Still Can...
The rare and elusive Windowsill Stalker with its lovely plumage on display.
A double wrapped waistchain? Or a loop with a long trail that is tucked in her hip joint? Inquiring minds want to know!
I think that Elon Musk is an object lesson in moral philosophy.
Like, he's the epitome of self-interest; the closest thing real life can produce to a Randian hero. And by any reasonable standard, he's won at life! He's the richest man ever to live, and he's getting richer; he controls the channels of information and communication; the government of what remains the world's only superpower waits on his command. If capitalism had a victory condition, he would surely have achieved it. And yet...
He's empty. He's an absolute sucking void of neediness. His own children hate his guts. He pays professional gamers to run up impossibly high scores in every game under the sun because the pale glow of being praised by epic bacon chuds online is the closest thing that he can feel to love.
Like. I can't tell you what a soul is, but I think you neglect it at your peril.
Terri couldn't believe how worked up she got before voting for the first time. Months before the election, she had convinced herself that she was going to do it wrong or vote for the wrong candidate. One of the things that got her worked up was her wardrobe for going to the polls. She didn't want to offend a poll worker and get turned away. Terri likes to wear bikini tops or deep plunge crop tops. Anything that displays her large breasts, like they could be anything but attention-getters. So we got her a crisp white heavy blouse for her poll visit. She already had a nice pair of jeans and a pair of strappy wedges. Once a week she would put on a fashion show, just for me, consisting of just these items, and strut around the house for hours to get comfortable in this ensemble. This is her area of expertise and I let make the decisions about it, with my guidance.
About a month before early voting started, I had her start to research the candidates and the issues. She kept complaining that it was hard, it was too much information, it was taking her time away from me. “Just tell me who to vote for” she would whine. I reminded her that this was what she wanted and Good Girls always follow through. I made sure to check on her often, standing behind her chair, stroking her hair, massaging her shoulders, and giving her boobs a little squeeze. Boob squeezes were her favorite. I could literally feel tension and worry leave her body. A few times I caught her looking at porn sites. I would give one of her breasts a smack on the side as “punishment”.
As early voting approached, the sample ballots arrived in the mail. I made some copies for her to practice with. The idea was to simulate voting, so she got dolled up in her voting outfit, the white shirt, nice jeans, and strappy wedges. As a gift for how much a Good Girl she was being, I gave Terri a white pandemic mask with blue and red polka dots. That broke her and we the whole day fucking. Anytime I started to imply we should simulate voting, she would stuff a tit in my mouth, squeeze my head closer, and pepper the top of my head with kisses. The next day we actually simulated the voting process in the living room. I had her approach a mock sign-in desk several times because she was doing it “too sexy”, bouncing her breasts or swinging her hips. Once she got signed-in, I gave her a sample ballot to fill out. Our polling place just has the rickety high top tables with the visual barriers. We have an old mexican lectern. She went to the lectern and stood there. Then she started fidgeting, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. I moved behind her and smacked her apple-bottom which made her stand upright. “What's the problem?” I asked. “I don't know what to do here.”, she responded in a tone so low I almost didn't hear her. “Just like we practiced, pickup the marker and fill the box” she giggled, I smacked her bottom “indicating your decision”. “When you're finished bring the ballot to the table”. We performed this routine several times, broken with either food or sex acts. I noticed she was much more confident after she blew me. Terri and I repeated this routine over the next couple of days until she told me she was ready.
Terri voted like she had always been voting. She was a little nervous and I had her suck my cock in the shower, to boost her confidence. She got dressed in her white shirt, jeans, and strappy wedges, and checked that her mask was in her clutch purse. During the drive to the polling place, I put my arm around her shoulders and massaged/fondled her breast, lending an air of normalcy. In the parking lot she had to re-button the shirt (how did it get unbuttoned?) and put on our masks. There was no real line to vote. I went first, telling her to watch what I did, where I went. When I got finished, Terri's anxiety was starting to re-emerge. I put my hand on her ass, whispered in her ear “you got this”, “you're a bright girl” (she really is, just gets anxious), and “you're a Good Girl”, patted her ass and sent her to the sign-in table.
I'm so proud of my Terri! She voted for the very first time without a hitch! How did two of the buttons on her blouse come undone? She bounced over to me, gave me a big hug, and we turned to leave. She showed me the 'I Voted' sticker she got, I showed her mine. I suggested getting some ice cream to celebrate before going home. She said sure, but she wanted to go to the car first. OK. By the time we got to the car she had unbuttoned the shirt, her boobs swaying rather freely still under the stiff cloth. She got in the back seat and pulled me in behind. She had stashed one of her crop tops back there and proceeded to remove her shirt. Next thing I knew I had my mouth stuffed full of her tit. Then the other. I could feel her trembling, the anxiety leaving her as I suckled, bit, and squeezed her tits. When she had calmed down, she took my sticker, and hers, and placed them over her nipples. She looked so cute, swinging them side to side. She put on the crop top and we went for ice cream, stickers still on her nipples. When we got home, she ignored me, ran in to the bedroom whipping off the crop top as she went, and posed in front of the large mirror admiring the stickers still adhering to her nipples. After a few minutes of her admiring herself, we went on to do what any horny couple would do.