Pagan Moss' Peep Show Stories

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Spring Fever



Spring Fever

I hit the pavement early the other morning, inspired by the cherry blossoms I passed the other night. Spring is on its way and life is pushing through the soil everywhere you look like a new born child crowning. I, too, am as submissive . . . powerless against such forces. I am off to the yoga studio after at least a six-month hiatus, my eyes only slits, my mat tucked under one arm. The air is cool and the early Seattle skyline is nothing but pink and silver.

I was running late, which meant there was a good chance I wouldn’t get my favorite spot . . . the one in the very back of the room.

As I made my way to the end of Java Ave, I saw that there was a line of people waiting to get into the church. They appeared to be the homeless--the down and out. There was a young couple at the end of the line and as I approached, the young man grabbed his girlfriend (wife?) from behind and began simulating the act of fucking her. His movements were slow and deep and his girlfriend smiled as her ass bounced like a drunken metronome. He bit down hard on his lip with each thrust and gave me a sneer as I walked by. As I approached the front of the line, I heard a low, husky voice call my way, “Big tits, big tits.” Big tits . . . he surely cannot be talking about me. My tits are A’s . . . raisins on a bread board, some might say. I gave a quick, inconspicuous look around. Apart from the line, the sidewalks were bare. By this time, a couple other voices joined in, sounding like a small choir, “Big tits, big tits.” I couldn’t help but smile as I passed, making my way around the corner . . . the chorus fading.

I arrived at the studio. The teacher greeted me with a Buddha smile. There were only a handful of students stretched out on mats. I walked back to my favorite spot in the back of the room and laid out my mat too. I sat in half lotus and tried to clear my mind of all thoughts. I found my mind kept wandering, focusing instead on the lovely tat on the lower back of the very attractive girl in child’s pose in front of me.

Class began and my body felt stiff and awkward. I stood in tree position--one foot rooted into the ground, while the other foot rest upon my inner thigh, arms stretched upwards, tree-like. My attention was drawn to the dome of the church I passed earlier. It reminded me of Rome and I thought how nice it would be to visit there. My attention quickly shifted to the homeless that were surely inside by now, feeding their bodies.

Rome seemed a million miles away.

Check out other Seattle Stories.


0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home


A Seattle peep-show girl shares stories of her customers and adventures stemming from her bare-it-all behavior.

. . .

S W I T C H

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5


. . .

PSS coded by: the thistle

. . .

Archives : Sci Fi Pagan / B & W Pic / Religion Cops: They Call Themselves Vice / I think I'm in love . . . / Morning in Repose / B/W at the Peep Show / Letter From A Soldier / Letter From a Young Stripper / Pink Parka / Money Isn't Everything /

All Archives

All Peep Show Stories by Category

"Pagan Moss rocks. Her blog is all about compassion; it is the human drama unfolded. . . . And hot chicks in frilly knickers."
--Notes From The Emerald City

"Fascinating workplace material (NSFW, I'd say, not safe for your workplace) about working at the Fantasy Unlimited peep show in downtown Seattle."
--Anita Rowland

"This is good."
--Aberrant News

"Pagan Moss rocks!"
--Daze Reader

"Pagan Moss' Peep Show Stories is one of the best sex blogs online."
--Bottom's Up!

"Pagan Moss, leader of the Sensual Liberation Army, dishes up an intimate look at the world of real-life sex workers in a Seattle peep show. And you don't need to put any quarters in slots to have a peep."
--Orlando Weekly, which listed PSS as the Number One "Horniest Blog"

"If you haven't already, meet Belle and Pagan Moss. They inspired me by making me wet every time I'd read their blogs. You'll love it."
--Red Whore

Seattle Weblog Portal

. . .

Powered by Blogger

. . .

Creative Commons License

This weblog is licensed under
a Creative Commons License.

Who Links Here

. . .

Webwhore Manifesto signatory