I really should be in bed but I've had the most scrumptious evening and don't want to give it up yet. I'm sure to regret it in the AM when the workday alarm clock starts screaming. Though it is Saturday, which means Sleepy Hollow will lull me awake.
I spent a lot of time reading folks' blogs and came across a group of new people I am developing the utmost respect for...amazing, intelligent, articulate and impassioned people...but that'll be for a post on NOP when I have the time. I wrote a bit. I felt better about myself than I have in a week or more. Cleaned a bit. Completely stripped my bed and laundered my favorite sheets. They're stretched out now, tautly waiting my arrival.
I walked Sadie around 2. It's 77 degrees out right now, the coolest air I've felt on my skin in many days. There was the merest taste of a breeze, I stirred it more with our brisk pace. There is virtually no humidity and the sky is full of clear stars. The brush of a wind and temperate air touched my skin and awakened my nipples just enough to the feel of the cloth of my shirt brush against them, not fully erect but interested, appreciative.
I came in a took my favorite shower...hair squeaky, slightly scratchy washcloth scrubbing away under water just a little hot. Soap scented with honey and oatmeal, shaved and buffed smooth. I dried with a large, fluffy towel fresh from the dryer and still slightly warm. Soft, warm and welcoming. Leaving the bath I felt fresh as a daisy, clean as a whistle (someone explain that one to me sometime?), fully exfoliated, silky smooth.
As I waited for my hair to dry, I noticed Figleaf had a new post up so I wandered over to his place. I love the way this man's mind works, can I tell you that? Forget reading the first several paragraphs...trust me on this. Go read the last four paragraphs first then read what came before.
The latter part is the reason I love this man's mind.
The former is the reason that, although I'm all freshly showered, and looking forward to not having to do that grooming before work in the morning, I'm probably going to go dive into my freshly-made, taut-sheeted bed and not be able to keep my hands off myself.
Combine the two and you have a man who is not afraid of being everything a man can be. Is there anything sexier in a man?
Happy belated HNT, Fig, and others. Middle-aged, though thoroughly and delightlfully scrubbed smooth, waist and left hip beneath shadow.
Time to go read a little more.
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