Desultory and Impulsive

[y=mx+b]

I just got home

On my drive home
I saw a brief flash of lighting
Light up a far off sky

I stood outside my car
The air was cool
--yet warm, quiet, still
And sweet to the scent

The croak of frogs
The only sound

Now
Inside I sit
Listening to the rain

Thinking.

 

[Misshotndeep]

I just got home

On my drive home
I saw a brief flash of lighting
Light up a far off sky

I stood outside my car
The air was cool
--yet warm, quiet, still
And sweet to the scent

The croak of frogs
The only sound

Now
Inside I sit
Listening to the rain

Thinking.

The calm before the storm. It is a peaceful place. Sometimes the storm is just as nice. Depends on one's perspective.

 

[y=mx+b]

Just...

 

[Sexybritches69]

Just...

Umm...yes. Just. And then some.

 

[y=mx+b]

Back before I went silent
I wrote you something.

It was violent
And about strangling.

I went into detail
About strands of your hair
And gasping for air

I talked about the pliable nature
Of your neck

How your trachea felt in my grasp
The ebb and flow of your pulse

...that dance between the carotid artery
and jugular vein

The subtle stop
Between the steps

I wrote about increasing the squeeze
Of my grasp
Between those two dance steps
And feeling the strain of blood
Increase
And push through

You...
Being so concerned
About your breathing
That your fear
Knows not
The struggle of your heart
Nor the starvation
Of your brain

And me...
Watching your eyes
Looking at them
Waiting for them
To see the stars I wish to give you

And feel you
Fall limp
Into that sweet
Dark
Weightlessness
Of feeling
Nothing.

 

[y=mx+b]

I don’t fucking care if you take my last breath? That’s what I need answered.

Then that's okay.
I am completely okay with that
I accept you for who you are; what you like, and what you don't like.

And I accept that you don't need my acceptance. Should you feel that you do for some reason or another, you shouldn't. And if you don't already, excellent.

 

[y=mx+b]

As I cleaned the toilet
I imagined her lips
Kissing the rim of it

The cold white porcelain of it
Touching up against her

Telling her mouth to make love to it


I imagined
Her hair in the grasp of my fist
The ends of it
Floating on the surface of the water
Wicking what it did
Before sinking below the surface.

I thought about her face in the bowl of it
Inches away from getting wet
Asking her if she could smell the cold wet of it
Holding her there
Telling her to drink from it
Pushing her face deeper in
Until her lips just touched the surface
Shoving my knee into her crotch
Tipping her forward
Using my strength and leverage to keep her there
Fishing my cock out from the fly of my jeans

Her thrashing
Her drowning
Making me all the harder
Causing my cock to rage with the anger
My body had
For the want to feel her throat
Swallow my semen
Just as desperately as she did that
Of the water in the toilet

Pulling her wet-haired sloppy-whore face
So my imagination thought...
...to my cock

Feeling her fight
And cough
And choke for breath

Holding her there
Hair in my fist
Slapping her hard

Hard hot wet slapping of her face
Shaking her coughing gagging head by her hair

My cock pushing hard against her lips
Her jaw clenched tight
Fighting me
Fighting my assault

Taking hold of my dick
Slapping her face with it
Shaking her head more and more
Harder and harder
Calling her
My little toilet bowl whore.

 

[Misshotndeep]

As I cleaned the toilet
I imagined her lips
Kissing the rim of it

The cold white porcelain of it
Touching up against her

Telling her mouth to make love to it


I imagined
Her hair in the grasp of my fist
The ends of it
Floating on the surface of the water
Wicking what it did
Before sinking below the surface.

I thought about her face in the bowl of it
Inches away from getting wet
Asking her if she could smell the cold wet of it
Holding her there
Telling her to drink from it
Pushing her face deeper in
Until her lips just touched the surface
Shoving my knee into her crotch
Tipping her forward
Using my strength and leverage to keep her there
Fishing my cock out from the fly of my jeans

Her thrashing
Her drowning
Making me all the harder
Causing my cock to rage with the anger
My body had
For the want to feel her throat
Swallow my semen
Just as desperately as she did that
Of the water in the toilet

Pulling her wet-haired sloppy-whore face
So my imagination thought...
...to my cock

Feeling her fight
And cough
And choke for breath

Holding her there
Hair in my fist
Slapping her hard

Hard hot wet slapping of her face
Shaking her coughing gagging head by her hair

My cock pushing hard against her lips
Her jaw clenched tight
Fighting me
Fighting my assault

Taking hold of my dick
Slapping her face with it
Shaking her head more and more
Harder and harder
Calling her
My little toilet bowl whore.

Sometimes it sounds like you really hate her. You just want to hamiliate and hurt her to please yourself and it does nothing for her. That is very very scary to read.

 

[y=mx+b]

Perhaps I'm not writing about her.

Perhaps I am writing for those that wish they were the her that I am writing about.

And perhaps they; in their silence, are feeling, "fuck... thank you."

Are those who do just as scary as I am in their wants and desires as I am for giving them something to hold onto between their eyes and quietly in their chest?

 

[y=mx+b]

And so my mind was racing when he said there were only seven of them. One of which was a spider.

 

[y=mx+b]

I find my mind wandering
Fighting between fiction, fantasy, and feelings.

No one thing is winning
It's all fractured
All my words and thoughts...
Trying to follow one
Is like trying to follow light reflected off a mirrored ball
On the floor and across the wall

It's maddening
Because it's all there
Wanting to be vomited out
In the most beautiful of ways

She told me not to be silent.

 

[y=mx+b]

Breeding in captivity

 

[Moochienanu]

Breeding in captivity

I like this one (not my first time enjoying it). Device bondage is so intriguing... perhaps since I haven’t experienced it yet. I really like the look some women get in deep subspace: so glazed and gone.

 

[y=mx+b]

I like this one (not my first time enjoying it). Device bondage is so intriguing... perhaps since I haven’t experienced it yet. I really like the look some women get in deep subspace: so glazed and gone.

Yes!

 

[y=mx+b]

I told her of my persistently reoccurring dirty thought about licking her asshole.

It's one of those sleeper thoughts that randomly sneak in

And then I'm stuck
Fixated by this want of knowing what she feels like against my tongue.

And this want... it's more than just something sexual.

It's an intimacy
A memory I wish to have a knowledge about

And I find myself feeling angry in a longing goddamnit kind of way.

I'm thinking about it now
Clothed and hard
Sitting on the couch
Having just finished eating my post-work nightly bowl of cereal

And I want her here now
Bent over on her hands and knees on the floor

I want to see her like that
And I want to...

I just fucking want to.

 

[y=mx+b]

Even now
After my shower.

And I don't want to do it
As a form of foreplay.

I want it to be the sex
The moment of sex
The enjoyment of sex
Sex without expectation or end

Just she
Feeling me
Paying attention to her
And to her parts
Studying her
Loving her
Being with her
On her
Around her
Circling
And across.

 

[y=mx+b]

She shared herself with me
Because I asked for her
To do so

And she did
And I saw her

And I looked at her
Lay there
With legs parted
Labia exposed

Her life... exposed

And I looked at her
Studied her
Contemplated her

And in my contemplation
I wondered
What my touch
Would do for her

Was it that what she wanted
Or was it my company of quiet
And contentment
Just to be there
With her
Laying bare

I resolved not to say much else to her
Not to share my thoughts
Or express my wishes to act
And press myself upon her

Instead
I let my inaction project an indifference
With regards to her
And her body

And I watched her squirm
Fidget
And I waited
For that uncomfortable
Feeling of shame
To bubble up from her childhood
Of wondering why she was like that
Why she was so eager to be open like she was
Towards those
Expressing the slightest
Wish
To see

And I watched her become smaller and smaller
To this point of an inability to maintain any meaningful semblance of eye contact

Fulfilling my wish

To feel that moment
Of her
Wanting me
To take her up in my arms
And make those feelings my eyes made her feel
Go away.

 

[Moochienanu]

You have a gift
Of saying so much
Without words.

 

[y=mx+b]

I want to bottle feed her.

Not with a baby bottle
Not one for humans anyway.

I want to bottle feed her
With a bottle
Used for feeding baby calves.

 

[y=mx+b]

But she doesn't need me in that kind of capacity

What she needs
Is for me
To be as I can be for her.

And I will try

 

[y=mx+b]

I've been thinking about you.

It's raining out today
Things still need to get done

I will be thinking about you as I do them

I will be thinking about how nature smells on your body


And how it would taste.

 

[y=mx+b]

I'd bite into you

I'd bite into you just enough to almost break through your skin
And I'd stop and hold it there
Right on the verge of my teeth cutting into you
Sinking into you
Ripping into you
Drawing blood out of your body
Tasting you against my tongue
The warmth of you sliding down into my throat

I'd bite into you.

 

[Misshotndeep]

I'd bite into you just enough to almost break through your skin
And I'd stop and hold it there
Right on the verge of my teeth cutting into you
Sinking into you
Ripping into you
Drawing blood out of your body
Tasting you against my tongue
The warmth of you sliding down into my throat

I'd bite into you.

That would be a “purrr” moment. So hot!

 

[y=mx+b]

when the connection is lost...

there's a certain freedom

there's also a certain fear.


like pulling up the rope to the anchor of your boat
pulling it up through the water
feeling how little resistance there is
upon the realization
that the anchor
has been
lost



the "oh shit..."
and the "OH SHIT!!!"

which one is better?

the freedom to drift as you please?
no accountability to any one spot?


or
the concern?

the knowing
that you need that
something

that home

roots to the ground

roots to anchor
the emotional being that you are

to make sense
when it seems to you
that nothing makes sense

and that nothing will ever come to make sense.

 

[y=mx+b]

so...

when was the last time I posted a link to this song?













































doesn't matter.
it still holds.