Nature-Inspired Sexy

Tasting Autumn

Posted by on Sep 10, 2014

The other day I was sitting in meditation on my deck and when I opened my eyes the meadow in front of me was so green that I felt like I’d been fast forwarded into spring. It’s been the most luscious summer I can remember here in the Rocky Mountains. Our big-snow winter morphed into a cool rainy spring that came and went all summer and never really left. As I flowed into my yoga practice under clouds heavy with rain, it seemed like the surrounding aspen leaves aren’t turning yellow this year. They are just begrudgingly giving up their green.       But there is no stopping Her. As as each day gets a little darker, the leaves get a little lighter,the yellow of the diminishing sun taking residence in the leaves. As I flowed into cobra pose and inhaled long and deep, the scent was undeniable Autumn, so pungent and wet, like a woman at the height of arousal.  As warm raindrops landed on my yoga mat, I lifted my face to the sky and opened my mouth, eager to catch one on my tongue. Eager to taste her. Sexy Prod: What is your favorite way to taste autumn? Biting into a juicy Honeycrisp apple? Getting lost in  a corn maize with your lover? Rolling in a pile of raked leaves?  I really want to...

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Posted by on Aug 1, 2014

I don’t know what it is with me and aspen trees. Wait, that’s not entirely true.  I’ve explored my fascination with them before in this post. But I thought my obsession was just a winter thing, when they are so stunningly stark, like those twenty-something women who are even more lovely if you get lucky enough to catch them without eye makeup. So I was a bit surprised when I found myself in the middle of July pulling out of an uphill climb on my mountain bike because I was rendered breathless by a stand of aspen.   I wonder sometimes if it’s just a game for them, seeing which humans they can seduce from the trail. All I know it that I’m a willing pawn. I pull off my one of my biking gloves and show my hand, placing it reverently on the closest trunk. As my breathing and heart rate slow, I feel my feet rooting into the earth and I have this epiphany that by touching one of these trees I am touching the entire clone since a stand of aspen is really one big organism. The dappled sunlight filtering through the leafy canopy pulses through my every cell and I have one of those full-body sensory orgasms that I write about in this blog and suddenly I can’t see the forest for I am the trees.          ...

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Wild White Lace

Posted by on Jun 13, 2014

The snow has melted here at 9,000 feet in the Colorado Rockies. But the earth is still white.   I’m trying to learn my wildflowers this year.  Deepen my intimacy of Her.  I imagine she enjoys the attention (most women do) when someone notices the more subtle aspects of her beauty. She’s showing her demure side right now, reminding me of a virginal bride with all the varieties of white wildflowers that are appearing, looking from a distance like so much white lace. I didn’t wear white for my wedding.  With my fair skin and light hair, it doesn’t do much for me.  Besides, I was thirty-nine.  An erotica writer.  The virginal bride thing just wasn’t my gig. I found a sage-green lace dress at a lingerie store. But as I hike around my cabin this spring, there is no doubting that the white-lace look is incredibly beautiful, arresting in its subtlety and simplicity .   I have a white lace bustier that I picked up at a women’s clothes exchange party a few years ago. It tends to get lodged at the back of my lingerie drawer behind all the black. My kayaker will be home in two days from a tryst with the river. I just might have to pull it out. Sexy Prod: What makes you feel wild at heart? White Lace? Black?  Running naked through a field of wildflowers? I’d really like to know.  ...

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Sexy Owl Moment #2

Posted by on Jun 3, 2014

Wildness is incredibly sexy to me. I married a whitewater kayaker.  I live at 8,000 feet where there are more elk than people. And I blog about Sexy Owl Moments. I’ve seen a few owls  in that same stretch of river that inspired my first sexy owl post. but they always see me first. All I’ve caught is a retreating wingspan floating over the river.  No full body sensory orgasmic moments.  Nothing worth blogging about. But a few weeks ago I got lucky. My hiking buddies, a pitbull and two labs, were hugging the river banks while I navigated the nearby game trail. I paused to feel the rising sun on my face and take in their four-legged agility and contagious joy as they bashed through a tangle of willows. I wasn’t the only one watching. The small great horned owl was so busy keeping an eye on the dogs that he didn’t notice me standing less than fifteen feet away. He must have sensed my elevated heart rate or heard my small gasp when I realized he wasn’t just a thick cluster of willow branches, because as soon as my brain registered Owl, he turned his head my way. My body swayed like seaweed on the ocean floor as I tried to get a better glimpse of him through the branches and he was doing the same and there was a second, one sexy second, where our eyes~wide, searching and alert~ met. The flash of his wild, yellow irises seared into the blue of mine and I felt his fire burn all the way to my toes and my god I live for moments like that. Sexy prod:  How about you? Any sexy wild encounters to...

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Autumnal Foreplay

Posted by on Oct 3, 2013

    I’ve mentioned before that I’m winter sexy. So when the aspen start doing this:   And the peaks get dusted like this: I know I’m in for a few weeks of foreplay. Because as soon as the first hard frost hits (last week for me), the hot sun, bugs and pollen get turned off. And I get so turned on. I get turned on by the darker mornings when I can luxuriate in my yoga practice for over an hour and still catch the sunrise when I go out for a run. I get turned on by the sight of our freezer stuffed with packages of fresh elk. (If you’ve been reading this blog you already now about the sexiness of elk meat.) I get turned on by the sound of a bull elk bugling at dawn, knowing that the tag is filled and I’m the only one in my hunter’s sights. I get turned on by the heavy fragrance of pine filling my head as we fill the back of the truck with firewood. I get turned on by a glass of red wine, warm on my lips, as the setting sun spews pink lava all over the sky. I get turned on by the menthol-like sensation of a twilight breeze on my back as I float above my man in the hot tub. I get so turned on by the sound of the aspen leaves quaking like rice paper castinettes that I have to lie flat on the earth and absorb it.  One windy day and that sexy percussive will be gone until next spring. I could go on and on but I think you may be coming to the same conclusion as me. Maybe I’m autumn sexy too. Sexy Prod: What’s turning you on this...

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