September 2nd - No Dumb Blonde

September 1st - 9am: Am I dreaming of dragon flies?  the room is filled with a low buzzing drone, the sound surrounding me from everywhere at once, reverberating in the air, almost a slight vibration from the bed beneath me.  I lay half awake mesmerized with the sensation of this gentle pervasive noise, and remember it's Indy time.. and what I feel and hear is the intense rumbling of the racing cars blocks away, men in little wheeled cages moving at insane speeds.  Wolfe is still asleep beside me, and I can feel the sound, the buzzing, in my loins, and I know with all certainty I can't go back to sleep again, that something inside me today is racing too.

Sometime in the late morning:  I know not exactly when, it's one of those days where time doesn't matter, I have nothing scheduled, nothing planned, free... I've climbed up the steel ladder to my loft to discover my NY paramour waiting for me online.  After some mildly frustrating icq problems we connect in the chat area, a less private place for play, but we connect.  The humming from the race cars seems louder... or maybe I can hear the blood in my veins making their own course.   I know we're going to play, NY and I, and I've been missing it, missing him.  It takes only moments, before I have the blonde wig on, I know it's the one he's wanting.  The blonde...


Moving out of impulse and intuition, nothing concrete in my mind, feeling almost like I'm in a mild trance I slip a black suit jacket over my totally nude body and slip on my new thigh high black leather boots... nothing more, no panties, no bra.  I've slicked my lips red and wet and lined my eyes with kohl, and I feel the thrumming. The phone rings and interrupts my reverie for a moment.. it's work calling and asking me to come in and do a relief shift, I have two hours now, before I have to leave for work.  The race begins.

I slip back into my trance and I feel surreal as I play with my own image, feeling more and more like a piece of abstracted erotic art in motion.. lost in sensation and imagery as I play to the camera and I play to NY.

I feel the energy build between us, I want to please him, please myself... I can feel his gaze on me, amplified by the gaze of the camera... feeling like I'm doubly watched, doubly exposed.  Also knowing that other sets of eyes are watching, those not in chat, wondering at why I do what I do... Why I've transformed myself into this blonde, in this unusual get up.. and I pose and preen in the camera lens.  Watching myself in the view screen as I know I'm being watched.   Censoring the parts of myself I like less, while amplifying other parts... Mesmerized by my own image, this me who is not me, yet is one part of me, like an archetype coming to surface... this blonde in these outrageous boots and a suit jacket... who is she?

  
The boots caress my legs, the heels are 4 inches of nothing, I few times I try to stand and resign myself to sitting poses... I let the suit jacket fall open, exposing my breasts... I play with my breasts and then I play with the hair that surrounds my face like golden strands of spun sugar, the color my hair naturally was when I was a very little girl.  I can feel the weight of the pearl clip earrings pinching and pulling on the lobes of my ears, and the flush rising in my chest and neck, wet, between my legs.

As my NY compliments me, and I can feel the chemistry building between us, I construct little fantasies in my own mind.  I don't type them to him, because my hands are roaming still over my own body, I can only hope that my thoughts are translated and communicated in some way through my body and my expressions.  NY is a lawyer and I fantasize that I'm his secretary, no... another lawyer... no... the judge... no, the prostitute he visits on his lunch break... 

I can't decide which character is the most powerful, which one pleases me the most... which might please him the most... I don't care, I want to be them all.  All those blondes.  For a few more moments...  I want to be The blonde, the archetypal blonde I see  captured in that perfect round lens across from me... capturing my every movement.

No dumb blonde...

not today anyways
            today is business blonde
    racing car blonde
            Pearl earring blonde
    Slut blonde
                literary blonde...

                

                        e-mail me!

XOX
Katt