I had a dream of a woman sitting straddling my knee and resting her head against my chest. It was the most at peace I’ve felt in weeks. I consider it a true dream walk as where my dream was prior to that moment was completely in a dreamscape. I hope, whoever she is, she felt as I did. At peace, at home.
I am too old to breathe and too old to die
So this leaves me where but between
Lost in a seethe of lie
Strike me from my bones
As morsel eat
Until all consumed
I may pass on
Or give me over to fires embrace
One last or is it first passion
A lover who at least knows her worth
Pick glass out of wounds long closed
Like memories pulling free
So short a life consumed in smallest
A drifter encased in a life of choices fallen to dust
Pause to inhale but is it life or just a slipping of darkness into day
Bound by our shackles forged in persuit
And struck round until freedom is as foreign as love.
I think about it daily
Several times a day
It causes pain in my throat
Tears in my eyes
I feel my heart aching
And I keep getting up
I keep going to work
I keep acting
Like I’m my normal self
If not normal itself
It’s not that I want to die
Or that oblivion is so alluring
I just don’t see the point of this anymore
And I tell myself, of course I won’t do it
It used to be that I thought, don’t set it in motion cause that’s when it will turn around.
Ever the cynic, even the end turns out wrong
But now it’s that I can’t hurt the people I love
Even if they don’t love me like I need them to
I think about it every day
But I don’t do it
I don’t know if that makes me strong
Or a fool
This is a beautiful world
I doubt it would be less so without me in it
I would die a thousand deaths
If I could hold you in my arms
As I slipped away
I would live a thousand lives
If I could live them by your side
I would fight a thousand battles
If I could keep you from harm
I would watch your back a thousand thousand times
As you fought the battles I could not see
These thoughts as I lay awake dreaming
In this empty bed
In this too quiet room
Burned ash deep
Just a empty voice in the wilderness
Shouting my pain
Crown me in silver
Also known as last place
is where I rate
Contender thinking the impossible
Until slammed face first
And still I try to scale
Because of the maybe
Because that one time
Is all it takes
Or so I whisper to myself
I know people say you have to be enough on your own but I think that is western cultural bias. Specifically, USA culture. It says that you must stand on your own to be considered an adult. But the only people who truly do that are narcissists. And even they attempt to have people around, if only to fawn all over them.
We depend on each other and need human companionship. Even if the form that takes is casual comradery or the sharing of fandom. No one can be everything and attempting to do so frays our selves and our actual strengths go undeveloped as we attempt to swim up the tree.
Ultimately, I think, we attempt to stand on our own because we have been hurt by those we trusted. But who we trust is a product of standing on our own. Instead of looking for people who compliment who we are, we look for the similarities and homogeneous cultures and cliques do not thrive, instead infight and stagnate.
Perhaps it’s time to accept that we can’t stand alone and instead find our tribe. And treat it that way. As a group working together for the betterment of its members.
1. I’ll call it a relationship way before anyone considers it to be a relationship.
Then I’ll have to explain that I see all social interactions that are ongoing as relationships and then I’ll seem like a overthinking weirdo.
2. I will fall in love fairly quickly. And people will say that you barely know me, and I’ll say that’s true but I trust my Intuition and it says that there is something here. Love expands to fill the available space. It is not a finite thing to me. I’m not saying one true love or perfection or anything. I’m saying that I like, respect, enjoy your thoughts and mind and I feel something in you that calls to me. Again, weirdo.
3. I will fail to initiate physical intimacy, including as little as kissing until you are thinking Finally. Because I will not act without consent and I am steadfast in my rules(which I suppose is number 4). I don’t do the when the moment is right. I depend on my partner/date to tell me, Yes Now. Of course, I’m a passionate man so that may later seem to be a mistake. As in, I’ll want to kiss and touch and hold and hug all of the time, plus more intimate things as we progress. And believe me, I have no regard for public space. So PDA is very much on the market.
There are a bunch more but those are the ones that span across my experience.
I feel it coming, pouring like a wave I don’t know how to dodge. Tell me you need me, tell me you want me, tell me you love me. Ask for my help, for my guidance. Speak, else I fall.
The press of our bodies heats the air. Musk and sex fill the back seat. I bury my face into the crook of her neck, pressing the muscle of tongue against the flutter of her beating veins. We push up together and I pull down, as she crests down. Like a wave that moves her onto me over and over. Parted for less than a second, but starved for each other.
I hear a soft sound to my left and see Sara watching us, drinking us in, memorizing us. Like a movie she’ll play back later. I reach down and rub my thumb against hood, grazing clit in time to our thrusts. I feel Tara tighten like a fist around me each time I brush clit. I know she’s right on the verge. I slow down, watching pulse slow then quickly build our momentum again. I feel myself start to lose control. Any second I’ll be past the point of no return.
That won’t do.
I slow again but quicken my thumb and make sure the slower thrusts run over and over the rough gspot. I watch as Tara clenches over me, pulse against pulse as she goes boneless. I almost lost control.
The pains of having two lovers’ needs to take care of. I move Tara to the seat across from me and she sprawls languid in afterglow. I turn to Sara to see her sliding to her knees and bends face first in Tara’s still tender pussy. I watch as my wife runs her tongue in long slow circles. Little minx.
Punishment for not waking her up I suppose. Brat. Well, surprises all around then. But I will admit that watching my love cause our pet, our girl, to writhe and moan just destroys me. I could watch them for hours. Just because I know they enjoy it and enjoy me watching them. And they are mine. If I were any happier it would be illegal.
But, Sara knows that she should have asked permission first so, let the punishment fit the crime. I pour the lube from the warming tray down into Sara’s soft pink pucker. I hear the intake of surprise but she keeps to her slurping task. I work in the lube into her. Then pour more onto my cock. I’d normally have opened her up a bit with a plug first but she’s no stranger to my cock in anywhere I desire. I’m just normally more deliberate and orderly.
But today, I press in against her, pushing until I feel resistance then holding, then pushing deeper until I hear her softly whimpering and pushing back against me. I know that without the preliminary she has to be in pain even if she is also in pleasure. Gods, I love my little pain slut. Always give them what they need.
I pull out leaving only the head and slam back in, eliciting a scroam. Half scream half moan. And quickly pound into her. No thought to what else she may need. This is a punishment. I ram my body against her slapping into her as hard and fast as I can until, overwhelmed by her undulating the inner walls of her anus, effectively sucking my cock with her ass. Minx. I blow into her. I feel myself empty into her ass and I pull out with a soft pop. I look over at her and she is smiling, radiant in pain and pleasure.
“Tara, dear, please clean out Sara’s ass. She’s made a mess,” I order.
Tara has been watching for a minute while I worked over Sara.
Sara angles her muscular ass to Tara and winks at her. Brat.
I catch the wink in the tinted windows. Shaking my head, I say “Sara, clean your stink from my cock. You have made a mess.”
Knowing how much Sara hates humiliation, not a hard limit but she loathes it, she knows she took it too far. She bends her head to my sloppy cock dripping cum, lube and ass juices. She begins to lick me clean. Our eyes holding each other, she licks right up the center vein. I feel myself growing hard. I’m not made of stone.
Sometimes I wonder who’s really in charge.