An erotic story

I discovered Joy’s blog late last year, and was drawn to her offering of caresses, life’s experiences, maturity and toe-curling pleasure. She was kind enough to exchange several e-mails with a newbie and to then invite me for a visit. Not long into that first visit, I confirmed the accuracy of the mental image I had formed from her blog and e-mails-- she is indeed a very warm, smiling and friendly woman who energetically touches, plays and jokes until you beg for mercy. Now I am in Joy’s clutches, for it is difficult to imagine not visiting regularly,

A visit to Joy’s den of mischief not far from downtown Seattle begins with the front door opening and a smiling face soon peering around the door to welcome you. The smile becomes increasingly devilish with each successive visit. Once the door closes, you see all 5 ft. nothing of Joy in whatever outfit she has deemed appropriate for the occasion, season or mood, and you get one of the eight hugs that she says every human should receive every day.

Joy uses little rituals to set a mood and ease tension. First is a joint sloshing of tangy mouthwash, which you try not to choke on while laughing with her. Soon you are in her den and are requested to recline on her sofa, or playfully pushed onto it if you delay.  Joy’s next move is to remove your shoes and socks, to disappear momentarily to her kitchen, and to return with a large ceramic bowl filled with warm, soapy water. You are asked to submerge feet in water, where they are lightly scrubbed. The effect is to drain you of all tension, but fingernails are devilishly used on the soles of your feet if the draining of tension has left you staring aimlessly into space. Feet are dried, you receive urgent assistance in removing your remaining clothing (you may have unconsciously been removing it already), and you are sent to an adjoining shower to make body match feet in cleanliness.

By the time you return, Joy has set up her table and you succumb to her ministrations, varyingly inflicted with most every part of her body, or with her whole body, and each piece of clothing that she removes is dragged lightly across you so that you are crystal clear as to what is going on behind your back. Once you are allowed to flip over, because otherwise you will clearly hurt yourself, ministrations continue with all body parts allowable under sensual touch rules, until you uncontrollably cry uncle.

It’s not my style to provide a blow-by-blow beyond the above, although long paragraphs could be written about Joy’s well-practiced touching, teasing, rubbing. Each visit has been a little different so as to generate small surprises. I am a big fan of the long, slow build-up to a draining finish, and Joy is certainly for you if you are similarly inclined. Mischief is one of Joy’s favorite words, and she mischievously reminds me that Joy is into much more than just Healing Touch-- I’m judiciously saving up my courage to eventually find out what that might be about.