Desultory and Impulsive

She is awake
Braless wearing her thin grey t-shirt
It is long
Covers the curve of her ass under black leggings

The thick kind of leggings
Because it is cold.

Her attire looks soft
Comfortable

She is in the kitchen
Listening to her podcast about smart business things while making French toast from a loaf of bakery made caramel apple bread

The fragrant scent of vanilla and cinnamon fill the house

Trees are sleeping off the winter
Snow covers the ground

With her
I am warm
The home is warm
And I am looking forward
To watching the edge of my fork
Cut into the crisp softness
Covered under maple and butter

A soul enriching heaviness
Satiating what needs I will have
While out there
In the cold
Stacking wood.
 
I sit here
Drinking my coffee
Thinking about how I wish I could make women come.

I love their orgasms.

I love the thought of being a safe person they could go to. To talk. To come. To leave.

Back to their families
Their dorm rooms
Work office
Studio apartments
Condos and subdivisions

Back to their boyfriends
Husbands
Lesbian lovers

I don't want to fuck
Or get off.

I just want to be there with them
And touch them
And have them feel me pay complete attention to them through my hands and my eyes

I think this
Not because I think I'm the king-shit of giving orgasms

I'm not perfect
I'm sure mistakes would be made

But those mistake would be made without intention. We could stop and revisit another time. Or not at all.

I like this thought

It is going well with my coffee.

I'm off to think and daydream about it. Free of the stress of having to write about it as I do.

Take care:rose:
 
Intermission

Image pulled by the Tumblr police
 
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This just in...

Imagine 16 year old me driving alone at night in the quiets of a dark country road belting out this song before I had any real reason thinking I did for the imaginary woman in my head.


Thanks Pandora.
 
Bottomless
She fought
The buoyancy
Of her own body

The lake bottom
Endless and dark beyond her reach

She let her legs float
And bend
Knees up to her chest

Asshole and crotch
Exposed to nothing
And everything


She was wet
Because everything was wet
And it was okay
And she let it run out of her
Thick slick fluid
Escaping at it's leisure
Out from the folds of her labia

And she imagined it as it did


Milky ribbons
Being taken from her
With the current
Like tiny little wisps of smoke
Sending her scent
Out to attract what it could

And whatever it did


She imagined
Long fish-like creatures
Or an eel
Slick and slimy as she was
Following her call
Making it's way from the dark bottom
An unknown unseen leviathan
Looking just for her
Wanting something just of her
And finding her
And touching her foot
Her leg
Her thigh
Cold slick and thick
Slithering up into her
Pushing and splitting
And pulling out
To push back in

Feeding from her fuck
Attracting another
Unable to find
Anywhere else to enter
But her asshole

Stretching and warping and worming it's way in

Feeling so full
Wanting them as her own inside of her
Taking them to shore with her
Her biome
Their home
To breed her
 
My thoughts run about how thin the boundary is between differing realities experienced.

Choices made that cannot be taken back. Things done that cannot be undone.

All ever so thin as a decision is. No matter how much it is weighed.



Left to experience ever after in the nightmare of memory

Unable to be washed off
No matter how hot the water
Or strength of the alcohol
Or potency of the drug
Or heavy the weights being lifted
 
My thoughts run towards the people of Myanmar

Watching citizens in favor of the military coup drive their trucks with flags

And I think... these people want this.

I was reminded
Of working a September Saturday
I was in the shop service truck waiting for the light to turn green

Approaching from the other side of the hwy was a convoy of Trump supporters.

At the head of the convoy was a six wheeled decommissioned military transport vehicle

A large Trump flag on the side

In tow... hundreds of vehicles. All flying Trump flags and banners. Cars. Trucks. RV's. Jacked up diesel pick-up trucks with deleted emission systems "rolling coal"...

Lights flashing
Honking

Then... the attack on the Capitol

And I think... "What is causing them to think that what they think... is good?"

And I think this as a white male. A rural living, blue-collar working, gun and property owning white male

And I think about times talking to my therapist. A man who lived in Turkey and travelled throughout the Middle East before the caliphate and sharia law. How progressive it was with the West. Music. Fashion. Beautiful middle eastern women in bikinis... and then...

And then what it is now.

And that all was what me got to thinking about what I previously posted.

Reality of what is now as we know it is goddamn fragile.
 
I remember getting my first tattoo.

I remember the feel of the needle
The injection of ink into my body
The euphoric rush
The chill intimate conversation between me and the guy doing it.

It was all before tattoos became a boutique type experience.

I remember going in alone
Making no mention of it.
Just myself and a thought of what I wanted.

And I got it
And it was done
And as I drove home
The transmitters responsible for my euphoria dumped out and I was left with this stupid thing on my body. Forever.

Yes... I could get it lasered off. But I can never go back to my body having never been tattooed. Of going back to never not knowing what that experience was like.

And it's a weird thing you know? A thing where there was no regret. But yet... still a thing.
 
There's a thread over there in the fetish and sexuality forum asking guys how many women they've fucked.

I'm skeptical of the answers to such questions. But then what do I know. Perhaps 65-100+ different women is attainable in the bigger cities and for those who travel.

The thought of having to (having a want to) fuck that many people causes my feelings to feel empty inside.
 
I want to fuck the kind of woman that wears gloss white nail polish.
 
I am one star in the night sky
I allow myself to get lost in the numbers.
 
There is a photo

She is sitting
In front of me

I am completely naked
Crouching on my knees
Legs spread
Straddling her

My back is to the camera

I am really naked
The cheeks of my ass are spread
If it were not for the shadow
My asshole would be exposed

I am holding her
My right hand on her shoulder
My left look to be touching her face

The only thing you can see of her
Are her feet between mine
Below my ass

Her toenails are painted red
The same color as her thong

Her hands are clasping my hips
Her fingers grabbing my flesh
Squeezing
Holding me steady
Holding me tightly
Pulling me toward her

I can still feel their purpose
Just as I can of her shin against my cock
...and slack balls

The inside of my thighs
Against the outside of hers

The skin of her
Warm
Wet

I am poised up
Looking down at her

She is looking up at me

There is an intimacy to this photograph
A secrecy


I am not entirely sure
What to do with it

Where to place it
 
His hand around her throat
Her back against his chest
His lips brushing the back of her earlobe as he spoke. She wished she had said No when he asked her if she wanted an orgasm.

Was it even a choice?
Would he have not done what he did to her had she told him?
Would he have let her go home?
Back to her bed to play out the night however she wanted to? Safe and alone?

So no
She didn't say no
She wasn't afforded the luxury to say anything but "Yes"

And so she did
And with her throat still in the grasp of his hand and her back still held tight to her chest he shoved his free hand down the front of her body and began fingering her.

Nothing about him was gentle.
And though she was wet
The act felt dry
His skin felt rough and calloused over
And his finger felt big
Like an actual dick
And he penetrated her
Hooking it as a contentious lover would
Against her pubic bone just past where she pissed from and he rubbed her hard smashing her clit up against the inside curve of his finger and she tried to think which finger it was as his hand cupped her pussy rubbing the whole works labia and all until she felt his finger slide out and begin circling her asshole as his choking hand began lifting her up by her neck.



Tippy-toed she struggled to breath as His finger tip found it's way just inside her asshole

Thoughts of wondering if she properly wiped filled her head along with why he wanted to do that to her... why he had to add that in... why he didn't care. Followed by the dread of the impending bladder infection she was sure to get feeling his finger slide back into her vagina.

She fought the sloshing sounds of her body but they couldn't be silenced behind the rainbows edge of a feeling she was beginning to feel.


Her clenched closed eyes screamed inside her head as the ferocity of his actions increased
His hands a blur between the gusset of her panties and the nakedness of her crotch.

Lost with that in her head
She wasn't aware of the dwindling supply of blood reaching her brain
Nor that of air reaching her lungs

She was all too aware of that edge of elation that was creeping up on her
And that's where her fight was
That's what she didn't want to give him
But yet as she might she couldn't keep him from winning and just at the crest of the crashing wave she opened her eye to the fading light of tunnel vision and she was out. Falling to the ground like a dead sack of open potatoes. Feeling his slimy wet hand slide up her abdomen leaving a quickly cooling trail of her own fucksnot across it.

And for a second
In that darkness of no sound... no feeling
There was a floating sense of peace
Of which she didnt want to leave

But the pounding red of blood rushing to her brain brought her out of it and back into a body far lost in the throws of the most violent orgasm she had ever experienced in her life.
 
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He felt the pulse of her heart
In his hand
Around her throat

The heat of her body
Through her back
Against his chest

She pressed against him
And swallowed

He breathed her in
The scent of her shampoo
Her perfume
The night out
All together
Mixing with her soft sweat and skin

She felt small against him
Beautiful against him
And he felt strong against her
Masculine
Wealthy within himself
And something of purpose

He pressed his face along the side of her neck

His hand on her abdomen
His lips just touching the back of her earlobe he whispered... Do you want an orgasm?
 
There was no hesitation when she said yes

His hand slid smooth and swift under the fabric of her panties

Her crotch was already wet with what he wanted and shoved a finger in without struggle or resistance

Her clit had become erect and he followed what he could of it's root across her pubic bone gliding the full length of his finger across everything

The hood of her clit
Her clit
Her urethra
Her g-spot

Her flesh was wet
Slack
Spongy soft
And her whole body felt as though she had melted against him

He withdrew his finger to cup her pussy and feel the full totality of it in his hand

He pushed further down her crotch
And with the inside of his wrist mashing her clit against her his finger slid across her asshole.

It tightened
Clenched
Then relaxed as he used her own lubricant to lube up his finger

The pad of his finger felt the opening of her asshole
He pressed in
And she began to slide down

He tightened his grip around her throat and began lifting her up causing her back to arch across his chest

He looked down her body
Her breasts pressed against the fabric of her blouse and he wanted to grab a hold of her collar and rip her shirt open exposing her tit for his eyes to see and his mouth to want to suck

Instead he just increased the squeeze of her throat in his hand

He slid his finger back inside her. Then another finger.

The gushing wetness of her body embolden his sense of correctness and success. He continued to violently finger her with reckless abandon squeezing her throat, feeling her fading pulse, her shallow breath, her increasingly ridged body

She attempted raise a hand up to grasp the one grabbing her throat but before she could he saw in the periphery of his own vision her eyes open up and roll back

Her arm dropped like a dead idiot back to her side. The whole of her went limp and began spasming. He held onto her content in his success. Then let her slide out of his possession and onto the ground.
 
Currently 12°F and feeling quite balmy.

Texas is a shit show I guess.

Seeing a lot of dumbass "oh Texas is getting snow and cold weather? Hold my beer..." type memes on my social accounts.

I find them pretty fucking dumb and arrogant. I'm no angel. I've said some dumb shit to build myself and make me feel stronger, better adept, etc...

Fact remains "Sucks" is fucking universal. No matter where you are geographically or whatever tax bracket you were born into.


That said... that whole GameStop thing that went on some weeks ago was pretty goddamn fucking hilarious.
 
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