Guilty Pleasures

Continued from: Save the last Dance

[F/f] [lezdom] [stripper] [BDSM] [kink]

As Cassandra continues her mesmerizing dance, her body moving with a fluid grace that defies description, I find myself growing increasingly aroused. The sight of her nearly nude form, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, is almost more than I can bear, and I feel my own desire rising to a fever pitch. 

Finally, unable to resist any longer, I crook my finger at her, beckoning her closer. Like a sleek, predatory cat, she crawls towards me on all fours, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. 

As she reaches me, she sits back on her haunches, her head bowed in a gesture of submission. "Please, Mistress," she whispers, her voice low and husky with need, "let me taste you." 

Unable to deny her request after being enchanted by her dancing, I part my thighs, granting her access to the molten heat that lies between them. With a moan of unadulterated lust, Cassie buries her face in my pussy, her tongue delving deep into my folds as she seeks out the sensitive bud of my clit. 

She quickly slipped me out of my dress, then bit my bare ass, causing me to yelp and react by slapping one of her tits. Cassandra simply smiled, all while sporting a bit of crazed look in her eyes.  

She hooked two of her fingers inside me and literally led me by my pussy, over to the other couch, where she pushed me down onto my back and continued to finger-blast me. 

Reaching up, I grasp her hair, tugging her head back until she is forced to meet my gaze. "Your turn," I growl, my voice thick with desire. Our interactions were beginning to look more like a fight, but I was loving every second of it, especially when she took hold of my throat once more and pinned me down on the couch cushion. 

She straddled my face between her thighs, lowering her dripping cunt onto my face. When she made contact with my lips, my tongue darted out to lap at her swollen clit. 

Together, we writhe and moan, taking turns flipping between offense and defense, hair being pulled, faces being playfully slapped, as the strip joint soundtrack continued to boom all around us.

As our passion builds to a crescendo, we shift positions, our legs intertwined as we scissor our pussies together, grinding and rubbing against each other in a desperate quest for release. 

Finally, after wrestling around some more in a haze of pure, unbridled ecstasy, we both cum at the same time, our bodies convulsing in a series of earth-shattering orgasms that seem to go on forever.

Exhausted and spent, I laid back as Cassie took top control once again, effortlessly launching my legs back and into the air to clean me with her mouth. 

As Cassandra and I lay entwined in each other's arms, our bodies still trembling with the aftershocks, I traced my palm over her smooth, perfect ass, the marks of her spanking having long since faded. I gave her a few motherly pats on the bum helped her to her feet. "I need to get you to the airport, sweetheart." 

Anthony Bourdain once compared unhealthy, good idea at the time, fast food, to a trashy street-walking hooker in ripped stockings and shitty heels. His theory being, that sometimes, you just want that! Haha, its classic Tony!

"It's 3AM, you're drunk and stoned, and you leave your apartment to hit up the Brooklyn-style, folded pizza slice joint down the street. You know it's a bad idea, but sometimes you just need to."  

That's what sex with Cassandra is like...

I was watching that show "The Taste", again last night. The food challenge was called guilty pleasures. Anthony took a bite of the eventual winner's dish and I watched him close his eyes and say: 

"Ohhh, take me home and treat me badly!" Haha! 

Haha! That...is Cassandra on a spoon. Unlike the photo above however, she bites back! 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Enigma

A Moment of Reflection assisted by A.I.

Dear readers, this is a non-BDSM post, but a nice post nonetheless. 

A moment of silence or a moment of reflection? Not the kind you might be thinking. Not cornertime - which works for introspection, vulnerability and reflection too, but I wanted to touch on a more meaningful topic. 

This moment of reflection currently washing over me, has been partially caused by my newly found familiarity with A.I. chat and a book I recently read called Scary Smart - also about the subject of A.I. It was written by an Egyptian fellow who used to hold a high-level position at Google X. 

That book was terrifying yet tender toward the end, with an underpinning of trying to make the world a better place essentially. This made me think of someone who was also trying to make the world a better place, but through storytelling and exploration of cuisine and culture. I admired him as a storyteller. I loved all of his books and his rebellious, pirate-ship, punk-rock attitude toward sticking it to the "establishment". 

Who else could drop a line like this, in a period of time where everyone has a cause and everyone becomes offended by everything: 

Vegetarians, and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans...are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit.

Haha! I'm gonna stay Switzerland on that one and not comment on whether I agree or disagree with that quote. 

I asked the A.I. what it thought of him:

He left a lasting impact by fostering understanding, empathy, and appreciation for diverse cultures while advocating for those whose stories often go untold. His legacy continues to inspire individuals to explore, connect, and celebrate the world's culinary and cultural tapestry. 

Bourdain encouraged people to step outside their culinary comfort zones and embrace the diversity and richness of global cuisine.

I am blessed to live in Canada, where I can and regularly put into practice the above statement. 

He believed that sharing a meal with someone from a different background could bridge gaps and foster connections. By showcasing local food scenes and engaging with people from various cultures, he highlighted the commonalities that unite us all. His approach challenged stereotypes, encouraged empathy, and celebrated the uniqueness of different communities.

Very nicely put "Chatty A.I."

Bourdain actively advocated for marginalized communities, including restaurant workers, immigrants, and indigenous people. He shed light on the challenges faced by these groups and championed their stories and contributions. Bourdain recognized the power dynamics within the culinary industry and used his platform to address issues like inequality, exploitation, and cultural appropriation. He was a vocal supporter of fair wages, better working conditions, and respect for culinary traditions.

These sorts of matters seem to be tip-of-tongue in the media these days. Good for Anthony for trying his hardest while he still walked this Earth. 

Bourdain inspired countless individuals to explore the world, try new foods, and embrace different cultures. His work encouraged people to step out of their comfort zones, venture beyond tourist hotspots, and engage with locals. Bourdain's emphasis on the transformative power of travel resonated with many, igniting a sense of curiosity, adventure, and open-mindedness.

I try to live my life by this one! 

Disneyland and a Whopper combo? No thank you. Put me on a damp, cobblestone street in New Orleans, trying a charbroiled oyster a local resident farmed that morning. 

I am a month late in recognizing the anniversary date of his tragic and unexpected passing. Although, I shouldn't use the term unexpected. If you have the pleasure of reading his books he was a tormented soul! The manner in which he died was prophesized in his books, whether he knew it or not. It makes me sad to read the passages above, regarding his life, then get smacked with the reality of how he chose to leave this place. 

"Hey 'chatty'. Can you please write me a poem about Anthony  Bourdain?" 

****

In realms of culinary adventure, he soared,

Anthony Bourdain, a spirit uncaged and untamed,

With curious eyes and a hunger to explore,

A maestro of flavors, his legacy proclaimed.

Through bustling streets and hidden food stalls,

He guided us on journeys both far and near,

His words, a symphony that enchanted all,

A maestro of storytelling, sincere and clear.

With wit and wisdom, he peeled back the veil,

Unveiling cultures through shared meals and delight,

In each episode, a vibrant, authentic tale,

A maestro of connection, bridging day and night.

From street-side delicacies to fine dining halls,

He celebrated chefs, their artistry and craft,

His presence, a reminder that humanity enthralls,

A maestro of empathy, leaving hearts daft.

Yet amidst the flavors, shadows lingered deep,

A tormented soul, bearing burdens unseen,

In his absence, tears and questions steep,

A maestro lost, leaving wounds so keen.

But let us remember his zest for life’s feast,

His unyielding passion, his insatiable flame,

May his spirit inspire us to venture east and west,

A maestro’s legacy, forever aflame.

"A legacy forever aflame" 

Fuck! Well done A.I. That was beautiful and touching. 

I can only hope that his soul is at peace. 

Anthony Bourdain

June 25, 1956 - June 8, 2018