Road Trip with My Bestie

Real life has kept me busy lately, which is cool, but also not cool. If I wasn’t so busy, I might be posting about some sexy encounters instead of letting this blog sit here quietly waiting for me to get back.

Well, I’m back and I’ve got some news for you!

My bestie has been invited to a fancy schmancy soiree in Tennessee next week and she’s invited me along for the ride. That sounds to me like an excellent opportunity for me to get out and get to know Memphis. While I’m at it, might as well throw Texarkana and Little Rock into the mix, too! Don’t you agree?

The Plan:

I’ll be hitting the road with my gal-pal on Monday morning, taking a break at around noon in Texarkana. If the mood is right, we’ll stay the night and see what happens.

If the lure of Little Rock is strong, we’ll set out for the capital by early evening and stay until Thursday morning then head to Memphis.

I’ll be looking for something to keep me busy until party time on Friday. I may even be up for a little hanky-panky Saturday morning…

Then back to Little Rock for a couple of days lounging around and seeing what happens.

We should get back to Dallas on Tuesday by way of Texarkana and one last night of adventure Monday.

Are You In?

If you’re in any of these target cities (or somewhere along the way) and want to meet, let me know!! I’ve just updated my screening form to suit a week-long road trip, so get over to my hotprovider site and fill out my form. You can check my tentative itinerary there, too.

My mind is already stirring up images of one sexy encounter after another: two sexy women on a road trip, stranded roadside with a flat and no jack, just waiting for someone to rescue them; falling into a game of secretly exposing myself to a male guest of the hotel where I’m staying then realizing his guest room is connected to my own; playing a childish game of truth or dare with my girlfriend and a guy she met at the hotel bar that just gets started when he dares the two of us to demonstrate our favorite sex toys on each other…

I really am getting horny already and the trip is almost a week away! I can hardly wait to hit the road! This is going to be just the type of erotic vacation that good little sluts like me deserve now and then! Don’t forget that I don’t get out and about for this kind of fun very often, so don’t miss your chance to become a featured character in my next sexy story post!!

~sweetness~

PS: Don’t forget to screen!

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#1 Worst Screening Tactic: Say You Shouldn’t Have To Do It

 
If you think you are too big, important, well-known, famous, high-profile or special to submit five pieces of information to my screening process, you are sadly mistaken. If you think you have more to lose than I do, you might be a moron.

As happens, I receive a private message from a member of a well-known forum. His six-word message informed me that he wants an outcall approximately an hour an 15 minutes from my home. I directed him to the standard form every single person I have seen in the past few years has completed prior to booking with me.

This was his response:

I’m sorry but I don’t think I should have to go through a screening process with 50 plus reviews if I had issues of any type I think it would be obvious by now

You would expect a guy to know how it works after 50 reviews. Do the providers he sees not screen? His statement makes references from any of the girls he’s reviewed useless and my screening form even more necessary than ever. I didn’t even mention that in my painfully long reply.

I apologize for the long reply…

With all due respect, I understand that you have established your position as a participating member of this social system. I respect that you have invested time and energy into writing reviews that not only secure your access to privileged areas of the the board, but also inform your contemporaries while promoting the services of your counterparts. Thank you for your valuable contribution.

That said, I don’t screen by reviews which, in my experience are primarily presented fanciful depictions that may have a great deal of value in the process of evaluating the performance of a service provider, but of little use in the evaluation of her client. Without knowing both sides (or the details) of the story, reviews show me activities a reviewer enjoys, but that’s about it.

Imagine applying for a credit card and telling the issuing agency that they don’t need to know anything about you other than the perks offered by the other cards in your wallet or how much you enjoy the things you buy. Consider applying for a mortgage and only divulging the amenities of your current and past homes. Has anyone ever been granted a car loan by giving a dealer a map of all the places they’ve ever driven?

The comparisons sound ridiculous, I know. The amount of information required for any of the above situations can be staggering and invasive, although the acquisitions are cold, unfeeling, material constructs that will remain unaffected by the consumer’s care and handling of them.

Warm, compassionate, accommodating service providers are never unaffected by the consumers they serve. For better or worse, every client leaves a mark.

The personal information I require (name, age, city of residence, contact email, non-forwarding phone number) in order to process screening is simple and non-invasive. I used to demand far more than I do now. I assure you that I have screened infinitely more individuals than you have reviewed. If my process or handling of personal information “had issues of any type I think it would be obvious by now.”

I believe it’s fair to say that any provider you see can anticipate your expectation of any (or all) of the following: lfk, dfk, bls, bbbj, tuma, mish, Russian, fia, fiv, daty, dato, cim, doggie, msog, Greek, ff, tit sucking, ball sucking, dt. By comparison, the five items through which I screen seem even less invasive than they first appear.

Having said all of this, I have to agree with your message. You’re absolutely correct in saying you shouldn’t have to go through the screening process. I’m sure lots of girls are less selective, less cautious and more willing to allow other people to make their decisions regarding their clientele. I’m sure you will continue to enjoy a fulfilling hobby with those girls.

Those of you who understand are so appreciated. Thanks for making it easy to serve you.

~sweetness~

In My Inbox

I recently exchanged a few short-but-sweet messages with an old friend after we failed to hook up at an adult book store near my stomping grounds. The conversation grew slowly, each of us responding only when we could steal a moment from our busy days to quickly read and reply. The pace of the exchange, for me, did nothing to diminish the level of intimacy and eroticism expressed. I couldn’t help but ask if I could share the conversation with you here. I’m glad he said yes.

(Key: What he wrote. My responses.)

Happy New Year !

Thought about you recently during a session at an adult bookstore….

Do you still reside near […]? Last time we spoke I was of the opinion you had moved to this area.

Please advise. It would be fun to hit the New Fine Arts on […] for a tryst….

Best to you

Yes, I am very close to that NFA. Yes, I think it would be fun to get it on in one of their rooms. When do you wanna do that?
I was so horned up yesterday and that was what I had in mind.

Apologies for not giving you more time.

Happy New Year to you . Please be safe.

What a shame… keep me in mind next time!! Okay, hon?
Will do! And thank you for your response… I always enjoyed your company. You are a very good girl!
You sure know how to say the right thing!
I love the way you respond to my good little girls to you. I like what a dirty little girl you are, and I sooo appreciate that….
And I appreciate that you know filthy little sluts like me deserve positive affirmations, too.
I think it takes one to know one. Oh, how I do appreciate everything you are, and accept you, gratefully, for that..

I only wish I had what you have in the search for that fulfillment….

You are a Queen, A Goddess. So pretty, talented, and filthy. All very combinations for a good girl…

And hoping I’m not bothering you…. Is there something particularly filthy you might like to do?

Please comment.

Babe, you know me & what I like. I’m filthy, but oh, so simple… can’t we just go to the adult video store and fuck? Maybe they’ll have some toy you won’t be able to resist and you can use it to bring me to convulsions, lubed with your saliva, stretched by a buzzing silicone cock before you shower me in hot spunk. I know it’s as vanilla as smoking cigarettes, but I love that stuff like I love sucking your cock with your fingers inside me.
You know, you are correct. As a pervert / slut / man whore myself, I tend to overthink situations such as this, in order to maximize the nastiness. Additionally, since I do have ED issues (as you might recall), I volleyed my question to you hoping you might reveal a deeper depravity I am unaware of. As I discovered in the past, you are bit more of an onion than I had first imagined. Meaning: I was delighted to find you enjoyed the ABS scene as much as I do, but perhaps intimidated in broaching it…. Your sluttiness has been slowly uncovered, and I love it….

You are a fine slut, and it takes one to know one. You are very pretty, sexy, crave-inducing, multitalented, clit possessing, little fuck toy. I appreciate that, in more ways than you might imagine. A Queen of cunt, a Mistress of Depravity, a wonderfully beautiful woman, A little baby nasty girl who needs to be put in her place, a life support system for a vagina, an elite hose queen. I mean this in the most positive, affirmative manner possible.

Adoringly…..

It really turns me on to know that someone thinks of me as he thinks of me. Tell me what you think of me in the comments.

Another Point of View (Pt. 1)

A sexy surprise in my inbox


The friends I make in The Hobby never cease to amaze me in wonderful ways. Last week I opened my email to find a very sexy surprise from one of my newer friends: his fantasy in writing and I’m sure I recognize the players. He tells me that this is part one of two. Part one was such a turn on that I asked him if I can share it with you and he said yes, but only if I don’t divulge his identity.

I didn’t know what to call the story which was delivered without a title, but I think the one I settled on is fitting. I hope you like this one as much as I did; I’ve read it a couple of times a day ever since I received it.

Please comment to let me know if you think it’s as hot as I think it is. Don’t forget a little encouragement for the author to finish Part Two!

Enjoy!


Another Point of View

He was so nervous the first time, not knowing what would await him on the other side of the door.  This time, he walked up to it with a strut in his step.  Last time, that first time, she had made him feel incredible.  A pleasure that words could hardly describe were brought unto him, as she knelt before him, her lips wrapped around his cock, relentlessly bringing it into her body until he could take no more and exploded across her tongue.  This time, now aware of what she can do, he knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was her.

He knocks, awaiting with a steeled excitement coursing through him.  The taboo nature of what they were about to do was electrifying, their little secret.  She opened the door, coy and quiet, but beautiful as ever as she greeted him with a smile and with her angelic voice, she escorted him to her bedroom.

There are no pretenses this time, as both parties are well aware of the actions they are about to engage in.  It’s almost as if they both know what the other wants, because without saying a word, she closes the door, and find themselves kissing deeply even before the last click can make itself audible over the sound of their warm tongues crashing against one another.  He wants her, and she can feel how much as the bulge in his pants presses firmly against her warm skin.  She was ready for him, wearing nothing but a button up shirt and stockings, knowing that the simple, but sexy, look would drive him wild.

He can remember their first visit vividly: the way she dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, keeping her eyes locked on his while her tongue traced its way around his cock, her hands working the shaft so expertly that the only thing he could do was let his eyes roll into the back of his head as absolutely and complete pleasure filled his body.  It was an indescribable pleasure, an addicting form of pleasure.  He tried to fight the urge so hard, knowing that it was intolerable and so dirty and wrong in his position, but he couldn’t fight it forever.  He had to have it again, the hunger of the desire becoming overwhelming, leading him back into her arms.

As their kissing begins to increase in intensity, his hands find her ass and squeeze it as he pulls her tightly into his body.  She can feel his cock, full of blood now, at it’s hardest while she works her hands on his zipper, trying to free it and let it rampage through her body.

He feels her warm fingers wrap around him firmly, her hands so soft and smooth, expertly working their way up and down his shaft.  Pre-cum begins to leak out of him as the anticipation grows, and she makes sure to collect it between her fingers and smear his cock with it, sending the subtle signal that she wants to taste his cum on him, have it in her mouth again.  It’s been so long, so many others since their initial encounter, but right here in this moment she wants no one else more, she wants nothing else more than to re-introduce her mouth to his cock and taste him once more.  She breaks off their kiss and goes down to her knees, a very familiar position for the both of them, and she fluidly takes him into his mouth as if she was born to do this.  So natural, so effortlessly she’s able to bring him down with a well placed kiss and a timely lick, that he stands above her in awe.  Some might see this as a degrading act, but she knows the power she wields over him and he is very well aware of the control she has over him as she moves her head back and forth, allowing his cock to push past her tightly pressed lips, her tongue swirling and licking, pressing firmly on that sensitive bundle of nerves right beneath the head before it twists its way across the taught and responsive head of his cock, her hands covered in spit as she works his shaft up and down.


She breaks off their kiss and goes down to her knees, a very familiar position for the both of them, and she fluidly takes him into his mouth as if she was born to do this.


She moans and takes his cock deep down her throat, gagging gently, but hungrily taking him into her mouth.  Watching her fills him with a powerful, carnal feeling.  He can’t control himself when he reaches down and grabs her by the back of her head, pushing his cock deeper down her throat than she was able to take it on her own, holding it there, enjoying every moment of having her warmth surround him before pulling out so she can make some attempt to return to a status of equilibrium before pushing his cock back down her throat.  The feeling of pleasure is too addictive to resist, as he continues to plunge his cock into her mouth, touching the back of her throat with the head, his testicles full of hot, sticky cum swaying and ramming into her face with each thrust.  She continues to moan on his cock, her saliva slicked fingers unbuttoning her shirt so her beautiful breasts fall free, nipples hard and she gives them a quick squeeze and submits to his desire, opening her mouth wide, fighting back the water welling in her eyes while he continues to shove his cock in and out of her mouth.  She too is beginning to lose control, reaching down with her dominant hand to rub her clit, surprised by how wet she’s become, moaning deeply when her fingers make contact and send that electric feeling through her body.


[…] she knows just how to finish him off in a way that he will never forget, that all other women after her will be measured against, and each one of them will fail in comparison.


He can’t control himself any longer, despite his attempts to pace himself, and can feel his climax coming on strong.  It’s so early, he’s mildly concerned that he is putting jeopardy the rest of their time together, but he can’t help it, he has to feel the release, he has to continue using her body to reach his climax as every fiber of his body is desperate for it.  She can sense he is close, his cock feeling a little thicker, a little harder in her mouth as it begins to swell as he approaches orgasm.  She knows this feeling very well, having brought many men to their knees with mind altering orgasms, and she knows just how to finish him off in a way that he will never forget, that all other women after her will be measured against, and each one of them will fail in comparison.

As orgasm begins to take over his body, she pulls his cock of her mouth and strokes aggressively, her mouth wide open, tongue out, ready to accept his warm, sticky cum all over her face and tongue.  He looks down and sees her, amazed by how sexual this woman is.  She knows things that most women would never dream of, and he realizes how incredible this moment is.  His cock explodes and he can feel his entire body shaking, thick strings of cum shooting from the tip of his cock, landing on her face, her tongue, in parts of her hair and she continues to stroke his cock relentlessly.  She feels the warmth land on her face, coating her tongue, and she knows that she has him, but what she has in mind next he could only ever imagine happening, as the flow begins to ebb and she takes him back in her mouth to suck out the rest and join the salty mess she already has in her mouth.  Once she’s satisfied that she has it all she tilts her head back, mouth still full of cum, hand still stroking his cock and begins to gargle his cum, letting it hit the back of her throat before she makes it bubble in her mouth.  He is so turned on by this, there aren’t words to describe his thoughts.  Awe and a look of amazement are obvious in his expression as he watches her continue to gargle his cum, her face still plastered, her hand still stroking his cock.  this goes on for some time, less than a minute but long enough to send the point home and etch it into his memory forever, before she finally swallows it a smile graces her face.  She knows that he will remember her always after that little display, and the act of becoming a permanent piece of his history thrills her.


She knows that he will remember her always after that little display, and the act of becoming a permanent piece of his history thrills her.


She tells him that she’s going to go clean up and bring him something to do the same, but she has no idea what she’s started.  She’s awakened something in him within the last few moments that make him desire her more than he thought possible.  His cum on her face, her willingness to accept him into her body, taste him, coat her tongue and face with him, he has to have her now and as soon as she stands up, he tosses her on the bed and pulls down her panties.  His cock is still hard, surging with energy, blood and a longing to be inside of her.  As much as he wishes he could be inside of her now, they’re both still cognizant of the fact that there is a code and procedure to their relationship, and she silently points to the condoms on the night stand.  After he’s put on one, he works his way between her legs, their eyes meeting, her face still glistening with cum, and he pushes himself deep inside her.  Now it’s time for her to experience the animal she’s woken…

Holiday Stranger

Photo: my lipstick by (model) priscilla world

The shopping center was teeming with holiday shoppers as I scanned the food court for a place to sit and enjoy my reward for finally finishing my own gifting list, peppermint ice cream, my favorite. Finding a place to sit appeared to be a lost cause and I decided to head home. As I turned toward the exit a man stood up from one of the tables near where I was standing. Thinking that I would take his place, I waited, but he was waiting, too.

The first thing I noticed about him was his stature, not that he was a giant of a man, but as he rose into his height, his shoulders squared to the floor and I could tell, even with his back to me that his chest was raised before him. His posture reminded me of the stance football captains take when they meet their opponents for the coin toss at the beginning of a game, only instead of holding a helmet under his arm, he held a large bag of Christmas gifts.

A woman rushed over to him, urging him to sit back down with a wave of her hand. He hesitated then complied, slumping to the chair like the athlete slumping to the bench after a disappointing play. The woman, oblivious to the shift in his presentation, quickly deposited another large bag of gifts at his feet while waving a credit card at him, clearly demanding another card. The man shrugged his shoulders as he reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a wallet and from the wallet another card. The woman smiled for the first time, slipped the card into her hip pocket then freed herself of both her coat and her purse, depositing both of them in the man’s lap. She spun on her heel and disappeared into the throng as he looked around, obviously perturbed at the notion that he had been reduced to the position of purse-keeper. That’s when our eyes met.

He looked past me at first, but came back to me quickly as he realized he was being watched. I blushed, guilty for intruding on his predicament as his woman’s attendant, glanced into my pink and green frozen treat then looked back at him and discovered his eyes still on me. I smiled and intensity grew in his gaze. My cheeks warmed as I blushed to even deeper shades.

The stream of shoppers between us made it seem like I was watching him in stop-motion, like claymation, but our eyes remained locked until a hurried woman passed by too close to me to avoid dragging her exhausted child into me. I almost dropped my ice cream on the child in the collision, but quickly apologized to the back of the woman who never even slowed down as she pushed her way through the crowd. Looking for a safer place to stand I noticed the entrance to the long hallway which leads to the restrooms only a few feet away. I looked back to the man, excited to see that I still held his attention. That’s when I knew that I wanted him to have me.

I took a few side steps toward the hallway then discretely pointed toward the little plaque with the man/woman symbols on it that was on the wall behind me. He looked puzzled at first, but when he recognized the invitation a grin broke across his lips. Suddenly he seemed less like an athlete than a wolf with an eye on his prey. My hands trembled at the idea of him pursuing me down the hall, at the idea of him catching me, at the idea of him releasing his cock from his pants and sliding it through my lips and across my tongue.

I lingered at the entrance to the hallway as he rose again, this time burdened with the woman’s possessions and an additional shopping bag. No longer embarrassed, he slung the purse, then the woman’s coat over his shoulder and hefted the bags of gifts before stalking through the flow of people. My heart raced and I turned toward the stark passage, following a pair of teenage girls past the back entrances of the pizzeria and the Chick-fil-a. I kept a purposeful gate down the hallway, but when the girls pushed through the door marked “women” I hesitated before dodging a woman pushing a stroller coming out the same door. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that the man had almost overtaken me. Again I hesitated, then I moved quickly to the next door, marked “men,” and pushed through.

I rushed past the urinals grateful that the one man in the public restroom didn’t notice the sound of my pumps before I had ducked into the very last stall. I listened for the man following me, but I didn’t hear him approach the door as the sound of flushing water echoed off the tiles. I stepped away from the door as it was pushed open, suddenly questioning my own judgement, suddenly a little scared, suddenly keenly aware that I didn’t care what this strange man had in store for me as long as his intention included giving me his cock. When his eyes again locked with mine I felt confident that he intended to satisfy that need.

The stall was crowded despite being designed to accommodate a person burdened by shopping bags, but we were not a person, we were two. To make room for him to close the stall door, I stepped back, straddling the toilet as he turned the latch on the door. As he turned back to me I raised the hem of my skirt to my hips and sank down onto the seat beneath me. I watched his pants swell and felt my pussy drench my panties as we both took in the vulgarity of my position. My fingers slid into my panties as he unzipped his slacks and hefted his growing cock from its prison. Already feeling the intensity of my arousal as my fingers circled my clit, my desire for his manhood overtook my fear and couldn’t take my eyes off of it. I couldn’t even look into his face when I managed to whisper a single word… “please.”

He stepped up close to me, his feet straddling the bowl alongside my own. Without ceremony his cock pushed into my mouth, then my throat, gagging me. The cup of ice cream fell from my hand even as I felt what I had eaten rise in my throat. The cold ice cream was a shock to him and he groaned but didn’t release the pressure of his hand on the back of my head. I forced myself to swallow the ice cream for the second time as he eases himself back just a bit before rocking in and out of my mouth, every few strokes testing my gag reflex, gagging me every time, causing my eyes to water and mascara to run onto my cheeks. After several minutes he finally spoke to me, but over the sound of my struggle to accommodate his cock, all I could make out were two words… “gonna……cum” and he pushed into me again, gagging me more than he had before and this time I tasted the ice cream for the second time as it spilled past his hard dick and over my lips. I drooled creamy peppermint into the toilet bowl.

Then he pulled out of my mouth so suddenly that I almost fell over, gasping for air. He started to stroke himself off and the first spurt of his hot jizz fell on my lips as I continued trying to catch my breath. I continued rubbing my pussy, feeling my own climax as he continue pumping his sperm into my mouth. I swallowed ice cream and his cream together as I struggled to catch up, but he didn’t wait for me. My fingers still worked away as I watched him put his spent cock back into his pants, zip up and leave the stall, burden and all. At last my orgasm came for me and I pushed through it, whimpering, gasping, fingering myself furiously, eyes clenched shut until it was gone.

I was alone in the stall when I opened my eyes, still gently rubbing my sensitive clit, disappointed that the encounter was over as I heard the door shut behind the stranger who had just satisfied himself with my mouth. “Thanks,” I said out loud, thinking I was alone in the restroom. I let out a sigh and started to stand and adjust my skirt when the stall door slowly swung open and the man who I had seen at the urinal a few minutes earlier smiled at me, obviously ready for his turn. My fingers slipped back into my panties as I sank again onto the seat of the toilet, a good little slut, eager to please another holiday stranger.

Happy Hobby Holiday SPECIAL RATE

Let’s Reminisce!

rem·i·nisceˌ
reməˈnis/
verb: indulge in enjoyable recollection of past events.

Come Back For the Holidays

Help me celebrate the holiday season through shared memories of experiences past…

If you have ever spent time with me, I’m inviting you to visit me again to relive the experience at a nostalgic one-hour rate of $200.

You read that correctly…

Past clients save $100 on every one-hour encounter throughout the holiday season.

All you have to do to get the rate is send me an email (or text me if you still have my number) with the subject “Reminisce with (your name & your hobby handle) on (date you want to hook up)” to experiencedgirlfriend@gmail.com.

Please include a little hint to jump start my memory in your message.

Finding Caitie Mae

Originally posted on my escort site, but the HotProvider blog engine doesn’t allow comments… Whose heard of a really cool blog with zero comments? Exactly.

Something Missing

If you’re here for the same reason I am, and I think you just might be, you’re here to make a connection. I’ve been in The Hobby for a long time and I’ve met a lot of wonderful people, but something has been missing in it for me. It took some time to put my finger on what it is that I’m not getting, but I’m coming to realize that for all of the connections I’ve made, the missing ingredient has become… well… me.

Compartments

Participation in The Hobby requires a certain level of separation between playground and player. The Hobby is not Real Life and the two don’t blend well. From the beginning of their participation here, providers and hobbyists alike separate the two aspects by a mental technique through which they categorize activities and emotions into “compartments” in order to keep them from mingling together.

Mingling emotions from Real Life with The Hobby exposes lots of conflict and can create lots of inner turmoil. Those who don’t separate one world from the other run a greater risk, in my opinion, of becoming victims of The Hobby rather than participants. Unguarded men and women, it seems, are more likely to face stalkers, angry spouses and so-called “trick babies” than those who keep The Hobby emotionally separate from Real Life.

There’s no doubt in my mind that emotional health in The Hobby requires some level of compartmentalization, but that level has to be evaluated and adjusted over time. I haven’t often evaluated my own level and because of that, The Hobby has left me feeling a bit empty. I’ve come to realize that at some point the benefits of maintaining mental compartments begins to diminish and possibly even negate it’s own purpose.

Getting Personal

Time spent in my company has been reviewed extensively over the years. Many have said that the passion I deliver in session feels so good that it must me real or feels so real that they don’t care it isn’t. I don’t know how to deliver an illusion of passion. I’ve never tried to create such an illusion. Instead, I have created a place in my head related to The Hobby and intimacy and I don’t allow anything other than passion and service to reside in that space. When you spend time with me, there is no IOP; my passion is real.

Although I’m passionate, I’ve not been very personal, and that has begun to take it’s toll on me. Caitie Mae, to me, has become someone who is difficult for me to reach and and with whom I can connect. It’s time for me to re-evaluate my compartments and give Caitie Mae new life. I’m glad you’re here to watch what happens. I’m ready to make new connections with you.

Blending the Old With the New

It was easiest to find the personality you’ve come to know when I was sharing and interacting with you more often. Through my blog I was able to share my fantasies, my opinions, my photos and even my sense of humor and your response to all of that helped to keep me full of the flavor of Caitie Mae that you. That’s why I’m back to blogging here and now. Expect more of what you have come to anticipate from my writing and my blog: erotic stories, advice/commentary, and Half-Naked Thursdays. Expect a lot more of what’s on my mind and more about sex (although the two are often the same…) I’ve also got a few surprises in store for you, too, so be sure to keep an eye on this space.