It wasn't him. I'm too demanding and some flip comment drove me to inconsolable tears for days until the time when my lover found himself naked in my arms and this emotional nakedness between us that was overwhelming, that sense of being so close to another human being that we cried too and the world stood still. We belonged to each other, this mutual obsession, our religion, and if in bed I was clearly the submissive pet to his almost barbaric dominant worship, out of bed, our roles nearly completely reversed. But now, the trouble his thoughtless little mouth had gotten him into his ass would now have to get him out of.
My lover lay with his bottom in the air as I parted his cheeks and lubricated him, slipping my finger all the way in, almost clinically, in and out but no more and then I took him in my arms, kissing him as he lay back and held his head in my lap.
At the end of our bed, the other man stood, unbuckling his pants. "I love you, god I love you" my lover said over and over, his cock so hard it had sprung back against his belly and I had to lock both of his hands in mine to keep him from touching it. I stroked his hair as the man climbed on to him, pulling my lovers legs roughly around his waist..I kissed his forehead gently as the man parted his cheeks like a pussy and I held him tightly when he penetrated him hard and completely, and cried out from the pressure of that full hard cock going up into him. He took every inch as the man groaned into a comfortable position for the hard pounding of my lover. I whispered into his ear that he was my obsession, how much I loved him but I understood he was having more and more trouble comprehending completely as the man began to thrust hard and rhythmically into him. I kept stroking my lover's hair as he began to sweat and groan and crying out "god it's so hard, oh, god, ohhhhh" His cock was nearly purple and visibly throbbing and I had to lean into him, nearly covering him with my breasts to keep him from writhing and grabbing his by now aching erection.
It seemed to take forever until all my lover could do was moan how much he loved me, the things we would tell each other that only the two of us understood until he began to almost arc off the bed as he came involuntarily shooting cum that spurted so high it hit the ceiling, my hands, his hair..the man never quit his ramming, his sweat now pouring over my lover's chest. Toward the end, he and the man almost lewdly pumping into him could only grunt and groan. Finally, the man held my lover's arms for the few final brutal thrusts and my lover's gasps as he was filled with hot seed. The other man only sat back for a moment to pull on his cock, still fully erect, and gestured to me to turn my lover over on his belly.
Mood: kinda dizzy!
4 Comments

Fifteen minutes ago you were having dinner in Fort Worth, Joe T Garcia's and the best margarita you ever had, she wore these little sandals and you wore shorts and put her arm around her in line and ate outside in the spanish gardens. Enchanting under the stars and she smiled sweetly at you, sweet, almost sheepish and the most trivial points of your life together would occur to you, wondering if there was any milk at home and thinking that you could smell the laundry soap in your shirt. Walking to the car she felt almost childlike next to you and the feeling that you wanted to take care of her, something in that made you feel as powerfully masculine and whole as you've ever known. Somehow, what happened before and what will happen now belies none of it.
She pulls the car keys out of her purse and says she'll drive and you gallantly open the door and close it after her, you do it because she expects it but more because you want to and it's the last act of free will you will make for the next three hours. By the time you slide into the passenger seat pink silk panties are filled to bursting by your rock hard erection. "Before we leave the parking lot darling" she says in her elegant drawl that has seems to have lately developed an emerging quality of sultry maturity, and as casually as if she had asked the radio be turned up, "unbutton your pants and pull them down to your ankles, panties too, precious." You respond immediately, pulling the button open and then lifting your ass up in the seat a bit to slip them over your cheeks and then arranging them just above your tennis shoes. Without taking her other hand off the steering wheel, she runs the tip of her finger firmly over the already precumming head of your cock, rubbing a drop of wetness between her fingers. "You need to watch what happens with that" she says, her tone necessarily devoid of charity, gesturing to the now throbbing boner stiff against your bare leg. "You keep that in check or i'll pull over." The butterflies in your gut flutter against your crotch and your heart and through sheer willpower alone, you clutch the sides of the seat to keep your desperate white-knuckled hands off your aching cock.
She pulls on to I-30 and begins the 20 minute drive back to Dallas in earnest, a placid, earthy monologue that occasionally tugs unbearably at your shaft. She threatens to turn the car around and pimp you out to rich old queers in Fort Worth. Says she'll sit idylly by while you kneel to slobber on their crotches and swallow what they give you to swallow for $200 bucks. That she will wait patiently when they escort you into their bedrooms, she says she will come all over herself listening to you get pumped by a hard, silly old queen. She tells you that if you are unable to control yourself, spending a night on her fist can be arranged. But what does it, what finally makes you impulsively grab the base of your tight, tingling penis, and pull it in one hard upward stroke is thinking that after all of this is over, much later tonight and when she says it is over, she will lay back and tell you to fuck her like a man, spread her legs and wrap them around you as you mount her, glide into her tight wet...ohhhhhhh. She listens almost indifferently to your moans even as you look up at her for a hint of approval. Is she secretly pleased, warmed by your shame? She cocks one perfectly arched eyebrow revealing nothing but her unspoken expectation. Tight, tight in your belly, hard swelling and finally release. You try to catch it all in your hand, pray that none will project, you shut your eyes tightly, cradle your cock in one hand, cup your other around the head and pray. It bubbles into your hand, warm over your fingers and you quickly put your hand to your mouth, gobbling your own seed, one hand still poised to catch the overflow and then both hands at your tongue, licking the palms, between the fingers clean. You are both horrified and thrilled when she slips a hand between your legs and feels for the drops of wetness on the seat. Her lips tighten a bit and calmly she pulls off the expressway and into a dilapadated Fina station. She takes your arm, shorts barely hanging unbuttoned around your waist and too sweetly she asks the attendent for the restroom key and your heart begins to pound. When she tells this guy she is in fact going to pull your pants off and spank you bare bottomed until you felt the sting the rest of the way home, the anticipation is too great to feel embarrased.
Mood: moody
5 Comments

will it change me when I have looked into his eyes,
when I have known the feel of my lips on his neck,
on his hands
kissed in places I have never needed to kiss anyone
else
when my womanness has been shaped by his want and
washed in his desire
Will he be the same man after as he was before
he felt and heard and tasted the moment
he expected to feel my body explode
and my heart, my soul did instead

Mood: They've moved my surgery back another week, boo hiss!
0 Comments

I want to be your naughty girl, lying here ravaged by your angry thrusting, my backside aching sweetly. I'll be pressed into your lap, we spent little spoons sighing in spite of ourselves. More than the tenderness in my bottom, though, I'll feel the rippling wake in my slowly mellowing cock from the violent eruption of my come into your perfect little pussy. Your screams for me to join you in the climax rocking your frame and drenching my cock with your honey-sweetness, will echo in my ear. And the taste and smell of your pussy on my nose and my tongue will intoxicate me as we fall together into the arms of morpheus.
Mood: worried
1 Comment

I have this tattoo of a cross on my back, the
dykey-est thing about me, and even then I had it
designed from my silver pattern. When I got it, I went
with a girl named Shel who was in love with me, she
painted my apartment the perfect shade of plum one
night, in adoration and despair while I was out with a
man after callously whispering against her cheek that
my pussy was completely shaved and that I wasn't
wearing any panties as I walked away from her and into
his car. I always pretended. She once gave me
beautiful gold hoop earrings and I'll wear them and
nothing else when I tell you this story. Tell you how
she watched me that night, unblinking, her breath
suspended as the tattoo gun wrote a benediction into
my flesh, little drops of blood and sweat and my
little tortured gasps that Shel mimicked unconciously.
I'll lay on my tummy when I tell you, my words husky
and low and and you find your head fits perfectly
resting in the small of my back, tracing the pattern
with your finger and glad that I am the sort of woman
other women fall in love with. Glad that I wear high
heels and giggle with the other mothers outside the
school gate and stay up all night making Thanksgiving
pies, gladder still that I lit a halo of candles in
the darkness around our bed and for my smooth, warm
legs unapologetically running little streams of your
seed. When was the last time your shaft was riden
hard, bouncing up and down until all you could do was
sweat and pant?
When have you ever been so conscious of your asshole
as you are now, after it has been so completely taken,
manicured nails around your hips, stretching, filling
you. It didn't hurt like you suspected when I split
you, but the pressure took your faculties away like a
heady liquor and all you knew was the silicon
massaging your prostate and the feel of my oiled hands
on your rock hard cock. The emotional alchemy of
penetration.
Open eyes could no longer see, nor ears hear, and yet
your mouth still retained the feel of my hot, wet
labia having been against it, endlessly, your tongue
rough as a cats from the friction and still licking
the sweet cinnamon wetness from your chin. Now the
intoxicating roar that has invaded your head overcomes
you, and you cling to wispy attempts to anticipate the
insurgence in your body, so deliberate at times that
you try to brace yourself and feel your entire body
being moved by the force of this shaft pushing into
you. You know only that and fingertips pressing hard
into your flesh as if they held the power to suspend
time and space, so hard and deliberate against the
slick pipe that you hardly remember as being your ass
anymore, the wholly euphoric pleasure drowning you
seems almost anonymous in origin and if you are
capable of thought at all, it is the singular idea
that "oh God, my ass is being fucked so hard,
Ohhhhhhhh..."


Mood: drained
7 Comments