The beach is where I feel the most at peace. I lived in south Florida for a while and always enjoyed the humid sea air and crystal water. One of the best stress relievers was lying out on a towel with a flask of something strong hidden somewhere, soaking up sun until it was too hot to stand before taking a nice dip in the ocean.
Daily bathing, light perfume, clean and nice-looking hair, manicured nails… some may call it high maintenance, but to a good Southern Belle it is necessity. Momma used to have to hogtie and drag me to the bath when I was a little girl, but now bath time is one of my favorite times of day, second to only bedtime, if y’all catch my drift.
You know, it really wasn’t my fault we had to move to a new neighborhood. The women in our last neighborhood were so stuffy! I may be married, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t still look amazing, right? And it wasn’t my fault that their husbands enjoyed looking at me and talking to me. My hubby didn’t much mind when I told him we’d need to move. He said he knew I was a hellraiser from the day he saw me doing body shots in that honky tonk. But he said as punishment, I’d need to put our bed together myself while he’s at work.
Skateboarding is one of my passions. My dad got me going in an empty swimming pool when I was three and I’ve been pushing off ever since. I love just taking out any frustrations I might have out on the half-pipe. Yeah, I’ve taken a couple of falls, but I always stand right up and try again. Continue reading
Well, aren’t you a tall one. Good, I like my men to hover over me a bit before they fall to their knees. Strip down, let me see the rest of you. No, no questions, no speaking. I’ll let you know if I want to hear from you. Just stand there and let me look.
You will stand there for five minutes, no speaking, no moving. You will think of just one thing, single focus, the tip of my boot. Remember this is a meditation, it’s about letting go. It’s about leaving behind all thoughts of the mundane, the everyday, the chatter that fills your mind. Let it go, leave it out here. No, it’s not easy. It takes practice. Single Focus; the tip of my boot.
I’m going inside. Don’t think about time. I’ll call you when you’re ready.
Sup guys..it’s Fox here. I just moved into the neighborhood and I can’t tell you how freaking excited I am.
It is most definitely a big move for me, but I can only see things going up from here. Ha, get it? Up! Err, yeah..
Did you miss me? I know it’s been awhile and I wont bore you with the details but lets.. just say I’ve been kept busy.
So the other day I was laying there in my bed.. trying to sleep off a bit of a hangover and there is a knock on the door.. and well I tried to wish it away but it kept on getting more and more persistent. So I stomped out of bed forgetting to cover up with my robe and swung open the door…
My first love was a classic 442 convertible, the only thing that could get more attention than me topless.
Oh my goodness, it’s been so long! I’m sorry for deserting you my darlings but sometimes life just gets too busy and hectic and I forgot to come and share my adventures with you. I am mortified to have left you for so long and I promise it won’t happen again. But enough about me, let’s talk about you. How much did you miss me?
Today has been another busy day but I thought this might be a day you would like to hear about. You see, my services have been employed as a “muse”. Now, to be honest, I don’t have the least idea what a “muse” actually does but it appears, from previous occassions, that my job is to sit around looking fabulous while a gorgeous specimen of the male species tinkers with his keys.
A Southern Belle must be presented into society with a Cotillion Ball in her honor.
Hi y’all! I am just pleased as punch to make your acquaintance and it’s your pleasure – I assure you. Like every Southern Belle, I had a Cotillion Ball. It was a little later than most. My Daddy, bless his soul, wanted me to finish my education first. After Daddy passed on, Momma turned into a lush and graduated from mint juleps to moonshine. I was entertaining a gentleman caller on the front porch one night when Momma caught us. She got the vapors and had a tragic fall off the front porch. Since Momma and Daddy were gone, my Cotillion was left up to my Uncle John and his wife. His wife disliked me more than a mosquito on a humid summer’s night and insisted my Cotillion be held at their home rather than the Country Club. That night, I wore a gorgeous white gown, tons of pancake makeup covering my tattoos, Momma’s pearls, and the “Hussy Red” lipstick my Uncle’s wife hated so much.
