"The words that enlighten the soul are more precious than jewels."- Hazrat Inayat Khan
Today I was filled with the words and love that every soul craves. In the darkest of times or the light of day, there is a constant desire to feel that the one you love, the one you cherish most, is adoring you too. At just that time- that wonderful, lingering moment where your minds were one- we didn't notice the sweet embrace.
Looking back on that moment, though... knowing it existed... is a blessing indeed.
****note from the author: I almost made it a whole year without the burning inspiration to update, but here we go. Can't say I was disappointed.***
Lack of sobriety sometimes leads to extreme passion.
Animal. Grunting. Growling. Biting. Mouth dripping with ferocity. Screams drown out snarls. More biting. No hesitation. Selfish lust.
Pulled hair. My grip on your arms; wrists. Dragged into bedroom, shoved in to bed. Pounced. Head cradled in one hand, hips raised in other. Support, squeeze.
No quote, just a note: This was originally written in 2005, and posted on a blog I used to co-author with some of Blogdrive's best on Love Sick. It was later shut down due to plagiarism and copyright concerns. It was an awesome blog, though.
inspired
with hesitant fingers I trace my scars I look upon violated flesh and imagine
imagine lips on torn skin torn hopes expired falsehoods and imagine
can you kiss my wounds as your words can? she senses my pains unknowing her reflex heals my scars... just scars
"Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place."- Billy Crystal
Her vagina was as warm and inviting as an axe wound, the odor half as pleasant. With no suave, sexy way to slip her panties back on, the only inconspicuous way to avoid the oral sex I'd hinted at was to renew my vigor with her neck and breasts and comment on my need to be inside her. Her sexuality was a tapestry of conundrums; though her bedroom ferocity rivaled my own, matched with the knowing gaze of an experienced lover, getting inside her was something akin to putting my foot in a Pringles can. She's either new at this or has been blessed with a bevy of pencil-dicked suitors.... perhaps never encountering a gentleman of my "stature." Either way, her grip was that of a fat man with a free buffet coupon.
I needed to pull back from the passion or this was sure to be an exercise in brevity. "Turn around," I whispered with authority, and she smiled, complying. A slap and a squeeze was a knock at the door, and if my penis was her houseguest, he grabbed a beer out of her fridge and put his feet up on her coffee table. She voiced her pleasure quite forcefully, and I knew this was a good idea. Or was it....
There's something rotten in Denmark, my Mr. Macbeth told me, as my nose was less intimately informed. Generally I work pretty quickly into a steady, deep pounding while behind enemy lines; a true U.S. servicemember veteran, I go for the whole 'shock and awe' strategy typical of a large, superior force. This was proving to be a mistake, however, as my actions were causing her tortured body chemistry's odor to drift up to me like the morning wake-up of a bad bed & breakfast, a scantily-clad chef sauteeing salmon in sulfur.
This chick's pussy smelled like the Great Depression.1
I had to slow things down or I was going to vomit on her back, so I gradually retarded my pace to a slow, deep, steady thrust, eliciting cries of both pleasure and relief from my partner- sensations I shared, albeit for different reasons. It now became obvious that one of us would be climaxing soon, and the other would be me. It seemed my own fortunate conclusion would be denied by a most sinister catch-22; if I fucked her hard enough to finish, her scent fanning up would surely keep me from doing so, but at this rate I'd never get off. I decided to be generous and maintain the Chinese water torture, and was soon rewarded with the satisfied scream known only to the most virile of men. Just as I'd resigned myself to the ultimate lover's sacrifice, she motioned for me to stand beside the bed, and she kneeled before me. While looking up into my eyes with an innocent, virginal smirk, she took me in her hands and accepted the evening's final gift: an inexpensive pearl necklace.
1- Quote from 'Grandma's Boy', a very funny movie.
"Your face, it haunts.... my once pleasant dream...."- Amy Lee
It's been almost two years since you left me, and sometimes I still can't breathe. I don't miss you, I miss what you were. I would trade every moment I've had with you to never think of you again.
It's the most sane thought I've had since seeing your face.
All that stood between them now was the cold hard steel of a shiny red door. As she extended her hand to invite herself in, the door opens and their eyes meet. Words are not exchanged, just longing gazes. Words are not needed, their smiles tell a thousand tales.
Upon their first glimpse she's certain that she loves him and he knows he loves her. She hesitates rushing to him but not because the impulse isn't there, it's simply because she wants this moment to last for a lifetime and already it seems like it's happening too fast.
Continuing without a word, she slowly makes her way into his waiting embrace. The seconds roll into minutes as they absorb each other's aura. She pulls away momentarily to see his face again. As she gently places her lips upon his, she feels his hands slowly envelope her face. Chills are sent throughout her body as she feels her desire for him deepen.
The minutes roll into hours as they acquaint their bodies and become one.
Sometimes You Have To Say Things Twice.... Or More.
"The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions."- Alfred Lord Tennyson
A powerful woman, physically, professionally, and emotionally. Six feet tall, probably 150 pounds- athletic, muscular physique. Light chocolate hair, tan complexion with no tan lines; no matter what she wears, it hangs on her like the most exotic of portraits, beckoning your gaze as only pure beauty can.
A powerful woman, physically, professionally, and emotionally. In bed, she was a goddess. She had confidence in spades, and a mastery of the passionate arts not often rivaled by the women before her.
A powerful woman..... but her desire reduced her to the most basic state. Sometimes you have to say things twice or more.... and sometimes you have to scream them.
The man behind the gun. Here are my stories, in no particular order. The names have not been changed, as no one is ever completely innocent.
Why I get love: ('I love me' section)
I'm a hilarious, handsome, well-endowed, romantic, witty, charming, talented, accomplished, professional, highly decorated, honorable, loyal, courageous, athletic, suitably when justifiably violent, mischevious, mature, immature, humble when necessary, determined, apathetic, laid back, highest genius, who has a low opinion of himself despite his obvious awesomeness.
What People Are Saying:
"You have the most beautiful way with words."- Deirdre
