The Professor Part II

Realizing that their surroundings were somehow- less than desirable- they made their way back to his office which happened to be a good ten minute walk from the lecture hall where the tryst began.  Not wanting to flaunt the affair, the pair found it very difficult to make their way back without touching, smelling, tasting one another at various intersections along the way.  How does one make small talk when the only words that come to mind are "I want you inside me". Everything else feels lackluster. For the briefest of moments, walking side by side, she felt the pads of his fingers graze the back of her elbow.  The simplest of touches and yet she was now unable to navigate her way. Suddenly the task of walking seemed superfluous.

They passed under an old wooden bridge on campus just moments from his office. Unable to control her desire the student reached out and pulled The Professor behind a large wooden truss which was shielded from the main thoroughfare. Books, papers, phones, a mug, all falling to the ground around them as he pinned her body against the weathered wood with a hungry urgency. She pulled his head towards her breasts and he dropped the neck of her shirt down revealing a thin, sheer bra. Licking at her hard nipple over the fabric drove her need from demanding to uncontrollable. He slipped the bra down and quickly had her in his mouth, drawing her deeper into him. "More", she whispered between moans. The dark look that came over his face as he dropped to his knees in front of her made her wet and fucking ravenous!

Slipping her foot out of her sandal she rested it on his shoulder. Just as she had imagined him during class earlier, here he was- on his knees- between her thighs. "Is this okay", he asked her. Ever the gentleman he wanted to offer her control. As if her body would allow her to stop at this moment. Still, the gesture was not lost on her. "Please", again she whispered. Not trusting her voice. He placed his hand on the inside of her elevated knee and spread it further outward. Taking in the site before him- not wanting to rush. She put her head back and allowed her lids to get heavy as he laid the first kiss on her inner thigh. His fingers worked their way up before his lips did and played with that delicate line between her skin and underwear. Her underwear slipped easily to the side and his lips grazed at her skin. Not quite entering her- his tongue lapped at her sex and she came immediately. No one had ever handled her that way. It was obvious he was no freshman but his skill served her well.

She pulled him up to meet her. She wanted to taste herself in his mouth. The sweet mixture was heady and she wanted to return the favor. Mostly because she was so consumed by him that there wasn't much she wouldn't want to try as long as it was with him. With a little more feist than force she pushed him against the wooden truss and drew his tongue into her mouth. His hand quickly wound around her and cupped her ass. Fingers slowly reaching toward each other and closer to her wet thighs. She kissed that 'V' at his neckline and tugged his shirt loose from his jeans. He was so hard against her touch. She rubbed her nose over him as she unhooked his belt and began to unbutton his jeans. Something about the buttons increased her desire to have him in her mouth. He was fantastically hung! He stood out as being not only impressively long but wide enough that she looked forward to how slow he would have to initially enter her.

A small drop of dew formed at the head and, mixed with her own saliva, she wound her tongue around the tip and down the underside of his shaft until she came to his beautiful sack. Taking each in her mouth at a time she relished the way they moved over her tongue. Paying careful attention not to leave them out of the moment- she cupped him gently and began to draw him into her mouth while firmly grasping his shaft with her other hand. His breath was loud and heavy and quickly became hurried as her grip on him intensified and her mouth asked for more. She felt the need in him rise and she looked up to see the change in his face before he came. The taste was gratifying. She had made this strong, intelligent man a slave to the same carnal desire that she bore.

Not ashamed to taste himself on her- he also drew her against him and held her gaze for a moment before kissing her very slowly and with great intent. She softened in his embrace. The kiss was a conversation. And though they had not yet had much by way of a traditional conversation- they were learning the nuances of one another in these first moments.

There was no hiding the ridiculous grin, glowing cheeks, 'not quite put together' clothes that they were both sporting. They were not ready for the sexual repartee to come to a close just yet...

To Be Continued

The Professor

She wandered around the university looking for her next class, "something- methods..." she thought to herself wondering where on God's green earth building 'F' could be.  Upon finding her class she was relieved to see that there were still spots available on the front row. You wouldn't call her an ass-kisser but she liked to make eye contact with the professor and sitting in the back was always so distracting. Sally Bimbo twirling her hair here, Jeffrey Jock rubbing his thighs there. Pulling a notebook and pen from her bag she scanned the room to see who she would be spending the next couple of months with. Same group of idiots she had been avoiding in the previous two classes. "Honestly" she thought, "why do they even bother showing up". 1030 on the dot - a handsome middle aged man in a tweed coat walks into the lecture hall from the rear. He had 'Professor' written all over his worn leather bag, loafers, and faded jeans. His dark hair was kept short and just a hint of grey peeked through at his temples. He smelled like old books and aftershave as he walked past her to place his bag on the table. Immediately she felt her cheeks flush and a twinge of warmth between her thighs. She regretted being in the front of the class immediately and wondered if there were any spaces in the back. Flipping around she found that the room had filled up quickly (of course).

The Professor introduced himself briefly and while doing so made eye contact with a select few students around the room. As his eyes came to fall upon her his speech started to slow. His breathing became a bit more noticeable. She couldn't look away. His lips parted and all she noticed was the way he'd wet his lower lip with the tip of his tongue after he'd been speaking for a while. Noted as well were the slow strokes that his forefinger made along the handle of his mug as he looked down at the floor where her feet were crossed at the ankles. Her eyes  traced the strong line of his jaw down along the 'V' of his collared shirt. Just a little hair at the juncture. How could she not close her eyes momentarily and dream about the expanse of his chest against her hands, lips, breasts? Her breath caught -attracting the attention of several around her. She coughed a bit hoping to hide the sound that had just escaped her lips. Of course she had caught his attention as well... his gaze intensified.

He walked over to the table and sat his coffee mug down. He straddled the edge of the small desk addressing the class with a warm yet smug air that read "I'm much smarter than you but I'd still like to invite you back to my office after and tear your clothes off". Maybe she was projecting that last part. As he spoke he rocked gently side to side on the corner of the desk.  Perhaps only noticeable to her secondary to the fact that he was seated directly in front of her and his belt was at her eye-line.  Maybe it had more to do with the way she could not stop thinking about parting her knees and allowing him to crawl between them and nuzzle her tiny, mesh thong to the side with his nose.

Beads of perspiration welled between her breasts as the daydream enshrouded her mind. All of a sudden The Professor stood and thanked the class for attending and excused them. Had an hour passed already? As she put her unused notebook and pen away she could see him gathering his things together.  The class began filing out and being at the front of the class she was now among the last to leave. She could not imagine trying to concentrate for the rest of the semester and began to leave the room with an unrequited feeling of desire. A slight wind ran up the back of her neck making her hair stand on end. As she reached up to quiet the aroused hair follicles The Professor reached for her hand and pulled her back into the room with him!

His lips found hers immediately. Her eyes closed as she was consumed by the feel of his large lower lip between her teeth. He tasted so incredibly good! He traced his lips along her neck now and up to her earlobe. Immediately she wanted more of him. All of him...

To Be Continued...

Dr. Google

About a year and a half ago I made the transition from hospital nursing to office nursing.  Specifically from Labor and Delivery to an OB GYN office. My primary function is what you would call phone triage (i.e. I answer questions on the phone and decide if/when the patient needs to be seen or if the problem can be solved over the phone). p.s. that's just the tiny tip of the ice berg.  

Any how. Over the period of a few months I noticed that I got a large number of phone calls that started with the line "So, I was doing some research (on Google) and I think, based on my symptoms, that X  (insert anything you'd like here) is the root cause of all my problems (in life).  

I laughed it off the first few times because I used to do the same thing.  The difference being that I am an educated health care professional and the majority of the people I talk with are not. And that's great. 

No big deal.

 Over the next year it happened on a regular basis and it started driving me bananas!! (And not the good Bananas like my dear friend over at The Japing Ape). 

These are intelligent people who are convinced that they know more than a physician because they spent 15 minutes on some woman's blog from Arkansas who is convinced that all of her anecdotal information is true for everyone.  

Now. Partaking in the blogosphere (is that a real word?) as I do.  I realize that some people may take the musings of my brain... practice them in their own lives... and contrive some type of fact or insight (or pleasure) from the experience.  Let's face it, I have a few good ideas now and then ;)  That doesn't mean that my ideas have been studied, tested, and trialed by a large group of my peers who can determine that there's a correlation between what I've experienced and what most people will experience.  Then again, that's not always important when dealing with things like VIBRATORS. Of matters relating to infertility, hormone replacement therapy, contraception, irregular menses, and a whole slew of other such issues, peer reviewed information and evidenced based practice are important.

(I may be on a soap box here... feel free to stop reading at any point) (And if you're wondering... yes, the picture above is me. I've had a full facial reconstruction, boobs, lipo, collagen, extensions, bleaching (asshole and hair) and colored contacts) (NO not really). (I could add a few more parentheses here if you'd like).

You either make the decision when you go to a western doctor that you are going to subscribe to that brand of bullshit or you're not. For my sake though, if you're going to call and question every little thing that your doctor tells you because DR. GOOGLE told you otherwise... don't waste my time. Please.

With that said... if I like you, if you're family, if you pose an intelligent question... then of course I'm happy to listen=)

Thank you and good night!

Mistress (Nurse) Auri

The Life and Death of A Good Toy

Several months ago while 'The Girls' and I were eating sushi at Yellow Fin, our new fave spot, the topic of toys came up.  And no friend, I am not referring to your kid's toys that you're constantly cleaning up off of the floor.  We're talking about sex toys here, people.  OF COURSE I brought up my old trusty Pocket Rocket that's been a staple in my night stand for umpteen-bazillion years.  Why wouldn't I?  It was actually a sad convo because my old pal had finally bit the dust some time back... but might I add that the champ waited until after I was 'done' to kick the bucket.  See!! What other toy would be so sweet as to wait until you were done? I bet yours is rude.  Anyway... I had a little moment of silence as I tossed it into the garbage (in the laundry room) to go fill up the local landfill (where all good toys go to die).  Some of the girls present at dinner that night had never had the chance to read my editorials on this particular toy or my rant on all toys in general.

After a long and very detailed description of the what, why, how (which I'm sure all the sexy employees were privy to)- we decided to go for a little shopping trip.  Big thanks to Doc Johns for staying open late enough that ladies out looking for a good time can swing by whenever the mood strikes them!  After looking at all of the cheap lingerie, leather studded paddles (Girls had just read Fifty Shades), and lube, we got to the wall I was looking for.  There it was!  So we ALL bought one that night (granted not all in the same color... which is important because Brooke thinks her black one is better than my white one)... $48 something later I walked out of the shop with my little black bag... anxious to get home and take it for a drive!
Let's just say that all was right once more in Casa De Mistress.  I promptly texted one of my buddies just to elaborate on how wonderful the experience was... of course... what else do YOU do after a good 'O'?

So let's skip forward a month or two to the next 'Girls Night' at the same lovely booth in the same lovely sushi spot.  Would you believe that the subject of toys came up again? (if you were asleep in the first paragraph that would be sex toys, you naughty monkey, you)  I know, you're shocked.  Contain yourself.  We had one or two different girls there with us and I am proud to announce that I didn't have to say one thing about my little Pocket Rocket because the other girls couldn't stop singing its praises! No Lie!!  We would all break out in fits of the giggles now and then because we were so excited to talk about how great the orgasms were with it!  I felt a little like I do after one of my minion does well on a math test or after I've changed some random fluid in my car...PROUD!  And also very excited that I could share something that made my friends happy.  Because no matter how naughty this Mistress might be now and then... I'm still just a down-to-earth kinda girl who wants to spread a little love...

Until next time...

Mistress Auri

Mad Men making me a happy girl

I was a little late on the bandwagon when it comes to the whole Mad men phenomenon. But never fear my tasty minions... I am almost caught up. I'm on episode 11 of Season 4. Good shit, man. I'm hooked. I don't think I've ever wanted to wear polyester so much in my entire life. That and I've had a sudden craving for cocktails in the evening comprised of 3 ingredients (because as Peggy says "2 ingredients is an emergency"). Yah... the show's wearing off on me. For those who are thinking I'm just a shallow bean at this point you can rest easy because I also really enjoy the social commentary that the writers are constantly making about the issues of the 60's. From what I've heard from my parents and grandparents they're pretty spot on with the historical recollections. The way people reacted to the death of Kennedy and all the social taboos that they make a point of bringing up(smoking and drinking while pregnant, divorce, reprimanding other people's kids, racism, etc). If you haven't seen it yet... watch it. I don't even have satellite or cable and I'm watching it... what's your excuse?

And now... for your viewing pleasure (and mine)... a few pics of our fave ad men and women:

Joan makes Marilyn Monroe wish she had been a redhead.

Aaah the days when clothes were tailored. Well... maybe your clothes are ;)

That Don Draper... the Mistress likey.

Love Sal! Who doesn't love a sweet gay man in these shows?

I love wearing a corset for fun but I can't imagine having to be in one all day long. Thank goodness that's over!

Nothing like a sharp dressed man! I saw a young guy in a 3-piece the other day downtown and I was in awe. Take notes guys...


Hope you've enjoyed=) I know I have!
xo
Auri

The Placenta and The Pine Tree

(For those of you who haven't heard this story... here it is... again)

I'll spare you the long, boring story of my first delivery. Honestly, I'm three years out after my third child and I don't really feel the need anymore to relive my first in gory detail (lucky you). Don't get me wrong, at some point I did... just not now=)

Oh no... this story is specifically what happened after we got home from the hospital. See, I was one of those 'weird' people who wanted to take my placenta home because I was going to plant it under a tree. I had heard the idea before and thought it was kind of cool. Sort of an everlasting tribute to the baby and a very granola way of giving back to the earth (and all of that hippie hoop-la). So, get the placenta home (in a mint green, plastic bucket provided by the hospital) and we don't have the tree right away so what do we do? We freeze the placenta.

In our freezer.
Along with the ice that we use for guests.
Along with the chicken breasts.

(Don't worry, I'm horrifying myself. And yes, I've grown as a person over the years)

Several months later we decide to buy a small pine tree. But alas, we lived in a triplex and we didn't want to plant a tree in the ground there where someday we would move away and leave our placenta tree behind (wait for it... ). So my dear sweet husband buys a whiskey barrel planter and some potting soil for our little placenta tree and I put the placenta out to thaw so we could get it out of the mint green plastic bucket to plant.

The bucket, as it turns out, was not so sturdy. I came home that day to find blood (at least it was my own) all over the counter because the plastic had cracked. Eeeew. Yes, I know I'm a nurse but it was still freaking gross. Somehow chicken blood, cow blood, and pig blood are all acceptable forms of bodily fluid on my counter. But when it comes to humans... I have a strict 'no bodily fluids' policy on my kitchen counters.

Anyway.

Clean the mess up. Then the nurse in me comes out and I have to investigate my placenta because it's cool. And yes... placentas are cool. Judge me if you want. I'm past caring (okay, I care a little... but not enough to keep me up all night). We get the placenta in its bed of dirt and put the little pine tree in its new home. Pretty exciting right?

Maybe not. I grab the hose to water the new tree and what does it do? It bleeds. All down the driveway. After being horrified again at all of my bodily fluids on public display I quickly hose them all away into the dirt and clean up. Watering the little pine tree I'm thinking to myself that this will all be over with soon and the placenta will stop bleeding after a day or two.

Boy was I wrong.

Not only did it not stop with the horrible bloody show but then it started to decay and apparently there was not enough dirt on God's green earth to keep the smell from emanating through the planter because that little tree reeked something fierce. I tried to love the tree. I tried to keep watering it. I finally moved it over to the dirt in a corner by the carport where its bleeding and foul odor would be less offensive to the neighbors (I kind of felt like an oppressive father to a young daughter at this point, but what else was I to do? It's not like I could give it a bath and a tampon!?). Finally I just couldn't take care of my little placenta tree anymore. I had to realize that it had been a mistake to bring the damn thing home in the first place. It had been a mistake to plant it in a planter and not the ground. I tried to be a good little hippie mom but I should just get with the times and realize that I was no more a hippie than my mom had been.
Damn.
I so wanted to be 80 years old with grand children who would come over to the house and I could gross them out by telling them that their father's placenta was under that tree over there...

Grindhouse presents...

So I was laying in bed last night (keep it in your pants kids) and I was having a fabulous convo with myself for the bloggity blog. Do you think I can remember one iota of it today? Nope. Nada. Zip. If this is what comes with getting old... I don't want it! Shit! It was good too. I figure that maybe if I just sit here and type on my dysfunctional keyboard for a while maybe I will remember the brilliance that once was.

Oh...
I member...

So... How many of you out there have seen... Wait for it...

Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof"
(spoiler alert)

Anyone?

Buehler?

I don't know what took me so long to see this movie. I guess I'm just stubborn (shut up Salti). But I swear to you I was watching it and having an ultimate girl power moment. I feel that I must warn some of you, due to the mixed nature of my audience, that this is a violent, sexual, somewhat drug/alcohol laden type of movie. And yes... I still loved it. The characters are complex and interesting. As a woman you watch the movie and relate to the dialogue because it is so similar to what we actually talk about. And then there's my new girl crush... Zoe Bell!! Stunt woman turned actress/stunt woman. This Kiwi does it all. She's rad. And yes... I use the word 'rad' liberally when called for. Just ask Ms. Salti and all my immediate family. I'm bringing it back people.

(That's Zoe in the green hat)

So. As Lamar used to say on Reading Rainbow "Don't take my word for it"... go see it yourself, lovers. Enjoy! And be prepared for a little unexpected Tarantino gore =) He's good like that!

Dear Lola,

Dear Lola,
Don't worry my love. I didn't forget about your question=) I'm just a really terrible blogger these days!


For those of you who read the post Dear Mistress... Lola asked me if there was any food that turned me on. This is a fun question. Technically there is a drink that turns me on. Patron =)

But of course! And how perfect that I'm writing this to you because (correct me if I'm wrong) but I think this might be one of your favorite drinky poos as well? I started getting the name
' Tequila Auri' because I morphed into a different person when I allowed myself to get a little tipsy with Patron. And let's just say that my libido ain't lackin' Lakely ;) Talk about a little social lubrication. However... I've had to swear off the shots and agree to mixed drinks when it comes to my dear drink of choice. Yes... that's right. Don't cry. Tequila Auri has had to learn to tone it down just a bit. Don't worry Lola. That doesn't mean that you have to as well. As long as you're wearing (or making him wear) a condom and taking care of yourself then you can have plenty of fun for years to come!!
As for a tangible (non-liquid) food that turns me on... I'm a little less picky about this. Me, less picky? I know! Don't tell anyone, OK! It'll be our little secret. As long as there was love while the meal was made, or passion while the restaurant was chosen (or hell, a babysitter so I can get a GD night out once in a while!) then I'm a pretty easy sell. If he pulls the chair out for me, compliments me on how beautiful I look, and maintains eye contact the food automatically tastes a little better. If he's an active listener during dinner and makes sure I'm enjoying my meal my panties are a little wetter. And if he puts his hand on the small of my back as he's helping me up you can guarantee that I'm hardly thinking about the dessert at the table but the dessert we're about to be having between the sheets.

So my dear...
There you have it!
Do tell me what your sinful delight is=)
I love a good story.

xoxo
Mistress Auri

Good lord it's hot outside

Oy Vey,
Did I spell that correctly? Let's hope so lest I piss someone off. Life is just about too crazy to try and sum up these days. Yes folks, the mistress is having one hell of a shit storm. But that's what life is right? Right!

So, not going to cry about it at the moment. Just going to sit here and blog about this and that. Like the fact that this idiotic tab key is refusing to cooperate unless I pound the ever-living-love out of it. It's like it wants to be beaten. Not that there's anything wrong with that. If you're a PERSON. But this is an expensive piece of equipment and I prefer not to beat it into submission. Catch my drift?

The garden is at least twice the size of last year. And you know how my attention wained last year round this time. Well... the garden is my happy place. I wander around the veggies and the fruit and I train the tender vines and somehow life has order and all is right in the world. And for a couple of hours each day I can breath and be calm. It's some pretty therapeutic shit... I'm telling you. Don't have time for therapy? Get yourself a garden. Unless of course you hate getting dirty, can't stand bugs, or have issues with prickly things. Then you'd pretty much suck at the whole gardening thing.

The baby business is going. We have our busy days as this is definitely our busy time of year. But we are a business after all and somehow beautiful things always have to be turned into businesses. Can you understand what I'm saying here? Let's just say that some days my work haven stresses me out to no end. But... I guess the rest of you are rolling your eyes and patting me on the back... telling me to join the club. No more bitching... it wears me out;)

My little monkey butts are getting so big! Taryn just had her 4th birthday! Can you believe it? My youngest is 4! My oldest will be in 3rd grade this year and my middle guy will be in kindergarten. Kind of crazy to see how quickly they're all coming in to their own. It's very rewarding these days. I've started writing down some of the more insane things that come out of their mouths... for example "No testicles for dinner tonight"... that's one of my personal favorites. As if we've every had testicles for dinner! Now liver, hearts, and giblets are one thing... but TESTICLES... that's just cruel;)

For those of you who keep up with miss Salti's blog she's better about writing about my life and the kids than I am. Then again that pretty much sums up our entire life/friendship together=) It's a handy thing.

Alright then you crazy beautiful people. Be good to each other. I know you won't do it because you misbehave constantly but before you go to bed I want to you think of 5 things you're thankful for.

If you feel inclined leave me a comment and let me know what they are=)
Auri

Dear Hairy Gorilla (i.e. God of Sexual Fantasies around the world),

Dear Gorilla Bananas,
So you would like to know if I've ever had a sexual fantasy about an ostrich egg. Well, funny you should ask...

Last night as I was lying in bed, tangled up in my rich Egyptian cotton sheets, I found myself trapped between this odd dreamland and a strange sense of reality. As the focus began to shift from the wall to my long eyelashes I doubted whether they were eyelashes at all. Vines maybe? Palm fronds. Yes, that's it! The ambient light grew more diffuse and I awoke to my new jungle home. The air was uncomfortably humid. Just as it should be in the jungles of the Congo. Anyone who tells you that the air in the jungle is lovely and 'balmy' is feeding you a line and should be strung up. But I can feel my skin plumping up and my curls springing to life.

My thatched hammock is soft and gently swaying with the sound of the birds in the canopy and as I turn over I realize I am not alone. Nor am I clothed. How I came to be in the presence of a stranger without my clothes is a mystery to me. But why get my nonexistent panties in a wad, right? The stranger was a large male silver back gorilla. He seemed to be speaking in my head because I don't remember his lips moving. He instantly put my mind at ease and slipped me into his arms. He began running a rather large ostrich egg down my forehead and around my cheeks. His warm hairy chest vibrated underneath me with the ebb and flow of his breath. As the smooth egg found its way down between by breasts and nestled softly on my stomach I heard the thought in my head,

"The kitchen's just through there and the other females are about to get up so you better get a move on woman!"

Some dream! Hmph! I realized I wasn't asleep. My kids had brought the eggs in and put them on my stomach in bed. Time to get up sleeping beauty.

Much love my Hairy Gorilla,
Mistress A