Creative Spanko Wench Blog

As I contemplate the title of this post, I am compelled to smile. The why will remain my secret, though I want to share that it represents a healthy transition from taking someone’s ugly vitriol personally and finally being able to laugh at its meaning and ultimately letting it go. Vulgar, lewd, sinful. LOLOLOL Me? Of course I am, aren’t we all; some of us simply more inclined to examine rather than hide or judge that part of ourselves?

And so… today’s post….

I went to work today, lots to do so I can have next week off & go home to Canada, though I did manage to get away by 3:30. From my first hours there the relaxed atmosphere my co-workers exuded struck me. While I’m certain that some of the hooded sleepy eyes were made of real fatigue, the calm satisfied aura was definitely made of more. Most of the office, ancillary and administrative staff were off today, taking the day in lieu of Christmas Eve, even though in some parts of the world there is a perfectly legitimate and civilized holiday that needn’t have been a greedy substitute – yup, Boxing Day. Here in the US the day after Thanksgiving is the heaviest shopping day of the year, in Canada and the UK, Boxing Day is. The popular myth is that all good Canuks & Brits box up many of those oddly chosen gifts from various and sundry well meaning relatives and rush en mass to the exchange counter. Of course that’s not the true sentiment behind Boxing Day. But whatever it’s original meaning it is a holiday.

Whether it was relief that the mad rush is over, or contented bliss from lingering indulgence, everyone I interacted with smiled and visibly approached everything with a calm I haven’t enjoyed with them for some time. I hope the energy lingers for a while. Even the deadlines I was at work to get ahead of today, though hard to fully flesh out and even harder to put away incomplete on Friday, seemed easy to measure up to, and just flowed off my fingers into plans and presentations.

My office is in a suite constructed within an office building next door to the hospital. My department shares the space (very cramped space) with IT & S, and Marketing. Don’t get me wrong, I like my office - it’s the first one I’ve had in 15 years in nursing/hospital management that has a window, but, there is only one bathroom in the entire suite, and guess what? It is located in a cul-de-sac hall that is completely occupied by men. Have you ever had to poop or pee on the day after Christmas in a bathroom with paper-thin walls? Let me just say one thing… Turkey farts! I happen to know I’m not alone experiencing this unique consequence of this season, and that each of the men occupying the offices flanking the lonely captive commode are long and intimately familiar with this fact of life, but I must say it was somewhat embarrassing. Turkey farts just cannot be controlled in the SBD tradition of pea soup farts… (SBD being silent but deadly, and every consumer of Habitant™ French Pea soup understand it’s association) but even if they could there is the problem of escaping the lavatory unseen and unconnected with that over-ripe seasonal, yet oddly so unique and personally imbued deposit. Flush, wait, flush again and wait…. The air handling system simply will not clear ‘the air.’ In fact your lingering and efforts only serve to draw attention to your plight. When I took too long answering the call after my quick cafeteria breakfast I was busted. Much to my demure embarrassment, after I flushed a third time washed again and gave up the closet to my distressed male co-worker, we both burst out laughing. The hallway was ripe with his plight. Poor guy! But so was the bathroom with mine! Turkey! And so the guys in the cul-de-sac hall let loose … yeah probably with hundreds and hundreds of unrestrainable turkey farts of their own, but more significantly with good natured chuckles. I had to giggle several times today, not just each time I looked their way, but each time I traveled the hallways of the hospital, went in to the dry cleaners, stopped at the money machine, stood in line to pat for gas and buy 3 liters of sprite, and realized that my nostrils detected that same tell tale remnant of the holiday and the generative indulgence shared with loved ones and those who care.

Words, hugs, laughter, smiling, sleepy, peaceful, and contented conversation and interactions and yes, even mild embarrassment and a seasonal olfactory onanism helped today feel special. Weird? Who knows…

And so….

Feeling contented and warm, as her day drew to a close, she let her mind stray to the places her flesh beckoned.

“Later!” she promised breathlessly when her hips squirmed impatiently in her chair. She was trying to work, and it was going well.

“Please! I promise!” She whispered when her fingers rebelled against reaching for the phone as it rang when her nipples tingled insistently.

And then she was home, her body ready for the shower, her flesh in need of much more than the flushing rush of hot water. Her body screamed, her flesh led the siren call … ‘The silken sheets of your bed and needy pulp of your finger tips want you first.’ The weak and the strong blended, and for her whole being there was no escaping what she had to do. Rich though the season was with indulgence of every kind, one appetite had been set aside in favor of family, work and fatigue. It would not be pushed away today, and there was nothing capable of pushing it down once all commitments were honored and the only one remaining could not be for now.

She dropped her clothing readying herself for the shower. Unexpectedly the cool air woke her nipples. “Warm!” they called to her hands, and instantly the call was obeyed. Palms and fingers pressed, the vestigial purpose of erection was not lost. No question, the effects of cold exposure was a sexual survival signal belonging to centuries past. At this moment, she didn’t know or care about that evolutionary possibility, though her body immediately responded to the sexual nourishment of the neuronal umbilicus that connected her nipples to her cunt. Her clit pressed up and out from under its thin protective hood, her pussy pulsed expressing the clear silken bubble of lubricant her body had been holding back all day.

“Please?” her whole being asked, and life conspired to say yes. As it should, now & then… ☺

Please, please please don’t leave the posts Doc Tsai made go un answered… I’m scared to death with worry about how they’ll be taken… please?

love

p

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 26th, 2006 at 7:31 pm and is filed under General musings, silly. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.