Moochie’s Musings (and a pic or two)

RickTango said:

My compliments. This is a beautiful thread and having an index of both photos with writings is brilliant. Thank you for sharing Moochienanu..

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Rick, thank you so much for your feedback! I appreciate you taking the time to comment. I won’t even call you a stalker for it .

drtshare said:

Lovely Lady, You are welcome. How you do index will change over time .. it becomes a part of you. It is more about what feel right to you. The only caution is not to go into your normal life things.. town/state you live... be general about job. One other thing please read this http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=1437518 it has great info about Photo Privacy and Safety.

I hyope you will share. Thank you fo all that you have shared on your wonderful thread.

Hugs

old borg fred

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Thank you kindly for your sage advice, and I have read through the link provided and will take it into account in my writings. I’m hoping I stay vague enough that it is difficult to tell what/where/exactly who I’m talking about (unless you were an active participant of course).

I’m too tired to post much more now, so I’ll look at posting on the breast size thread tonight or tomorrow. *grin*

Moochienanu said:

The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you

I think in lyrics. I feel in songs. I get a cathartic feeling singing in the car as loud as I can with the music blaring. I haven’t sang karaoke in a long time... and decided to take the plunge and go the other night. I didn’t sing “Take me to Church,” but someone did. Someone very sexy. Someone who can really take the lead while dancing. The chorus took me by surprise and I had to excuse myself for a minute to take a deep breath outside.

Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

It was like being hit in the chest with a softball: the wind knocked out of me. Those lyrics... I fell apart. I was transported back to a year ago and trying to get through the holidays... holidays in my family start in September because of birthdays... birthdays through until the end of December... how am I supposed to cook a turkey without him on the phone? I stood outside the bar with my back against the brick wall, taking deep breaths and trying to figure out why I was hurting so much. And there it was: the kernel of truth I needed. I don’t feel like I did a year ago. Not anymore. I’m stronger now. More independent. I’ve changed so much... and that’s scary. I stood up, marched my ass back in that bar and sang “I’m so sick.”

If you want more of this
We can push out, sell out, die out
So you'll shut up
And stay sleeping
With my screaming in your itching ears

PS. Sorry this isn’t super sexy/lusty... but I think it’s one of the reasons I’ve been feeling off lately... so I felt like sharing. Have some sexy purple teddy pics to help keep balance!

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Moochienanu said:

When I’m in his bed, I belong to him. Those are the first words he will make me repeat. I will never forget how his voice changes when he says it. So matter-of-fact. I believe him, listen to him, follow his every order when he uses that voice. Even apart, when he commands, I do. He uses me, loves me, tosses me, fucks me, claims me, and pleasures me to the core. He makes me feel safe when his arms are around me: enveloping me with those same muscles that also pin my hands above my head as he buries himself deep inside me while I moan and plead for more. His commanding presence calms me. Quells my fears. Makes me feel stronger. Pleasing me pleases him, and I love to please him. I don’t think: I know what to do because he tells me. When I am in his bed, I will belong to him and everyone else disappears.

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Moochienanu said:

I didn’t think I’d be staying that first night, so I didn’t bring a toothbrush. He had an extra. It was better than the one I have at home: one of the fancy ones with the things that massage your gums on the sides. I brushed thinking about every time we had seen each other in this exact pose before. Then he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I finish brushing, rinse, spit, and I tap off the fancy brush and let it rest there at the edge of the sink. I can feel his eyes on me, so I let my eyes look up into his... I smile at him behind me in the mirror while I feel his furry chest on my back, his strong hands on my hips.

I want him again, but I wait. He is the one who says when. I can feel he wants me too as I allow my body to sink back into his. I rest my head back into his shoulder, exposing my neck, clavicle and bare shoulder to him. I feel his desire for me growing as we look into each other’s eyes in that mirror. Then suddenly there is a hand on my back with light pressure between my shoulder blades, pushing me forward, bending me over the counter. I acquiesce and grip the edge of the sink, but keep my eyes on his: my own little defiance I know there will be punishment for, and that excites me even more.

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Moochienanu said:

I am forever on the alert, but then... what’s this? A gent that has been watching me, the one who is ever around, who has those eyes that burrow into me and I can feel on me, stealing my breath daily... he has spotted my weakness to him. Similar in so many ways, and yet opposite at the same time. I want to be taken by him, to be absconded into a darkness unseen by most. He will pull me deeper into this magical place where safety and many unknowns await.

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Todger65 said:

As I carry you deeper into my domain, I feel you relax a little, I feel your eyes on me, your breath on my neck. I hear your mind asking questions “What is happening to me?” “Why am I not frightened, I know I should be?” “Why do I feel so relaxed and safe?”

I take you into the deepest part, and in the dim light I lower you gently to your feet and release you. “You are mine now, I will take care of all your needs. You will want for nothing else.”

My eyes look deeply into yours as I caress your hair.

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SamMalone12 said:

Thank you!
that was fun!!

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Moochienanu said:

I still want him. He teases with me. He says I mean a lot to him. I’m melting. It’s like my whole body is smitten. It’s those eyes, though. He has those eyes and in combination with that drop dead sexy body...God! How I want him. I want him to fuck me. The way he looks at me, talks to me. He makes me so wet just thinking about his kisses, his touch. Perhaps he will pierce me with his stare in person, leave me weak in the knees with a simple kiss, slip inside me and make me moan with such pleasure someday. Until then, I’ll ride this high he gives me.

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Moochienanu said:

I tell myself I would probably be okay if he had extramarital sex and relationships like I do. I actually think I would. But I don’t want to deal with any feelings of jealousy which may come up. I think it would be fine if I found out he was sleeping around, but at the same time, I don’t want to know if he is. He has been around the block, though... heck, the first time we met he had a girl on his lap wearing a skirt that left nothing between her thighs and his pants. I bring that up just to say that he isn’t a saint, so it’s okay if I’m not one too, right?


I’m constantly bombarded with thoughts about not being enough for him. I know I’m not near enough to give him all he wants or needs. I never have been. I am still irrationally mad about his rendezvous with that other girl. He reminds me that humans are foolishly too invested in pair-bonding and that we’re made to be polyamorous. I know this, but I still want to be his only treasure. I want to be the only one he shares his filthy thoughts and pictures with. I have a feeling I’m not. He’s never told me I’m the only one... I guess it’s silly to assume exclusivity just because I want it. My true fear is that he’s secretly a collector: he has many other little girls sharing his lap. I’m not good at sharing. The golden book of sharing hasn’t hit home with me yet. I prefer to be in darkness about it either way.

He messaged me: “How are you doing today?” He told me he would get back to me on Saturday night. It’s Monday. I didn’t bring it up. I just answered with truth. I don’t want to know what he does while I’m not with him. I know he doesn’t want to be with me because his feelings are deeper than he admits. I’m only a stopgap until he finds someone who can be only his. He’s got my entire devotion while in his bed, but for some reason I can’t sleep well next to him. I lie every time he asks how I slept. Something is wrong with me inside that I can’t let my guard down laying there with him. I think it’s because I fear he’ll decide to leave me again and this time I won’t be able to stop him or change his mind. My wiles only go so far in his enrapturing.

I’ve never felt a connection to someone so far away. Talking on the phone with him as I fall asleep is like falling into his arms. We chat as he drives and we remember things from that night and my eyelids get heavier. I tell him a silly concern and he answers with kindness and such a tenderness in his voice. With him I could sleep for days and feel completely safe. He gets jealous, and I have to say that it’s refreshing and sweet in a way. I don’t like making him upset, much as he doesn’t like to do the same to me. He grins and bears my promiscuity; I hear it in his voice and tones. His mind is as dirty as mine sometimes and the thought of his hands and touch makes me shiver with longing.

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Moochienanu said:

I tell myself I would probably be okay if he had extramarital sex and relationships like I do. I actually think I would. But I don’t want to deal with any feelings of jealousy which may come up. I think it would be fine if I found out he was sleeping around, but at the same time, I don’t want to know if he is. He has been around the block, though... heck, the first time we met he had a girl on his lap wearing a skirt that left nothing between her thighs and his pants. I bring that up just to say that he isn’t a saint, so it’s okay if I’m not one too, right?

I’m constantly bombarded with thoughts about not being enough for him. I know I’m not near enough to give him all he wants or needs. I never have been. I am still irrationally mad about his rendezvous with that other girl. He reminds me that humans are foolishly too invested in pair-bonding and that we’re made to be polyamorous. I know this, but I still want to be his only treasure. I want to be the only one he shares his filthy thoughts and pictures with. I have a feeling I’m not. He’s never told me I’m the only one... I guess it’s silly to assume exclusivity just because I want it. My true fear is that he’s secretly a collector: he has many other little girls sharing his lap. I’m not good at sharing. The golden book of sharing hasn’t hit home with me yet. I prefer to be in darkness about it either way.

He messaged me: “How are you doing today?” He told me he would get back to me on Saturday night. It’s Monday. I didn’t bring it up. I just answered with truth. I don’t want to know what he does while I’m not with him. I know he doesn’t want to be with me because his feelings are deeper than he admits. I’m only a stopgap until he finds someone who can be only his. He’s got my entire devotion while in his bed, but for some reason I can’t sleep well next to him. I lie every time he asks how I slept. Something is wrong with me inside that I can’t let my guard down laying there with him. I think it’s because I fear he’ll decide to leave me again and this time I won’t be able to stop him or change his mind. My wiles only go so far in his enrapturing.

I’ve never felt a connection to someone so far away. Talking on the phone with him as I fall asleep is like falling into his arms. We chat as he drives and we remember things from that night and my eyelids get heavier. I tell him a silly concern and he answers with kindness and such a tenderness in his voice. With him I could sleep for days and feel completely safe. He gets jealous, and I have to say that it’s refreshing and sweet in a way. I don’t like making him upset, much as he doesn’t like to do the same to me. He grins and bears my promiscuity; I hear it in his voice and tones. His mind is as dirty as mine sometimes and the thought of his hands and touch makes me shiver with longing.

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Moochienanu said:

I tell myself I would probably be okay if he had extramarital sex and relationships like I do. I actually think I would. But I don’t want to deal with any feelings of jealousy which may come up. I think it would be fine if I found out he was sleeping around, but at the same time, I don’t want to know if he is. He has been around the block, though... heck, the first time we met he had a girl on his lap wearing a skirt that left nothing between her thighs and his pants. I bring that up just to say that he isn’t a saint, so it’s okay if I’m not one too, right?

I’m constantly bombarded with thoughts about not being enough for him. I know I’m not near enough to give him all he wants or needs. I never have been. I am still irrationally mad about his rendezvous with that other girl. He reminds me that humans are foolishly too invested in pair-bonding and that we’re made to be polyamorous. I know this, but I still want to be his only treasure. I want to be the only one he shares his filthy thoughts and pictures with. I have a feeling I’m not. He’s never told me I’m the only one... I guess it’s silly to assume exclusivity just because I want it. My true fear is that he’s secretly a collector: he has many other little girls sharing his lap. I’m not good at sharing. The golden book of sharing hasn’t hit home with me yet. I prefer to be in darkness about it either way.

He messaged me: “How are you doing today?” He told me he would get back to me on Saturday night. It’s Monday. I didn’t bring it up. I just answered with truth. I don’t want to know what he does while I’m not with him. I know he doesn’t want to be with me because his feelings are deeper than he admits. I’m only a stopgap until he finds someone who can be only his. He’s got my entire devotion while in his bed, but for some reason I can’t sleep well next to him. I lie every time he asks how I slept. Something is wrong with me inside that I can’t let my guard down laying there with him. I think it’s because I fear he’ll decide to leave me again and this time I won’t be able to stop him or change his mind. My wiles only go so far in his enrapturing.

I’ve never felt a connection to someone so far away. Talking on the phone with him as I fall asleep is like falling into his arms. We chat as he drives and we remember things from that night and my eyelids get heavier. I tell him a silly concern and he answers with kindness and such a tenderness in his voice. With him I could sleep for days and feel completely safe. He gets jealous, and I have to say that it’s refreshing and sweet in a way. I don’t like making him upset, much as he doesn’t like to do the same to me. He grins and bears my promiscuity; I hear it in his voice and tones. His mind is as dirty as mine sometimes and the thought of his hands and touch makes me shiver with longing.

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Moochienanu said:

I tell myself I would probably be okay if he had extramarital sex and relationships like I do. I actually think I would. But I don’t want to deal with any feelings of jealousy which may come up. I think it would be fine if I found out he was sleeping around, but at the same time, I don’t want to know if he is. He has been around the block, though... heck, the first time we met he had a girl on his lap wearing a skirt that left nothing between her thighs and his pants. I bring that up just to say that he isn’t a saint, so it’s okay if I’m not one too, right?

I’m constantly bombarded with thoughts about not being enough for him. I know I’m not near enough to give him all he wants or needs. I never have been. I am still irrationally mad about his rendezvous with that other girl. He reminds me that humans are foolishly too invested in pair-bonding and that we’re made to be polyamorous. I know this, but I still want to be his only treasure. I want to be the only one he shares his filthy thoughts and pictures with. I have a feeling I’m not. He’s never told me I’m the only one... I guess it’s silly to assume exclusivity just because I want it. My true fear is that he’s secretly a collector: he has many other little girls sharing his lap. I’m not good at sharing. The golden book of sharing hasn’t hit home with me yet. I prefer to be in darkness about it either way.

He messaged me: “How are you doing today?” He told me he would get back to me on Saturday night. It’s Monday. I didn’t bring it up. I just answered with truth. I don’t want to know what he does while I’m not with him. I know he doesn’t want to be with me because his feelings are deeper than he admits. I’m only a stopgap until he finds someone who can be only his. He’s got my entire devotion while in his bed, but for some reason I can’t sleep well next to him. I lie every time he asks how I slept. Something is wrong with me inside that I can’t let my guard down laying there with him. I think it’s because I fear he’ll decide to leave me again and this time I won’t be able to stop him or change his mind. My wiles only go so far in his enrapturing.

I’ve never felt a connection to someone so far away. Talking on the phone with him as I fall asleep is like falling into his arms. We chat as he drives and we remember things from that night and my eyelids get heavier. I tell him a silly concern and he answers with kindness and such a tenderness in his voice. With him I could sleep for days and feel completely safe. He gets jealous, and I have to say that it’s refreshing and sweet in a way. I don’t like making him upset, much as he doesn’t like to do the same to me. He grins and bears my promiscuity; I hear it in his voice and tones. His mind is as dirty as mine sometimes and the thought of his hands and touch makes me shiver with longing.

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toeskr said:

So no boobs, pussy or toes?

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Dribble said:

These words are balanced...and are the reason i pulled up a chair. I like real. I was pulled into the moment. I could feel your confusion...and that let me know mine was ok. It is hard dropping the protective walls. Watching another doing it, gives me strength. Funny how that works. Someday...i will work through this thread. I think there may be much to learn.

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Thank you very much, Dribble. I’m glad you find some value in my words. I usually debate for hours over whether to post something or if I’m getting my point across. I don’t know if there is much to learn about dropping my walls so much as it often causes trauma and termoil within any time I reveal something new about myself. I’m thankful you find strength from my example and if there is ever anything I can do to help you, please let me know.

SamMalone12 said:

That's beautiful!
you belong to him

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SamMalone12 said:

OMG, you kill me.

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SamMalone12 said:

Thank you!
that was fun!!

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SamMalone12 said:

and here's my https://*******.cc/image/67oki5nrb/

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SamMalone12 said:

what a great clean pussy !!

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Moochienanu said:

I can’t resist sharing my new pedi... I love the sparkly polish! Although I should give a bit of a disclaimer that I have sandal tan lines because I always forget to put sunscreen on the tops of my feet.

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Moochienanu said:

I can’t resist sharing my new pedi... I love the sparkly polish! Although I should give a bit of a disclaimer that I have sandal tan lines because I always forget to put sunscreen on the tops of my feet.

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Todger65 said:

I know how you feel. Without detail, I recently broke with a beautiful girl. My profound jealousy of the fact she was spending time with others and not me, even though at the outset it was agreed she could, caused a big rift. It wasn’t the fact that she had these others but the fact I was being excluded.

I supposevwhatvinam saying is not to let your jealousy get out of hand as mine did.

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hotcpu said:

Hope you can make sense of the balance you seek with Him. Now for the far deeper question ... matching bottom? ? Beautiful and very Fun Bra!!

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Balance is always a challenge. Deeper question? Like deeper in my pants? Short story: no. I don’t have any matching sets except one which I hate the bra enough that I don’t wear it very often. I do like this bra, though. Glad you do too!

Moochienanu said:

We were on his couch for maybe a minute. We looked through some movies on the television and kissed. He’s a really good kisser. Our first kiss had been only moments before, after we had decided to leave the pub and go back to his place to “watch a movie.” He had me ride in his car for twenty feet to take me to my own car: so chivalrous. When he dropped me at my car, he leaned over and we kissed for the first time. It was shiver-inducing. Jaw-dropping. Unfathomably miraculous. When we finally came back to ourselves and parted lips he let out a little happy noise and mumbled to himself “and you’re a great kisser. Damn.”

On the couch, kissing him was even more sublime... if that is even possible. We looked at a couple more movies and discussed their merits... and then we were full-on making out. His hands were on me, consuming me with his touch. He climbed on top of me on the couch and I could tell that he was excited through his pants. We grinded against each other there, kissing and feeling each other for a few minutes before he got up and lead me into his bedroom, apologizing for what we had to do next: we made his bed together (he washes his sheets on Thursdays and didn’t expect our first date to go so well, let alone get to the bedroom). I was wearing a jersey dress, see-through panties, and a pretty lace bra. He has a sizable mass over me, which I like so very much. It feels like he’s a real man, all muscle and fur... the thought crosses my mind that he can toss me around and use me how he pleases. Once we were done making the bed (he had to mansplain hospital corners which I actually found endearing in the moment), he picked me up with ease and laid me back over it so that he could kiss his way up my thighs. He slipped off my panties to kiss and lick at me, sucking at my clit until I was close to cumming. I haven’t had this kind of attention in a long time, so it didn’t take me long to get close to the edge of falling. But then he stopped and smiled and sat me up reluctantly. Still smiling, he removed my dress and bra in one fell swoop. It was so charismatic. He had charmed me naked and I was enraptured. Then he laid me back down, looked up at me from between my thighs and told me something I needed to hear: “you have a truly beautiful pussy.” He then went diligently back to work until the whole world became a blur and my entire body was feeling shockwaves and floating away.

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Moochienanu said:

We were on his couch for maybe a minute. We looked through some movies on the television and kissed. He’s a really good kisser. Our first kiss had been only moments before, after we had decided to leave the pub and go back to his place to “watch a movie.” He had me ride in his car for twenty feet to take me to my own car: so chivalrous. When he dropped me at my car, he leaned over and we kissed for the first time. It was shiver-inducing. Jaw-dropping. Unfathomably miraculous. When we finally came back to ourselves and parted lips he let out a little happy noise and mumbled to himself “and you’re a great kisser. Damn.”

On the couch, kissing him was even more sublime... if that is even possible. We looked at a couple more movies and discussed their merits... and then we were full-on making out. His hands were on me, consuming me with his touch. He climbed on top of me on the couch and I could tell that he was excited through his pants. We grinded against each other there, kissing and feeling each other for a few minutes before he got up and lead me into his bedroom, apologizing for what we had to do next: we made his bed together (he washes his sheets on Thursdays and didn’t expect our first date to go so well, let alone get to the bedroom). I was wearing a jersey dress, see-through panties, and a pretty lace bra. He has a sizable mass over me, which I like so very much. It feels like he’s a real man, all muscle and fur... the thought crosses my mind that he can toss me around and use me how he pleases. Once we were done making the bed (he had to mansplain hospital corners which I actually found endearing in the moment), he picked me up with ease and laid me back over it so that he could kiss his way up my thighs. He slipped off my panties to kiss and lick at me, sucking at my clit until I was close to cumming. I haven’t had this kind of attention in a long time, so it didn’t take me long to get close to the edge of falling. But then he stopped and smiled and sat me up reluctantly. Still smiling, he removed my dress and bra in one fell swoop. It was so charismatic. He had charmed me naked and I was enraptured. Then he laid me back down, looked up at me from between my thighs and told me something I needed to hear: “you have a truly beautiful pussy.” He then went diligently back to work until the whole world became a blur and my entire body was feeling shockwaves and floating away.

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Moochienanu said:

We were on his couch for maybe a minute. <snip>

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Moochienanu said:

We were on his couch for maybe a minute. We looked through some movies on the television and kissed. He’s a really good kisser. Our first kiss had been only moments before, after we had decided to leave the pub and go back to his place to “watch a movie.” He had me ride in his car for twenty feet to take me to my own car: so chivalrous. When he dropped me at my car, he leaned over and we kissed for the first time. It was shiver-inducing. Jaw-dropping. Unfathomably miraculous. When we finally came back to ourselves and parted lips he let out a little happy noise and mumbled to himself “and you’re a great kisser. Damn.”

On the couch, kissing him was even more sublime... if that is even possible. We looked at a couple more movies and discussed their merits... and then we were full-on making out. His hands were on me, consuming me with his touch. He climbed on top of me on the couch and I could tell that he was excited through his pants. We grinded against each other there, kissing and feeling each other for a few minutes before he got up and lead me into his bedroom, apologizing for what we had to do next: we made his bed together (he washes his sheets on Thursdays and didn’t expect our first date to go so well, let alone get to the bedroom). I was wearing a jersey dress, see-through panties, and a pretty lace bra. He has a sizable mass over me, which I like so very much. It feels like he’s a real man, all muscle and fur... the thought crosses my mind that he can toss me around and use me how he pleases. Once we were done making the bed (he had to mansplain hospital corners which I actually found endearing in the moment), he picked me up with ease and laid me back over it so that he could kiss his way up my thighs. He slipped off my panties to kiss and lick at me, sucking at my clit until I was close to cumming. I haven’t had this kind of attention in a long time, so it didn’t take me long to get close to the edge of falling. But then he stopped and smiled and sat me up reluctantly. Still smiling, he removed my dress and bra in one fell swoop. It was so charismatic. He had charmed me naked and I was enraptured. Then he laid me back down, looked up at me from between my thighs and told me something I needed to hear: “you have a truly beautiful pussy.” He then went diligently back to work until the whole world became a blur and my entire body was feeling shockwaves and floating away.

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