What I Enjoy Most About Writing (And Facials)

Most enjoy writing because it's like a facial, which this picture shows the lower part of my smiling face, dripping with spunk.

When I saw the Jetpack daily prompt, asking what I most enjoy about writing, I was taken back to last week. Making the most of an unlikely desk, tapping away at my portable keyboard between being used by D. Who, I should probably add, was working hard in his office, only escaping between meetings.

The first thought that came to mind was that I can write anywhere. At least, everywhere I’ve tried so far, so long as I have the appropriate equipment. My laptop, phone, Bluetooth keyboard and, my favourite Block Busting tool – a pen and notebook, under a tree on a riverbank. Even using someone else (SWL, for example) as a scribe. But that initial thought was quickly superseded by something far more exciting.

And, oddly, more fitting to answer why I enjoy writing so much.

You see, I was a very lucky girl and was left to work at my desk, face dripping with spunk. Tapping away, I cold feel the cum changing consistency. My reward changing from thick, creamy reams, to slightly crinkly skin and watery drips. Poking my tongue out I savoured a drip from my nose. Yum!

Slutty me wants to share that I love writing the most when I am covered in His cum. But what I love most about writing is different to loving being painted while I write.

Writing, for me, is just like his release in that facial.

OK, not just like his release in that facial, but stick with me…

I’m not just a cum slut. I may be onto something.

This will certainly not be the strangest analogy I’ve shared on A Leap Of Faith.

When I’m using my voice to make words, I will often have become tongue tied. Much like edging, and being denied release. I run the words I want to use through the brain editor, the answers I give are stunted. Vocal anxiety filters off-the-cuff answers through a fine mesh of inner criticism. Only the most basic replies come out, if any in my immediate response. Give me a few days and I might even have an accurate response. I’m slowly building confidence with my voice, with speaking my words, but it’s a slow process.

What I enjoy most about writing is that it helps me bypass that inner critic.

Not just challenging her. Taking an entirely different route means I’m barely even aware she’s there. And she is blissfully unaware of my linguistic intentions as I creep past. Making words through my fingers, I can often achieve a flow state. A state inaccessible when using my mouth for words rather than my fingers. The words – no longer held up by the inner critic that tells lies about my voice/intelligence/interestingness – can pour out of me. Uninhibited, unrestricted, unedited, free flowing and complete.

The first draft,like those hot, white ribbons of lust painting my face.

Everything I could ever wish to say there, on the page. As I sit and tinker, proof-read and work through the various technical elements of the piece, I’m able to clean up those clinging droplets, be they typos or liquefying semen. And to revel in the slight crinkling of my skin as the ribbons form a crust on my cheeks is to hit publish on my final work.

I love writing, for many reasons, but what I enjoy most is the hot, freedom of release as my brain empties itself all over the page. In much the same way as I love facials. The hot, freedom of D’s release as his balls emptied all over my face.

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