Still…… TAP. TAP. TAP.

Yet, I’m a stubborn woman sometimes and I’ve been working my ass off, so I STILL try to go back to sleep. My body is tired, I’ve been doing hard physical training, also in the middle of moving…. I need my rest!

No dice. This fucking tap-tap-tap.

So, I launch myself up out of my bed and into an awake state. Immediately I have to pee. While going “tinkle”, as us big girls call it, I come to realize it’s raining. Wow! Still raining. This has been days now….

…… and then it fucking hits me. Raining.

TAP. FUCKING. TAP.

And this morning I discovered rain has a new mood for me best described in poetic symbolism: &*#%^$&*#!@&^%$#(@!(*!!!!!!!

The rain is an alarm clock with no freaking snooze button. Bastard! To add to that, my computer is running slow today. It never runs slow. I have a list of a gazillion and one things to do and not one looks appealing except yoga class at 6:30pm. Which deems me certifiably crazy because it’s an extremely hard class, in a room over 105 degrees. AND, I’m on my monthly moon. BUT, I know beyond a doubt it will get my mind, body, emotions and soul back in alignment…. the problem is, I have to wait until 6:30 and the day is done.

What does all that equal? I think there is a chance I’m going to be a feisty, feisty woman today.

Self shot photo of me in the shower

The sound of the rain is beautiful. If you close your eyes and really listen, rain is a symphony all it’s own. It goes through moments of soft steadiness, to staccato tempos, thunderous crescendo climaxes, innuendos of salsas, romantic suites….. there is not one moment that sounds the same as the one before. Each is unique, similar to all things genuinely full of life. Thinking of it now, I don’t believe I’ve ever had one orgasm that felt the same. Not once. Have you?

Rain is moody. If it’s bright sun out, there is always this sense of optimism and hope. I could be feeling discouraged and the energy of the sun brightens my day. (Come to think of it, how lovely if I could try to reflect that and be just that, brightness and lightness, to anyone I encounter). Yet rain has much deeper complexities it the atmosphere it creates. It is usually completely dependent on me and how I’m feeling. I’ve felt the rain reflect my deep pain and the drops represent my own tears streaming down my face. I’ve also danced in the rain, splashing and kicking puddles, joyfully playing… I’ve wanted to hibernate, read, rest and recover when it rains… I’ve felt discouraged, afraid and found the rain to be a depressing foreshadowing of hopelessness…. or like now…

…. I find the rain to be philosophical and contemplative. I have choices to make and I search my instinct for answers that lead me to my own truth. It always astounds me how nature can clarify my thoughts and feelings for me. I watch the drops and wonder what the pattern tells me as a reflection of the pattern of thoughts in my mind… and the pattern of choices I make in my life. The all the makes me, uniquely me, gathering up and flowing like this stream, following the gravitational pull of life’s mountainous peaks and plunging valleys. Where does my stream take me… can I see that far ahead? Do I go with my own flow? Or do I create dams to keep me stuck in patterns of the past? Do I fearlessly trust that who I am is enough to flow forward courageously towards whatever waterfall or ocean that awaits me? Do I believe the drop of rain that is the simple uniqueness that is I can create the dreams that reside within? Will the ground embrace me as I fall, exposing my weakness and strengths? What is the alternative, to remain closed off from fears, withholding all my energy, containing and controlling my water to conform out of fear of lack or future pain?

Stagnant water does not beget life. My floods gates are unleashed. I am who I am. Will the collective pool of rain that is society judge my expressions? Perhaps some may, maybe many even, but certainly not all. In fact, some may even feel free, because of my choice to express with freedom.  That is more than enough for me.

There is something to all this mystery and symbolism. The rain. Uniqueness. Emotions. Thoughts. Life. Courage.

Be you. If you aren’t, whoever will be?

Just as I type that, the rain has stopped, there is a part in the sky for some blue sky to peek through… it could be a momentary pause or perhaps the rest of the day will shine with sun.

Take from it what you will…

…. and now I find myself feeling more like a siren on the rocks calling to lonely sailors and wondering if anyone will ever be real – and for me. So I’ve decided to take the rare, unbeaten path of vulnerable truth on my blog. You see, this babe is highly sexual and loves to explore, but I’m also pensive, emotional, full of thoughts, desires, longing, a hope to make some significant difference in this world and the lives of those around me…. and this babe is also loving.

I put in a mix a friend made. It’s mix he made as a cathartic journey of lost love, broken hearts and the strength to find joy in being vulnerable to love, once again. As the songs soaked into my being I found myself in reveries of my own love lost. Torn tales, shattered dreams, disappointments… and swimming in this sea of awareness that the woman I am today is shaped by all these experiences. As painful as love can be, it is also such a beautiful gift, even amongst its sharp blade. It’s up to us if we allow it to wound us forever or if we utilize its intensity to evolve. I’ve learned the most from lessons in love. They’ve been the hardest fought lessons. One’s which sometimes felt I would drown in, yet because of them I know the depth my strength. I walk confident upon my path because of these wounds. There is nothing like being a woman finally embracing your own strength, power and independence…. and realizing you aren’t afraid to be alone. It is liberating. It makes everything in life feel more full. I find contentment in the genuine connections, friendships, romances and sexual romps which float my way. It’s not easy being free of need within relationships, but I also cherish the freedom I have in my life.

These songs… wow, the power of music. It surely takes you somewhere. It’s like a narcotic with its altering affect. And here, as I type and think upon unrequited love, a message comes to me. An email from a lover whom I hadn’t heard from in only a few days, but it is no question it feels like a month. How does so much change in me in but a short few days? This man is not just a lover, he’s a romance, he’s a heart swooner… a moonlight crooner…he’s an enigmatic creature I’d like to unravel, unwind and spin into a golden spool of new sparkling love to weave a warm blanket to keep us both warm on chilly nights.

Amongst pain of the past, strength in the present, I find I still have courage to dream. Really, what do we have if not but our dreams? I could protect myself out of fear of what might never come… or I could choose to playfully roll in the lush green grass before me and await in juicy anticipation of what blossoms may spring forth from beneath it’s soil. Will they be beautiful? Will they be lasting love? Or will it just be this one glorious moment of dreaming…

I will forever keep my capacity to dream.

I feel as if I’m see thru thin apparent… a layer of gauze exposing the nipples of my heart. The water of emotions pours upon me and you can see past the thin veil. Yes, I am a romantic. I long to utilize my creative side to express heated passion and tender softness which brews inside my womanly heart, my moist yoni and emanates like an ambrosial incense from my supple, soft skin. I feel most in my element when I can conjure up my powers of sensuality and intense desire to arouse and seduce a man when I’m in love. Play lovers are fun, experimental, a blast really, but a true love is the best shared orgasm there is. When the fires of passion ignite from genuine respect, deep love and an internal depth which unites you two… that is a powerful moment of ecstasy which reigns supreme over any and all kinky, hedonistically fun desire. Love unleashes a different realm of my sensual self. When I am embraced by a man whom I feel truly loves me, and I him, I am immediately unguarded. The brick walls crumble under the mighty force of his gaze and I am swept into a realm in which I lose myself. I need no narcotic, nothing to free me from inhibitions… but a love before me. A woman with sweeping gestures of romance and deep love is but walking upon a path with hidden gems that explode under her feet bringing rushes of orgasms from the base of her being all the way up to her heavenly dreams.

Love is the ruler of my orgasm.

My heart longs to love again. To be in love, again. To be loved, once again.

There you have it, my friends. This blog it seems shall not just be silly sexual tidbits… it will be a glimpse into the whole of the babe before you… the vulnerable, the sexy and the loving. Perhaps the more authentic and real I am, the greater the journey will be.

Dream Big.

(next time, fantasies fairies and big cock wands?)

My clit gives me different sensations depending on where and how I touch it. I find the sides of my clit enormously sensitive. I can gently stroke up and down one of the sides and instantly start to feel that warm rush and tingling up my spine, and continuing through my body. The intensity and frequency greatly affects it too. It’s not just the same stimulus and I find my mood makes a difference as well. If I’m feeling feisty, I might fantasize of a really aggressive fuck, where I’m dominant and end up working my clit into a frenzy. Other times, light last night, it had been brewing and building all towards the end of the day. I just felt horny and I had endless fantasies popping into my head. I could be doing something mundane, like cleaning, and I’d get this visual of me kissing another woman, her soft skin under my hands and the lushness of her ass… Then my clit would start to pulse and my awareness would be drawn to the fact I was drifting into a sexual reverie. This particular visual we were naked and kissing. I just adore kissing, I could for hours, especially when it’s good. The intimacy and passion it can build is unparalleled. It is truly unique the sensual feeling one gets from kissing another woman. I crave it sometimes, even though I’m not a lesbian. So this fantasy is taking me away from my tasks. Forget trying to focus, by the end of the day I was more than ready to find some release. I wish I had a girl lover to play with last night!

The orgasm was in soft waves and I found my pussy already heightened in stimulus. I really didn’t have to do much to get there either. My pussy was low maintenance last night! I barely had to tap at my clit and just gently stroke my finger down along the outside of my labia before my whole yoni opened and I could easily slip a finger into my juicy insides. I was already warm and moist. I slowly and mildly fingered myself, but found my clit wanted more attention then my g-spot. So I pulled out just focused on really slight, small, gently upwards strokes on my clit. Right in the center this time, then working my way in a half circle up and down the left side. I don’t know what it is about my left side, but it’s my favorite. I love the sensation and I know it’s an instant orgasm. It’s kinda like my fast food of orgasm. I didn’t want to cum to fast however, so I drifted to the right and went back and forth over it. If I know I have the luxury of a long self-love masturbation session, I start really light. I keep myself at just that low threshold so the final climax has a super deep, powerful foundation. Those are the times when I find I can really gush hard.

My mind started to wander into a man sucking my clit and it almost made my yearnings worse. You know when you daydream of something you can’t have at the moment? It’s frustrating! It snow balled into a full on sexual marathon in my mind. This man had a thick cock, and his mouth was heaven. I couldn’t decided if I wanted to kiss him or have him lick me more, so I went back and forth to both in my mind. I fantasized about him plunging his thick hard on into me. That amazing full sensation one gets. I envisioned him really passionate and almost overtaking me. I surrendered to him in my mind. I swear sometimes sex is better in my imagination. Finding the right partner is so fucking hard.

I thought of pulling out my vibrator for a quick big O, but I knew it would be too much sensation and I wanted to just feel relaxed in my pleasure. Instead I pulled out a glass dildo and placed it inside my pussy. I didn’t fuck myself with it, I just wanted to feel full. My pussy was swollen and hot, totally engorged. I think if I really did have a man there fucking me I would’ve had orgasms through the roof over and over.

I kept the dildo in and made circles around my clit until I felt the familiar sensation of excitement and warmth rushing up my spine and a gasp escaped from my part lips. Instead of backing off(which is hard because the feeling is intense and I just want to ease off my pussy), I kept going and the gasp became a moan…. My back arched and my hips wanted to squirm away from my fingers. I kept them on me, ruthlessly seeking a deeper and higher orgasm than ever before… and it happened, I let out sound I have no idea what it must’ve sounded like a half moan, half scream? and my body shook, waves upon waves of amazing orgasms. Pure ecstasy. It brought emotions out of me, as orgasms often can. I laid on my bed holding myself, exhausted, peaceful and with tears.

There is an innate connection between my body and my spirit. Whether I am exercising, dancing or in this case enjoying an orgasm. It is release for me on more than one level. I see it in other people as well. It is always amazing to me how much people speak their body. EVERYONE says something with their bodies, whether they are aware of it or not. Bodies speak so much of a person.

But that is another tangent to write about on another day. For now I leave you with this…

Masturbating to my Babe-gasm

Our pussies really teach us about ourselves. They also give us independence. I am passionate about the importance of a woman having orgasmic independence. I adore sharing my orgasm. I’ve enjoyed it with men and with women, but there is something sacredly special to the intimate experience one has when alone with one’s pussy.

An interesting fact: The Italian anatomist Mateo Renaldo Colombo claimed to have discovered our clits way back in 1559. He called it amor Veneris, vel dulcedo “the love or sweetness of Venus.” How hilarious a man claims to have discovered it. I’m pretty sure a woman had it figured out way before. However, I am completely pleasured by his name for our clits:

“The love or sweetness of Venus.”

Now that is beautiful. How lovely a man would grace our erogenous zone with such a name. He must’ve been a romantic. I wonder if he wrote secret love letters to an unrequited love…

The unrequited love of women with their gateway to venus. I say we need a new era of sexuality. Not the feminist burning bras, but an era of women fully embracing how powerful it is to be a sensual, sexual woman. That includes nurturing ourselves, our orgasms and our men, our girlfriends, and oozing unabashedly and unashamedly our seduction. Like drips of nectar pouring out of our skin and dripping upon the path we walk. Enticing, alluring and empowering.

Ladies, our pussies are OURS. LOVE THEM. ADORE THEM. STROKE THEM. PLEASURE YOURSELF. EACH OTHER.

Men, I love men. Feel free to delve into the great discovering that is uncovering a woman’s deep orgasm from her yoni. As I fully am elated to take my time learning every amazing nuance of yours….

… till next time, cocks hard, pussies wet. Enjoy.

First, I’ll admit I didn’t watch the game. I also haven’t had libations. Yeah. Yeah. Smack my bottom raw for the shame and guilt I should be feeling. I used to be a ballerina and I think to myself, wow, if only the arts had as much support as football. The whole world stops so they can go see the next opening of a new choreographic highlight. Ballet can be sexy, really! Tackle my ballerina booty…

Tackle My Ballet Booty

Anyway, I enjoy watching football, just didn’t today. So, here’s a tidbit, I used to work with football players (does anyone wonder what the Blonde Babe does for a living?). They were hilarious how they’d joke with me. They were also frankly, fucking huge. Their deltoids alone were massive. They are like jungle gyms I could climb all over. Actually, I’ve never sexually tackled a football player (ads that to the to-do list), but I’ll admit it could be a fun fantasy. I can’t help but imagine what such a strong athlete could do. It’s enticing to consider being physical with a man who spends his whole existence conditioning his body. You’d know he’d have the stamina, but would he have the intrigue? I have to have someone intelligent to be interested, regardless of physique.

That said, he’d be so strong he could throw you around any which way, spin you around his cock till you were seeing orgasms. I could do all those out there kamasutra moves you only get to try on rare occasions. Like being upside down while he’s standing eating me out and I’m sucking his cock. Or even just riding him while he’s standing would be rockin’. These things are not always easy for a woman like me, considering I’m 5′ 10″. I’ve done it before, but I’m always afraid ‘m going to knock the guy over. Can you imagine? A cock in my mouth and I take us barreling to the ground, tumbling over like a falling tower praying he doesn’t knock his teeth out against my pelvis?

I have been on my hands in a handstand, with the guy holding my ass, my legs spread in the splitz while he’s penetrating down into me and he was pushing so hard my arms were collapsing, but I didn’t want to say anything because it felt so good… and then I slipped and we both collapsed in a heap. It was hilarious. We both laughed. Laughing in sex in moments like that is the best. I rode the hell out of him right after. I aggressively turned him onto his back, climbed on top and you’d think I was a pro bull rider the way I let loose my pelvis on him. I was sweating from the intensity and orgasms were rolling up my spine. I kept telling him not to cum since my orgasms were rolling one after the other, until I could see he was about to lose his mind, I stopped and said, “Okay, fuck me however the fuck you want”. He bent me over and went wild on me in doggie style until he came on my face. There is nothing like getting a man right to that brink and seeing him get animalistic on you. It’s an enormous turn on for me.

I’m getting off track again. Damn my deviant mind! Back to the football theme. What is the obsession with cheerleaders? That they are fit and flexible? Frankly, I find them way too cheery. Who the hell is that ridiculously happy all the time? And why do they have to be so loud and talk about lip gloss all the time? I’ve never had pleasant encounters with cheerleaders unfortunately, so maybe I’m jaded. They’d either be rude to my face or they’d be as sweet as sugar that you knew was poisoned. I’m sure there are fantastic women who are cheerleaders. I just haven’t met them yet. I’ be more than happy if some sexy, fit cheerleader found it necessary to enlighten me. Really, I wouldn’t mind. Convince me your the cats meow ladies. Personally, I like feisty, powerful women who have unique pathways in life. Then the passion is dynamic and deep. It makes for delicious, creative sexual adventures. And yes, you’ll hear about them, right here.

Right now though, I feel like just sitting and masturbating. I’m pulsing, wet and needing a release! I can go for hours when I get like this. There are times when my body flat out demands it, and this is one of them. It’s an argument I’d never win, since it’s been far to long since I’ve enjoyed sex with a man (or a woman for that matter). And really, why should I argue with my need for the sustenance of orgasm? Now that would be insanity. Do you know that back in the day they used to treat women for “hysteria” by manually finger fucking them? Oh my could that ever a long post in and of itself. I need to start keeping a list of what I want to share. It’s endless!

I’m off for my important masurb-date. I think I can outlast the energizer bunny but I’ve got fresh batteries, and you know what? I’m pretty sure this rabbit vibrator is going to put out for me…

Blonde Babe in Her Boat

This walrus really made me ponder this whole boat, man and rocking thing. I am not a woman who is unfamiliar with the female anatomy. I’ve spent plenty of time investigating the wonderful nuances of mine and a fleet of boats. Yet still, I was confused. I mean, why is it typically called the man in the boat? Must it be masculine? Should it not be a woman in the boat if it’s my clitoris? My clit is not masculine. Sure, it gets erect, engorged with blood… but is it my hypothetical cock? I think it’s the gateway to my womanhood. Into a realm of pleasure that when a woman is fully in there is no denying her sexual allure. It’s is purely, beautiful, erotic femininity. It can make me loud, wild, heated, passionate, wet, titillated and uninhibited. Now that is some power. Just turn that little button on and a woman’s mind, body and soul can be freed. It is an intrinsic ingredient in the perfect mix which takes me from rational mind to a threshold of pure sensation, wild passion and ultimate release.

I love my clitoris. My clit. My lovely, beautiful, sexy, full of feeling clit. Every woman should have clit pride.

However, the clitoris does unify us with men. Let’s discuss dick for a brief second. And trust me that’s hard(pun so intended) for me because I really love men and their fantastical dicks. Phew. I get a bit charged just typing that. In fact there will be many posts to come about my absolute passion for the male anatomy. But, back on track.. the penis develops from the same mass of tissue as the clitoris in the embryo. It’s like the physical metaphorical unification when a dick is rubbed against a clit. Dicks and clits are nerve twins.

It blows my mind when I hear a woman doesn’t like oral pleasure? Are there many men who don’t like their cock sucked? I’d bet we’d be hard pressed to find them. Although I did meet one man who said he didn’t enjoy blowjobs. Naturally, I took that as a challenge as I looked at him totally dumfounded. “What?!”, says the Blonde Babe. “That’s devastating! I love to suck cock and I take pride in it dammit! Get your cock over here and you will enjoy it!”. But seriously. Why would so many women not enjoy receiving oral sex? A few things come to mind: embarrassment, lack of connection to their orgasm, emotional turbulence with their partner, insecurity, lack of self worth, fear, society brainwashing. Women, pleasure yourself and be pleasured. It’s your body, it’s your orgasm. Yours alone. Or shared. But it’s YOURS.

This all of course doesn’t just relate to a woman’s clit. It’s applies to the whole shebang. As in she-bangs-herself-to-orgasm. How is it women can go their whole lives and never really have a full orgasm? I absolutely am going to passionately write post after post of detailed erotic releases I enjoy until it tantalizes you to explore your own. This is just the start.

Personally, I couldn’t live a fulfilled life without my waves of multiple orgasms. It’s a part of my living, breathing existence. All this talk of my clit, it’s practically screaming at me for attention. This is the Blonde Babe, signing out to go enjoy an explosive series of toe curling orgasms with my woman in my boat: MY PROUD CLITORIS.

Anyway, I’m getting off topic(which will probably happen a lot here, be forewarned)… onto the festivities and formalities! Should I wear my stars and stripes bikini? Get my orgasmic firecracker off? Purchase a hot new toy to commemorate BBB(Blonde Babe Blog)? This is my official inauguration into Babedom of Blondonia in Blogland. From here on out, I’m dedicating my every waking moment and sleeping dream to expressing my authentic silly, serious, sexy self, right here, for you. (That is a possible exaggeration).

It is auspicious to hurl myself into this new outlet of expression on today, the epic inauguration of Obama as our President. Regardless of what your views may be politically, it is indisputable that this is a moment in our history that will never be forgotten. We have changed as a country and a world. A little over 40 years ago we had slavery. It is profound that We The People, as a collective voice, have chosen and spoken of evolution and a new perspective. I don’t see Obama as our messiah, he is a man amongst us, which makes it all the more real. I also don’t have pie eyed dreams of dramatic change and I know there are challenges ahead for our country. But this is what I do see….

I see him as an example of hope and inspiration amongst great challenge. This is a man who had no one before him to follow. He forged a new path and against many odds. He triumphed in achieving what was believed impossible by generations of minorities. He has broken barriers and now paved the way. It’s a phenomenal lesson of courage, believing in yourself, persevering and overcoming obstacles and naysayers… what a profound example for us all to have as our President! This is huge. And at such a time when we all need a leader, hope and inspiration.

On some small, humble level, it is the same for me here. There is no one paving the way, telling me how to create my life and I typically choose the path less worn. It’s never been easy to be so far off the mold of a stereotypical life and it takes strength. I’ve never been handed anything and I’ve often, really almost always, had challenges. It’s the same for all of us in some way, right? Personally, once I have a vision, I passionately strive towards it… but how easy it is to doubt when there are always detractors or obstacles. Can you imagine if Obama just said, “It’s never been done. I’m not known. My name. I’m black. I can’t do it.”? All the excuses and fears in our minds keep us from our dreams. You have to have the drive, the passion, the determination to believe, even when it might not seem possible to succeed.

Thus, here I am, typing this out for whomever in the world may read it. This whole online world is going to be a wild ride for me. I’m not sure where it will lead. Like Mr. Toad’s at Disneyland, but after shots of Don Julio tequila and Alice is talking dirty. Will my Toad be a Prince if I kiss him? Or will I just get horrid warts and vomit after the teacup ride? Will Alice let me under her cute sexy blue dress? Was her rabbit metaphorical for her fav toy? Time will tell… and you will witness it all, right here.

My "Girl Next Door Look"

Okay, my first post on my spanking new blog! Hi everyone! I’ve needed an outlet of expression for awhile now. I like to write, I always have tons of experiences to share, I’m sexually very charged and it’s a trip to think of having witnesses to it all… it’s voyeurism on a whole new level and I’m a bit of an exhibitionist! A blog is the perfect answer for me, it really is. I think this is going to be a blast. I have so much I look forwarding to sharing.

To start, I was urged by my good friend Kevin to post this photo. He calls it my,  “Girl Next Door” look. It’s one of his favorites and during a very awkward moment that will remain just between us friends, he basically begged me, insisting it was worthy of my first post. (there might have been mojitos involved). Don’t tell him because how cool is it to have a guy beg you for something, but he actually didn’t have to. He’s such a good friend I’d do anything for that guy. Anything you say? Well, within reason. Luckily my reasoning is totally faulty. Anyway, what do you think of the photo?

Truth be told, this girl next door disguised as a blonde babe, has always lead a fairly out there life. I’ve never been able to fit myself into the typical path. I think the juicy part of life is in breaking molds, being daringly true to yourself and following your deepest passions. It makes life full of the unknown, and that is often the best part of the adventure I say!

What will I be sharing with you all here? In a nutshell: Me. The blonde babe. But this blonde babe has a wide and vast range of interests. There are so many nuances to my life and things I adore I don’t even know where to start. You will see me in all my many facets. I’m prone to philosophical ramblings, erotic dreamy drifts, puns… fuck do puns get me off… see, I’m already turned on… words are hot. Learn the power of the mind and I’m telling you, you know how to seduce. I love, love, one more time: I LOVE to seduce. My sexuality is a huge part of me. So is fitness. I love working out, sweating, feeling release through my body in any capacity. It’s enormously cathartic for me and if I don’t have it consistently, I really feel pent up(same goes for sex, and more on that later). I used to be a professional ballerina, so naturally art is huge in my life too. I’m a major yoga junkie. You’ll see bits of me out with my friends and sexy girlfriends, dancing, or maybe hiking, rock climbing, at the ocean. Blonde babe in a bikini photos? Sounds reasonable to me, but then again, I already mentioned my questionable reasoning above.

So let’s see… the condensed version… we have: ramblings, sexy real life stories, erotic dreams, puns, seduction, sexuality, physicality, sweating, release, body, ballet, art, sexy friends, nude in nature, bikinis and travel…  all with words, photos and even video. I think we are off to a roaring, spanking start!

On the topic of spankings. Here’s the minor detail. You have to subscribe to my rss feed,  so I don’t have to dish out any. Please, or your bare ass gets pink. Otherwise I have to put on my latex thigh highs and they take so long to lace up. It’s such a bother. I’ll be all annoyed and have to pull out my riding crop… and you see how complicated and messy this could get? Really, don’t make me do it. It’s simple, subscribe now to join me in my luscious adventures. You, me and your cheeks will be glad you did