Jason Momoa under a waterfall

I had wonderful, erotic, dreams last night that involved Jason Momoa and a waterfall. He was sun-kissed, shirtless and barefoot, just a pair of very well fitting shorts. His hair was loose and he was smiling. In the dream, he purred my name, swept me under the waterfall, pulled me into his arms, lifted me up and made love to me. And oh, it was good. I can remember his smell, the strength of his arms, the sound and feel of the waterfall and… yeah.

I’m pretty sure this picture

helped inspire the dream. Don’t you want to wrap your arms around his biceps while he presses you down on the rocks and fucks you hard?

I woke up horny but had no time to do anything about it, I had an early lecture. I was completely unable to shake the images from my mind all day and each time it played out, the fantasy got more detailed, more erotic, more vivid and by the time I got home this evening, my engine was very revved up.

Jack wasn’t home when I got in, he was out with the dogs, but Lucy was, and luckily she’s got a very high sex drive so didn’t mind me basically pouncing on her as soon as I walked through the door. We were still working off some energy when Jack got home, he joined us and… well. The fantasy got some mileage, although there was no waterfall. We thought about the shower but never quite got there.

That’s not quite where I’d planned to go with this post. Not that I’m entirely sure where this was going, maybe more about Jason Momoa himself. I don’t even know if I’m going to post this. I’m going to keep writing and see what happens, that’s how this works, isn’t it?

Right now, I’m catching up on this week’s episodes of NCIS, NCIS: Los Angeles and NCIS: New Orleans (Mark Harmon and Scott Bakula are also very handsome gentlemen), a purring cat on my lap, cuddling with Lucy and listening to the rain.

We are having the most fabulous storm – huge forks of lightning, crashes of thunder, torrential rain, it’s wonderful! I absolutely love storms, love ’em to bits. I’ve never been one of those people frightened by them: even as a child I used to hang out of my window to watch them. And I love nothing better than going for a run in the pouring rain.