y=mx+b
___________
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Yes.
My love for her
Is unforgiving
It will not let me go
And it will not let me let her go
Desultory and Impulsive
- Thread starter y=mx+b
- Start date
Yes.
My love for her
Is unforgiving
It will not let me go
And it will not let me let her go
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
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Scissor swept sinister sex
Soundly sensual
Seeking social associations
To subvert sinking solutions
Towards resolve and resolution
Resistant to wearing what one wears
When one is warring weary wonders
Working out what wasn't once was
Awash in watery eyes insistent in seeing
Emotion evolve from far away
Awake in eager avarice and arrogant enmity
Okay eating endive enticing elation out of open flowers
Flowing far from the field from where I stand soundlessly breathing
By way of bound blinded bonds bidden broken bellows blowing
Flames far away from family and famine familiar to the flesh
So sodden with sweat and switch swats
Searing a slightly sober mind down drunk in a gutter guided
By what is wished to be washed away by a want for
Something other than what is had at hand
Without an outside view veering us off to teeter with a teething kind of lurid lust
Lasting well within an intent to...
To what I think?
Soundly sensual
Seeking social associations
To subvert sinking solutions
Towards resolve and resolution
Resistant to wearing what one wears
When one is warring weary wonders
Working out what wasn't once was
Awash in watery eyes insistent in seeing
Emotion evolve from far away
Awake in eager avarice and arrogant enmity
Okay eating endive enticing elation out of open flowers
Flowing far from the field from where I stand soundlessly breathing
By way of bound blinded bonds bidden broken bellows blowing
Flames far away from family and famine familiar to the flesh
So sodden with sweat and switch swats
Searing a slightly sober mind down drunk in a gutter guided
By what is wished to be washed away by a want for
Something other than what is had at hand
Without an outside view veering us off to teeter with a teething kind of lurid lust
Lasting well within an intent to...
To what I think?
y=mx+b
___________
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- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
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No more nothing but this
There is that of course
But that isn't now is it
No
Now is not
What was once
Once
Where we could walk
Hand in hand
Thought in thought
Lips against flesh
In the rain swept seduction
Of our salt plain bodies
Harvesting hard wanted words
Spoken in such ways that didn't hurt
But were healing
Healing of the hurt that had once been
And still was
In thoughts that couldn't be let go
Not by one's self anyway
So we found stones
Rocks
Little mementos
Music
That could be held in our hands
Rubbing hard surfaces into sand
Smoothing out the rough edges
Until they were all forgotten
And it was all
All just us
Looking into each other
Touching each other
Having a knowledge
Of having to say goodbye
At some point
That always came close
But never really appeared
Until it was too late
And we all found ourselves without
Without that warm touch
Where we could be safe
Safe with each other
With our eyes closed
Our thoughts empty
Our wants unbridled
And we could love without fear
Of rejection
Feeling so accepting of everything
Because everything we wanted
Was in our arms
Already weakened
For having already carried so much
For so long.
There is that of course
But that isn't now is it
No
Now is not
What was once
Once
Where we could walk
Hand in hand
Thought in thought
Lips against flesh
In the rain swept seduction
Of our salt plain bodies
Harvesting hard wanted words
Spoken in such ways that didn't hurt
But were healing
Healing of the hurt that had once been
And still was
In thoughts that couldn't be let go
Not by one's self anyway
So we found stones
Rocks
Little mementos
Music
That could be held in our hands
Rubbing hard surfaces into sand
Smoothing out the rough edges
Until they were all forgotten
And it was all
All just us
Looking into each other
Touching each other
Having a knowledge
Of having to say goodbye
At some point
That always came close
But never really appeared
Until it was too late
And we all found ourselves without
Without that warm touch
Where we could be safe
Safe with each other
With our eyes closed
Our thoughts empty
Our wants unbridled
And we could love without fear
Of rejection
Feeling so accepting of everything
Because everything we wanted
Was in our arms
Already weakened
For having already carried so much
For so long.
Last edited:
y=mx+b
___________
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- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
He watched her
He had seen her in passing
Without having given her much thought
What struck him
Was how she carried herself
How she took up the space where she stood
It wasn't so much that she took up space
But rather
That space took her up
She was the kind of woman
Who looked as though she belonged
No matter where she was
He had seen her in passing
Without having given her much thought
What struck him
Was how she carried herself
How she took up the space where she stood
It wasn't so much that she took up space
But rather
That space took her up
She was the kind of woman
Who looked as though she belonged
No matter where she was
y=mx+b
___________
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- Jul 1, 2003
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- 25,630
She envied her friend
She envied her friend like she envied watching her sister's childbirth.
The sweat and screaming
The lack of any say
It happening
It all just happening
Stretching and ripping of flesh
The pain
The rush of endorphins
The lust of the body's wish to survive
Doing every biological thing to shut fear down in the brain
Pumping elation into that of her sister
And complacent ragdoll numbness into that of her roommate
She wanted to experience both
She wanted it all so badly and so badly in such a way no erotic story or amount of self flagellation would ever be able to provide for her.
She wanted her cunt ripped open by someone ever so eagerly dependant upon it
Dependant upon it for their pleasure
And their survival.
She envied her friend like she envied watching her sister's childbirth.
The sweat and screaming
The lack of any say
It happening
It all just happening
Stretching and ripping of flesh
The pain
The rush of endorphins
The lust of the body's wish to survive
Doing every biological thing to shut fear down in the brain
Pumping elation into that of her sister
And complacent ragdoll numbness into that of her roommate
She wanted to experience both
She wanted it all so badly and so badly in such a way no erotic story or amount of self flagellation would ever be able to provide for her.
She wanted her cunt ripped open by someone ever so eagerly dependant upon it
Dependant upon it for their pleasure
And their survival.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
I hate it when I think of something worthwhile to post while I am in the shower only to not really give a shit about it as I get settled into bed.
I'm actually tired of thinking and writing and I have no interest in photographing myself at all any more so I'm going to quit until whenever I feel like coming back in a day or never again.
Take care.
I'm actually tired of thinking and writing and I have no interest in photographing myself at all any more so I'm going to quit until whenever I feel like coming back in a day or never again.
Take care.
Last edited:
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
I must confess...
There is something so... grounding about laying next to a woman.
I love how
Even the nights I lay frustratingly awake
A world of rapidly vacillating liquid emotional thoughts
Purging themselves out from the dark cauldron below within me--all I have to do
...is slide a leg over
An arm...
...and I'm touching her
And when I touch her
I am with her
In a --here-- where I want to be
A familiarity that was always there
Before I even knew that it was
And when I touch her
I fall back into all that
When I think of her at work
When I come home
And when she comes home
And how we are together
--every night
It is almost as if we are two Earths
Comfortable in our own company
Our own silence
Breathing together
When she used to work nightshift full time
She would come home finding me sleeping sideways across the bed
We had a California king sized bed at the time
Sometimes my head would be where my feet would be
With my feet under the pillows where my head should be
Sometimes
A couple times
I would manage to somehow make my way
Under the fitted sheet
She seldom works night shift these days
The nights that she does
Have come to be kind of a treat
Because--hey... let's be honest here sometimes it's nice to have the bed all to yourself
No matter...
The second night
My body begins to search
And she comes home
And I find myself waking up
Laying diagonally across the bed
It's weird
A beautiful weird
We've never crowded the other out
There's never been a time in my life either one of us were like, "I love you... but I need you to go away for a few days."
An 8-12hr workshift is long enough it seems.
It's weird
It's always been like this
And it's always been so... wonderful
Even when it hasn't
Even when the picture doesn't appear how it should
The pieces of our puzzles have always just... fit.
There is something so... grounding about laying next to a woman.
I love how
Even the nights I lay frustratingly awake
A world of rapidly vacillating liquid emotional thoughts
Purging themselves out from the dark cauldron below within me--all I have to do
...is slide a leg over
An arm...
...and I'm touching her
And when I touch her
I am with her
In a --here-- where I want to be
A familiarity that was always there
Before I even knew that it was
And when I touch her
I fall back into all that
When I think of her at work
When I come home
And when she comes home
And how we are together
--every night
It is almost as if we are two Earths
Comfortable in our own company
Our own silence
Breathing together
When she used to work nightshift full time
She would come home finding me sleeping sideways across the bed
We had a California king sized bed at the time
Sometimes my head would be where my feet would be
With my feet under the pillows where my head should be
Sometimes
A couple times
I would manage to somehow make my way
Under the fitted sheet
She seldom works night shift these days
The nights that she does
Have come to be kind of a treat
Because--hey... let's be honest here sometimes it's nice to have the bed all to yourself
No matter...
The second night
My body begins to search
And she comes home
And I find myself waking up
Laying diagonally across the bed
It's weird
A beautiful weird
We've never crowded the other out
There's never been a time in my life either one of us were like, "I love you... but I need you to go away for a few days."
An 8-12hr workshift is long enough it seems.
It's weird
It's always been like this
And it's always been so... wonderful
Even when it hasn't
Even when the picture doesn't appear how it should
The pieces of our puzzles have always just... fit.
y=mx+b
___________
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- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
Whomever this wise man was
I can only but deduce
That he was specifically
Talking about you.
And I must say that his assertion was spot-fucking-on.
y=mx+b
___________
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- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
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This has been something I've been pondering.
But first of all, thank you.
I find myself wishing to come to the aid of those that don't by minimizing the kind of relationship and the experiences therein that I have with my wife by saying some dumb shit like it's not all what it's cracked up to be, that there's a give and take
But ah.... fuck it, I'm not going to.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
I hate having the drive to write
And having nothing and no one to write about.
It's like a reverse writer's block of some sort
Like having the dry heaves
I can write
And I will write
But nothing of interest
Or worth anyone's while to read is going to come out
It's the stupidest shit
I actually hate writing
I hate this stream-of-consciousness imaginative thinking all the more
But I don't seem to have a choice in the matter
I hate the characters in my head
I hate their thoughts and wants
I hate feeling their love, lust, fear, and anger
I hate feeling so fucking goddamn much
But most of all--I hate being so unable to let go.
Just to be able to let go
God that would be great.
And having nothing and no one to write about.
It's like a reverse writer's block of some sort
Like having the dry heaves
I can write
And I will write
But nothing of interest
Or worth anyone's while to read is going to come out
It's the stupidest shit
I actually hate writing
I hate this stream-of-consciousness imaginative thinking all the more
But I don't seem to have a choice in the matter
I hate the characters in my head
I hate their thoughts and wants
I hate feeling their love, lust, fear, and anger
I hate feeling so fucking goddamn much
But most of all--I hate being so unable to let go.
Just to be able to let go
God that would be great.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
It was raining
RAINING!
And he was out there
On the shore of the pond
Skipping stones
She was out there too
Huddled in a parka
Sitting on the top of a picnic table
The sun beaten waterlogged planks
Warped
Her knees tight together
Pulled up against her chest
Her hair was mostly dry
Except that which stuck out of the hood of her parka
The wet tendrils framed her face just as you are imagining it
She was cold
And she wanted to go home
But not to where she lived
She wanted to go home with him
She wanted that calm quiet of being wrapped in a blanket
As though she were little once again.
With the rain drops hitting the water it was difficult to watch the stone skip across the surface
But every once in awhile she could see it skip then skitter then fade, falling away into a never that was oddly comforting to observe happen. It was like looking up at the stars content with being so small then having a shooting star glide across the ocean of black quiet--feeling that elation that can't be fought off even during the saddest of moments in life
They were the only two people there
They were the only two people in the world
And she found herself falling in love with such a thought.
RAINING!
And he was out there
On the shore of the pond
Skipping stones
She was out there too
Huddled in a parka
Sitting on the top of a picnic table
The sun beaten waterlogged planks
Warped
Her knees tight together
Pulled up against her chest
Her hair was mostly dry
Except that which stuck out of the hood of her parka
The wet tendrils framed her face just as you are imagining it
She was cold
And she wanted to go home
But not to where she lived
She wanted to go home with him
She wanted that calm quiet of being wrapped in a blanket
As though she were little once again.
With the rain drops hitting the water it was difficult to watch the stone skip across the surface
But every once in awhile she could see it skip then skitter then fade, falling away into a never that was oddly comforting to observe happen. It was like looking up at the stars content with being so small then having a shooting star glide across the ocean of black quiet--feeling that elation that can't be fought off even during the saddest of moments in life
They were the only two people there
They were the only two people in the world
And she found herself falling in love with such a thought.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
I confess...
I like using my wife's body to masturbate with.
No kissing
No nothing
Just laying on top of her
With my fingers clasped along the top of her head
My forearms pressing against the outside of her upper arms
Squeezing them into her body so she cannot move them... or fight.
Just 5 minutes of pure solid fucking.
Bam. Done. Off to work and out the door.
I like using my wife's body to masturbate with.
No kissing
No nothing
Just laying on top of her
With my fingers clasped along the top of her head
My forearms pressing against the outside of her upper arms
Squeezing them into her body so she cannot move them... or fight.
Just 5 minutes of pure solid fucking.
Bam. Done. Off to work and out the door.
Corbal
Cereal Killer
- Joined
- Jun 8, 2010
- Posts
- 27,281
I need more specifics. What day, exactly? Thanks in advance.
y=mx+b
___________
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- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
In maybe about 10 minutes.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,630
Why I Like Going Down On My Wife. By y=mx+b
I like going down on my wife because she is pretty.
Yes that is vague I know
But she is
I like going down on her
Because it makes me feel closer to her
Closer in many ways
I get to study her
I get to see how what I do
Changes her
I like going down on her
Because to her--it's almost therapeutic
At least it seems that way sometimes
I like going down on her
Because as things progress
I like to see what all I can get away with
Mention "fisting"
And she will shudder
But it has happened
Ask her if she'd like to experience what it would feel like
To have three fingers and a thumb
Spread her asshole open like speculum
She will roll her eyes at your audacity to ask
But it has happened
--and she got off
Like going down on her
Because of who she is
And what she means to me
I love her
And I love watching her get lost in herself
I love how wet she gets and how she doesn't care
I love how the sloshing sounds of my finger rubbing and pressing up against her G-spot
--gets her going all the more
I love feeling the orgasmic contractions of her asshole around my pinky
As I thrust it into her
As I lick her
As the thumb and forefinger of my other hand pinch and pull and twist the nipple of her breast
I love throwing my shoulder into the back of her thigh as her body goes into it's orgasmic rigor
I love going down on her
Because she loves it when I do.
I like going down on my wife because she is pretty.
Yes that is vague I know
But she is
I like going down on her
Because it makes me feel closer to her
Closer in many ways
I get to study her
I get to see how what I do
Changes her
I like going down on her
Because to her--it's almost therapeutic
At least it seems that way sometimes
I like going down on her
Because as things progress
I like to see what all I can get away with
Mention "fisting"
And she will shudder
But it has happened
Ask her if she'd like to experience what it would feel like
To have three fingers and a thumb
Spread her asshole open like speculum
She will roll her eyes at your audacity to ask
But it has happened
--and she got off
Like going down on her
Because of who she is
And what she means to me
I love her
And I love watching her get lost in herself
I love how wet she gets and how she doesn't care
I love how the sloshing sounds of my finger rubbing and pressing up against her G-spot
--gets her going all the more
I love feeling the orgasmic contractions of her asshole around my pinky
As I thrust it into her
As I lick her
As the thumb and forefinger of my other hand pinch and pull and twist the nipple of her breast
I love throwing my shoulder into the back of her thigh as her body goes into it's orgasmic rigor
I love going down on her
Because she loves it when I do.
