassing. Still, much natural beauty surrounded us, and the trail once we got out of town was surprisingly technical – steep and rocky, challenging in places, clinging to the sides of cliffs before winding up into the jungle and back down. There were “Se Vende” signs all over though – I imagine if we venture here in another 12 years it will be all built up.

We had a bit of an unintended rock scramble when we went the wrong way at one point – the path clearly went to the left, but the Girl and I both remembered having gone to the right and down to the beach years before, then walking the beach aways in front of the (then) abandoned resort. I’m guessing they rerouted the trail when they renovated the resort – now it approaches from up above and behind, and the path takes you away from the resort itself, and again, it’s been cobbled, quite prettily. We had an unexpected find in our rock scramble tho – a Mother Mary statue high on the cliffs.

The isolated cove where we had seen the lone kayakers before was completely changed too – there was a party boat anchored at the mouth of the cove, the house above had been renovated and gated, people swarmed the beach and a construction crew was working on what would soon be a restaurant or bar just off the path.

Arriving at the seriously busy Las Animas beach, we promptly found a table and relaxed. Another happy accident was that we asked our waiter if any of the water taxis went back to Puerto Vallarta, instead of to Boca, where we’d have to wend our way back to PV by bus again. We were hot, tired and sweaty, and didn’t relish the thought of the hot bus ride back. He said yes, but actually what he did was charter us a private ride back across the water – a point we misunderstood until we asked him what time it would be leaving and he led us down to the water and showed us the boat and it’s driver. It was substantially higher than the boat to Boca would have been, but by that point we didn’t care – I was thrilled to be on the water anyway, so it was a bonus to me.

All in all, a lovely reprisal of our previous trip.

Having a well-deserved pina colada afterwards!

On the mend.

Wow that was a rough few days. But I woke up considerably better today, and then, to my delight, I had an unexpected text message: “You have a delivery at your front door.” Mystified, I opened it to find a bag of bagels on my porch, and the Hypnotist standing a safe distance away by his car. What a wonderful surprise! And even better to get to sit with him (me masked, him far away) on my back patio for a few minutes, until exhaustion overcame me and he ordered me back to bed. But not before he made me squirm and blush, commenting on my panty-less condition. What?! Would I do that? Come out in a short dress and no panties?? Even in my recovering-from-Covid state?

Why yes, yes I would.


I thought my muscle aches this morning were from working out yesterday. I thought my overheat was hot flashes. By the time I recognized that my throat was sore and my body ached in places I hadn’t exercised, I’d already spent two hours with my parents, helping them with medical and computer stuff. By the time I was on the way home I was shivering with fever and everything hurt. Shivering in the bath with a 101 fever, I had no doubt what the home test would show. I had no idea it could come on so fast or so hard.

I’m sick and miserable and worried to death. The ‘rents just had Covid two months ago, so my sister hopes they have enough antibodies. My coworkers, who my department head insists all meet in person every Tuesday, me included, have been exposed. I’ve exposed my son and my sister, obviously Ad and possibly K. I’m heartsick and wracked with guilt, as though I’ve deliberately brought on the plague. 

I’ll try to write the next couple days, if I feel up to it. We’ll see. Right now I feel like shit and just want to be coddled and taken care of. Instead, quarantine, and hoping against hope I haven’t infected anyone else.

Dog Days / Blog Days

I have no idea if I have participated in the “Blogs Days of Summer” meme before, though the title is familiar so it’s possible I have.

Or maybe I just recall seeing it around the blogosphere, I dunno.

In any case, here I am giving it a go, because I am all about having a reason to try and blog daily (I mean more than just “because.”) I’m not going to get my panties in a twist if I don’t manage it, but, you know, it’d be nice to hit that 3x week task assignment, now wouldn’t it?

Speaking of that, I did not make that goal/complete that task last week. There were reasons…the Hypnotist and I spent a lot of (wonderful, blissful, sexy, hypnotic, kinky and even *gasp* “normal people”) time together, more than usual, this past week, so it was hard to squeeze in that one last blog post of the required three. BUT…better time management on my part in the beginning of the week is what was called for, so it was my responsibility to make sure it happened. And as a result…apparently I have a correction coming. I have no idea what form that might take. Aside from a couple thigh pinches we haven’t done this before, nor really discussed what that might look like. And I’m okay with that. I need consistency, and I want to be held accountable (and to hold myself accountable) and…course corrections are part of that. I’ll accept my just due (or “comeuppance,” as the Canadian often terms it) in good grace. I have no doubt that K will be fair in its meting out.

On a related topic, I’ve surprised myself at how much receiving his “good girl” has come to mean to me. I got up this AM to run – even though my bed was sooo comfy – because I wanted to read his “Good girl!” text to me. I made sure I got out the door on time the other day for the same reason. I had wondered before if it would feel patronizing on some level. But it hasn’t, and the good feeling I get only gets stronger as we go along. And then, hearing him say “there’s my girl,” or that I’m his girl? Squishies all over the place, from my head to my toes and all the special places in between. I am apparently becoming programmed.

(Haha, I know he will appreciate this – I was struggling for the word for what Pavlov did with his dogs (conditioned behavior) and put in “programmed” in the Thesaurus and it gave me “brainwashed.” Now there’s some warm, wet squishies.)

Anywaaaaay…watch this space. I hope to be around here a lot this August!

A Favorite Bra

I was flipping through images yesterday, searching for something else, and ran across this one. I loved this bra! Sadly, on my weekend in Eminence with the Hypnotist, we washed a load of clothes together (hiking/ticks) and it ended up…gray/blue. I am trying to find other things to wear it with, colored the way it is, but not coming up with a lot. (frowny face) Still, I have this image, which I really like.