8:30am (Wednesday Morning) my thoughts:
I need get my photo to Hy for Boobday early today, its due this evening if I want to make it onto her blog. I hate missing the deadline, being included in that group of tits always gives me the best Friday, which starts my weekend just right.
What should I do this week? Hmmm *looks up hoping to see some inspiration, sees nothing*
I know readers must be getting tired of seeing the same types of poses, whether wrapped in black leather or white ruffles. I need to make it interesting, I need to capture something I do that is exciting, but with boobs out. The background needs to be nice, of course the clothing needs to allow for boobs to show, there has to be time to sneak it without being seen…. Damn, I need to rig up my tripod to work with my phone.
I’m just going to start taking selfies now, increasing my chances of getting a good shot if I just take several throughout the day…
Then, I did it. I did what I could, that is. Please, witness the extreme excitement that is my day (note, I’m just trying to be funny, again, and I really do like my life though I might make it sound like I need to spice it up a bit):
8:46am Shit, there is a coffee ring, on my shirt. Proof I rest my warm cup right there when I’m waking up and lounging on the couch. I do have a bit of trailer trash redneck in me, hot damn!
10:15am I don’t think I should be taking photos of this train track made to be a roller coaster. Though I’m proud of it, I think it belongs on my personal Instagram account instead. I need to get a boob out soon though, or I might miss my chance for a good boob shot.
10:40am Hmm, oh well, better get on with my day.
11:01am: Getting dressed I choose my lacy trimmed black bra, a chunky necklace, and a summery dress. No makeup, my face isn’t in any pics, so fuck it!
11:24am Oh shit! I have somewhere to be in six minutes!
12:00pm Disappointment that my children are assholes at the park. No depressed boobs to show.
5:45pm I’m so good. What a wonderful day it was, hmmmm.
8:00pm My husband and I don’t take photos, but we recreate the scene from “The Sweetest Thing” where she eats ice cream in bed while he eats her out. My ice cream (vanilla cherry) does have calories though, unlike the fantasy cut-scene in the movie (this clip isn’t available or I would link it). But fucking aye, eating ice cream while my husband goes down on me has to be one of the best fucking ideas he ever had (he loves me so much, muah!!! honey). When he positioned himself to fuck me after what felt like an hour of pussy licking I had to put the ice cream down of course, and devote all my attention to his powerful thrusts. But I discovered a whole new way to enjoy my food fetish (is it a food fetish I don’t know?)
9:30pm I just woke up, how long was I out? I need to email a photo to Hy still!! Shit!!
9:32pm Fruitless attempt at getting that perfect boob pic, this time in the bathroom, in a sleepy daze. It sure isn’t working out!
7:52 pm (Thursday Evening) Write this post as fast as I can. Due to an unplanned visit from a friend *on her way* my chances to get one last photo this week (and there was a great idea for this shot- ah next week), or to refine this post are eliminated. Save draft! Realize that captions on the click through(s) don’t show, now explanations that seem important won’t be seen. Fuck! Publish! Hi, here we are, Happy Boobday!