Desultory and Impulsive
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y=mx+b
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Whenever I reach out to touch
She is there
...but yet she isn't
She is like an echo
A hollow substance
Spoken words heard by the ear
But no longer understood by the mind
And my heart strains to hear her
And longs to skip a beat
Like it once did
Like a stone
Skipping across the glass surface
Of a still
Quiet lake
Blanketed by the fog of morning.
She is there
...but yet she isn't
She is like an echo
A hollow substance
Spoken words heard by the ear
But no longer understood by the mind
And my heart strains to hear her
And longs to skip a beat
Like it once did
Like a stone
Skipping across the glass surface
Of a still
Quiet lake
Blanketed by the fog of morning.
Mustang Sally
Wanna go for a ride?
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I love these lines.
Shadows and thoughts just out of reach.
Is everyone haunted by such things?
y=mx+b
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y=mx+b
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Haunted by such things that is.
Pretty sure everyone are people. At least up until they are dead.
We could probably split hairs as to what "everyone" all entails. But fuck that. Keep it simple fuckers. I have neither interest nor the time to do so.
Pretty sure everyone are people. At least up until they are dead.
We could probably split hairs as to what "everyone" all entails. But fuck that. Keep it simple fuckers. I have neither interest nor the time to do so.
MilkFountain
Literotica Guru
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Yes, that's part of the human condition. Memory changes over time, especially each time a memory is called up, re-experienced, examined, thought about, and then tucked away again. What emergers the next time is different than 1. the original circumstances (event): 2. the perception of what happened; 3. the memory the first time the event is recalled, and; 3. when details--real or imagined--are "remembered," added to the mental-emotional narrative. Fantasies, imagined, dreamed, and made real, constantly go through recasting, refurbishment, and adjustment because of who they are related to.
MilkFountain
Literotica Guru
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Yes, that's part of the human condition. Memory changes over time, especially each time a memory is called up, re-experienced, examined, thought about, and then tucked away again. What emergers the next time is different than 1. the original circumstances (event): 2. the perception of what happened; 3. the memory the first time the event is recalled, and; 3. when details--real or imagined--are "remembered," added to the mental-emotional narrative. Fantasies, imagined, dreamed, and made real, constantly go through recasting, refurbishment, and adjustment because of who they are related to.
y=mx+b
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Nobody needs me to fall in love with them anymore
To be in love with them
To hear me tell them how I miss them
How I long to be with them
Nobody needs me to touch them like I once did
Or to look at them
And hold them steady behind my eyes
My touch
The sound of my voice
The heat of my body
Needn't be spoken of
None of it
Need be shared
Need be known
Need be experienced
My fall need not be felt
By anyone
Ever again.
To be in love with them
To hear me tell them how I miss them
How I long to be with them
Nobody needs me to touch them like I once did
Or to look at them
And hold them steady behind my eyes
My touch
The sound of my voice
The heat of my body
Needn't be spoken of
None of it
Need be shared
Need be known
Need be experienced
My fall need not be felt
By anyone
Ever again.
y=mx+b
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Sometimes my mind gets to day dreaming...
and I found it wandering around the idea of restrictive diets and how I would enjoy to impose such a diet upon a woman where she were only allowed to consume ejaculate.
Except that of mine.
I would take great pleasure watching her fall into desperation ultimately seeking out what nourishment she could find from whatever source possible.
and I found it wandering around the idea of restrictive diets and how I would enjoy to impose such a diet upon a woman where she were only allowed to consume ejaculate.
Except that of mine.
I would take great pleasure watching her fall into desperation ultimately seeking out what nourishment she could find from whatever source possible.
Last edited:
y=mx+b
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At first glance I thought he was dragging a shaving razor over her nipple.
https://78.media.tumblr.com/4a25d3d58d17ba86b9d1a76d6b5d5fc3/tumblr_p19vvtJ50O1rc7gxqo1_500.gif
For the sake of living vicariously
I find myself wishing that he was.
https://78.media.tumblr.com/4a25d3d58d17ba86b9d1a76d6b5d5fc3/tumblr_p19vvtJ50O1rc7gxqo1_500.gif
For the sake of living vicariously
I find myself wishing that he was.
y=mx+b
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I keep thinking
"Help"
She said.
I looked at her with a detached indifference.
There once was a time that when I did so, I did so for the sake of maintaining a manifestation of appearing cool and aloof in spite of being far from it.
It was a mechanism you see.
People come. People go. Pets die. Parents die.
Life goes on
No matter who is in it
Or who is out of it.
"Help"
She said.
I looked at her with a detached indifference.
There once was a time that when I did so, I did so for the sake of maintaining a manifestation of appearing cool and aloof in spite of being far from it.
It was a mechanism you see.
People come. People go. Pets die. Parents die.
Life goes on
No matter who is in it
Or who is out of it.
y=mx+b
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This is not to say that I didn't want to touch her
To help her
To feel the softness of her hair
Brush up against my lips
And inhale the scent of it
Because I did.
I did
Because I wanted to feel that escape
She was so capable of providing me
Cool
...and aloof.
I told myself
I no longer cared.
To help her
To feel the softness of her hair
Brush up against my lips
And inhale the scent of it
Because I did.
I did
Because I wanted to feel that escape
She was so capable of providing me
Cool
...and aloof.
I told myself
I no longer cared.
y=mx+b
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I would like to stand behind you quietly and in the dark
Holding a length of rope
Watching you look for that someone to fill in
How I've come to make you feel
Studying your breathing
Observing the pulse of your neck push out from along the length of your neck with every beat of your heart
Wondering
How you would go about
Not letting me touch you
When it came time
For me to do just that.
Holding a length of rope
Watching you look for that someone to fill in
How I've come to make you feel
Studying your breathing
Observing the pulse of your neck push out from along the length of your neck with every beat of your heart
Wondering
How you would go about
Not letting me touch you
When it came time
For me to do just that.
y=mx+b
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I used to write her letters
I can't say I really remember what I really wrote about
No matter
I used to write things
And thoughts
And what-nots
At one point
--at the height of my delusion and before she turned vanilla the thought of ejaculating on a blank page of paper, letting it dry, then using it as one of the pages of my letter to her, crossed my mind.
I thought about how I wouldn't mention anything about it in my letter. About how the letter would just be a normal everyday type letter all up until the last page where I would go into explicit detail of my thoughts and actions, confessing what I had done a few pages back--ending it with how if she where to ever want to taste me or feel my ejaculate up inside her--she would know what to do.
I can't say I really remember what I really wrote about
No matter
I used to write things
And thoughts
And what-nots
At one point
--at the height of my delusion and before she turned vanilla the thought of ejaculating on a blank page of paper, letting it dry, then using it as one of the pages of my letter to her, crossed my mind.
I thought about how I wouldn't mention anything about it in my letter. About how the letter would just be a normal everyday type letter all up until the last page where I would go into explicit detail of my thoughts and actions, confessing what I had done a few pages back--ending it with how if she where to ever want to taste me or feel my ejaculate up inside her--she would know what to do.
y=mx+b
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Something I kinda get a kick out of
We live in the country
So when I'm outside and have to take a piss
I whip it out and take a piss.
It's awesome!
And if I'm outside
So is my dog
And every once in awhile my dog will be near, see what I'm doing, will saunter over and join me in pissing on whatever it was that I was pissing on and it's always like "yeah... fuck this rock. This rock is OURS! Fuck this tire. This tire is OURS..."
We live in the country
So when I'm outside and have to take a piss
I whip it out and take a piss.
It's awesome!
And if I'm outside
So is my dog
And every once in awhile my dog will be near, see what I'm doing, will saunter over and join me in pissing on whatever it was that I was pissing on and it's always like "yeah... fuck this rock. This rock is OURS! Fuck this tire. This tire is OURS..."
