I’m here.

Hi baby, I’m here. I’m waiting for you in eager anticipation of your next call or visit. I’m here. Patiently waiting for time to be right and the stars align for us to connect again. Maybe the next time we talk we can answer some of the questions I posed in a previous post. Or maybe we can just be friendly and talk small talk. Either way, I’ll be happy to feel the thrum of my soul reverb in my bones from the sweet song of your voice in my ear.

I could say more, but everything is just a repeat of what I’ve said before. So here I am, all yours and still wanting you. Just you. ❤️

Love you babe,

The Repressed Peach


I miss the build up to sex with strong foreplay, kissing, talking, pulling, rubbing. I want to feel that unbridled passion, the carnal need writhing through my veins. I want to feel the magic slip between us as we become one over and over again. Each feeding off of the others need and desire to satisfy every craving. To straddle your lap and allow your length to fill my body and stay there for a while. To feel the warmth of your body against mine, your chest sticking to mine with sex sweat, wrap my arms around your neck while you embrace me and hold my body with your strong hands. To let hours and hours of night or day slip by without a care in the world.

I love the ache in my legs from being stretched far and wide after a good night of playing together. I love the aftershocks of orgasm pulsing through my body hours afterwards. I miss the feel of being so wanted that a man feels hunger in his body to devour me. I want the hunger of his kiss pressed firmly against my lips, the growth of his manhood grinding into my pelvis, the heat of his body melting into me with pure, uncontrollable desire. I miss someone making me theirs. I miss someone taking control and giving me everything and taking all they want while I generously return the favor.

I want the chemistry and connection that really allows all of this to come to life. Without that chemistry, the spark of electricity between two souls, it’s all just mechanics. But that spark, that spark is everything. That’s when you know you’re creating magic, you’re warping time and casting spells into the universe that cannot be undone. I don’t know any magic more powerful than two people with fantastic chemistry combining their essence into that cosmic energy which creates life.

If God himself found this connection with another celestial being then I might just believe in the Big Bang theory and the birth of the cosmos. It’s all so fucking serene, intense, brilliant, and mind blowingly awesome… this connection.

I miss the post-orgasm cry that consumes my body after someone makes love to me. I miss the lighthearted conversation and gentle touches while laying side by side recounting the day and winding up for round 2 (or 3 or 4). I miss the tender loving shower or sticky sleep that soon follows. I enjoy the adventures in playtime. I miss exploring your body and finding new ways to excite you. I miss being able to follow my intuition and read your body language to know what you need next. I miss listening to your breath and the love noises you make when I’m on the right track. I miss intuitively knowing what your manhood needs to find his release.

I miss our energy. I miss the connection that transfers so easily between us as though the moon is looking at his stars. I miss your sweet kiss and the passion that springs back to life in my belly. I miss your strong hug, the one that sends a message straight to my soul that says “I’m here. You’re ok.” It’s like we find each other all over again each time we hug. No time is like the last and each time feels like the first time. So fucking beautiful baby. Just beautiful.

It’s the simple, easy things between us that make the erotic moments so intense. The way we respond to each other. The words we use in our conversation. The moments we share where no physical interaction is taking place but our cup gets filled with love and adoration for each other. It’s the moments when I feel a strand of jealousy weave through my heart because someone is laughing with you and I missed it for some reason. It’s the locking of our eyes when we meet at a game or event and we search for each other across the field or the room. It’s the light conversation exchanged as we stroll down a hallway together. It’s in the shared jokes and memories of moments spent sharing an office together. The moments when you say something coy and flirty in a room full of people and nobody knows what you meant but me. It’s the gentle brush of your hand against the back of mine. The lean of your body toward me as I speak. The gentle touch of your hand at the small of my back as you allow me to walk into a room first. The fire that burns deep in the back of your eyes as you place your forehead against mine and search my eyes before kissing me. Your sweet words are like honey to my soul. You say kind words all the time. Even if we are laughing and cutting up, your words don’t hurt. You’re thoughtful and compassionate. Sincere and honest. Loving and passionate. And god knows how much more I could say about that, but we just work baby. We just do. And I love everything about it because those times when I’m enjoying the length of your wand inside me as we cast spells together, I know I’m safe in all ways. I know you always have my heart, mind, body, and soul in the safest place it’s ever been; in your heart.

Always and forever yours,

The Repressed Peach

Ups and Downs

Isn’t it just some kind of craziness that in the span of 24 hours you can go from laughing and enjoying friendship to feeling anxious about a job interview to crying your eyes out about your dad’s death and then laughing at silly interactions?

Life is so bipolar it’s annoying. I hate the swings. I wish it could just be more of a steady stream of little ups and little downs with many breaks between the downs.

I’ve experienced another couple of deaths in the span of four months. My nephew at a wee 4 months old died in February from a rare genetic disease and my step dad just died this past Sunday, June 1st, after a long battle with COPD, congestive heart failure, and kidney failure even after kicking cancer’s ass. He was cancer free and still died at the rather young age of 62.

He wasn’t perfect. He hid too long in his tech-cave, he didn’t socialize often, he hardly finished a single task around the house, he was a devout republican with little room to argue, he liked guns, ate fried food, drank too much Diet Coke and was lit up like a smoke stack smoking whatever brand of cigarettes he could find. He did however love the fuck out of my mom. He never wavered. He never played with her emotions. He didn’t hurt her. He didn’t hit her. He didn’t use drugs. He wasn’t an alcoholic. He didn’t sexually abuse us kids. He didn’t physically abuse us kids. He supported my mom through all of the craziness my siblings put my mom through when they were young adults. He stood beside her and got mad, fussed, fought, and stayed. He stayed. Every day he stayed and for 21 years of marriage he died peacefully at home in his bed during a midday nap. My mom was right beside him and heard him take his last breaths then he was gone.

There were ups and downs in his health since he was first diagnosed with cancer in the fall of 2015. He gained weight and lost it. He would eat well and then not at all. He would be pain free and then he would suffer immensely. He was so sick. He was also just 62. So young and so sick and still loving my mom. He decided against dialysis in his last four months of life as he wanted quality of life, not quantity. He was simple yet complex in some ways. He was a pain in the ass sometimes but had a heart of gold full to the brim with love for his grandkids. He never seemed too keen on me, but that didn’t change the fact that he loved me in his own way. He came into my life so late, I was almost 18 when he and my mom got married and soon after that, not even a year later, I moved out of the state. Regardless, he was the only semblance of a father figure I had consistently for the majority of my life. He was my son’s grandfather; the only one he’s ever known, in fact.

So tomorrow we pay our respects as we lay him to rest in the hands of God our Father. May God receive His son and give him the good news: “My child, it is finished.” Tomorrow will be chock full of tears, tissues, laughter and family. Hopefully it will all balance out and the day will be smooth sailing despite the circumstances.

And maybe life will find a new rhythm that puts it all back in balance.



The Repressed Peach

Virgo Love Language

I just read an astrological characteristics info-graphic that said the following:

So now I’m wondering… have you witnessed evidence of my love? Do my actions speak volumes in the love department or am I missing the mark in some way?

I’ve written nearly 100 posts in this blog that have something to do with you, and I’ve done as much as I could with various gifts, meals, gestures throughout the last six years yet I am curious to know if there’s that one thing that’s missing that I need to do in order to express my love to you.

Maybe it isn’t the chicken strip meal you like from the restaurant around the corner from work. Maybe you don’t need the frozen coffee drink you like after a long night of football or basketball the night before. Maybe it’s not the collectors items or specialty adult beverages that I had to go out of state to find.

Maybe it’s more in the way that I show your body how much I adore you. Maybe it’s how my eyes look loving up to your tall frame and pour love into your soul. Maybe it’s how my hands find the sensitive places so easily and remember the need you demonstrate.

However, maybe it’s not any of this which may be why we aren’t together. Maybe I’m just overthinking all of it and the answers are more obvious than not. I’m only left to my own imagination here so anything’s a possibility.

Regardless, I miss you. Just like I have and always will. Maybe you’ll be the forever I never got to experience.


The Repressed Peach