HEY YOU...
...you know I'm thinking of you and wish peace and happiness for you. Anytime you need to talk or just rant I'm here for you...I don't like knowing you're sad. I want to hold onto you so you know you're wanted and needed...
You are loved, baby.
Friday, July 21, 2006
LIFE GOES ON
Last weekend we went on a camping trip together.
We still get together sometimes...we even fuck sometimes.
But that's all it is...a fuck.
I thought I was ok with things.
But last weekend pointed out something to me.
It reminded me of all the trips we took together when I was so happy just to be with him. That was when we were like a real couple. We talked and laughed and played...
We didn't talk much on this trip. It seemed we were pissing one another off once in a while. Not quite arguing, but just...annoying each other.
Saturday night I was hot and bitchy and tired of not hearing the conversation between the other campers that they seemed to be enjoying, so I went back to our tent to go to sleep.
Instead of sleeping, I started crying.
He's getting over me.
Besides feeling those pangs of regret, this epiphany I seemed to be having was making things even worse.
It's not that I want to be back with him, it's the fact that things changed...things I thought would be there for the rest of my life.
We DID have fun times together...made great memories...and in spite of all the misery, a lot of those were the best times. I guess it's like when you were a kid and you remember that feeling you got when you did a certain something that you can never get back again.
He's getting over me.
I hope we can stay friends.
We still get together sometimes...we even fuck sometimes.
But that's all it is...a fuck.
I thought I was ok with things.
But last weekend pointed out something to me.
It reminded me of all the trips we took together when I was so happy just to be with him. That was when we were like a real couple. We talked and laughed and played...
We didn't talk much on this trip. It seemed we were pissing one another off once in a while. Not quite arguing, but just...annoying each other.
Saturday night I was hot and bitchy and tired of not hearing the conversation between the other campers that they seemed to be enjoying, so I went back to our tent to go to sleep.
Instead of sleeping, I started crying.
He's getting over me.
Besides feeling those pangs of regret, this epiphany I seemed to be having was making things even worse.
It's not that I want to be back with him, it's the fact that things changed...things I thought would be there for the rest of my life.
We DID have fun times together...made great memories...and in spite of all the misery, a lot of those were the best times. I guess it's like when you were a kid and you remember that feeling you got when you did a certain something that you can never get back again.
He's getting over me.
I hope we can stay friends.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
A GENTLE MAN
It has always amazed me how a man can be so tender...the way you touch me, your fingers fleeting against my skin, making goose bumps pop up...the way your mouth can take me and make me squirm...you play me so well...
Then there are the times, like now, when you seem to be someone else...the look in your eyes when you grab my wrist and pull me to you, no words spoken as you turn me to face away from you, your hands rough as they pull at my clothes, and when I try to pull away you jerk me to you and then push me, making me brace myself against a chair. You have my jeans and panties down at my feet, and suddenly your hands have me by the waist as you thrust into my body, always a pleasant surprise when you do this, yet this is especially hard...when I cry out from the suddenness of your hard cock inside me, cry out from the pain you just caused when you hit the back of me, you groan and thrust harder, making me whimper...you thrust again, and I am so wet you can hear it. Faster...harder...every stroke seems to be deeper than the last, and I can't stop my cum..
You pound me now, this sweet, gentle man who earlier in the day made love to me, pound me as hard and as fast as you can, and I can't stop...you feel me...strong and tight...and my moans are constant as you pump my cunt faster and faster...your hands are on my shoulders now and you are pulling me to you as you fuck me, "my slut" said with every other thrust. I tell you "yes" because when you take me this way, I am your slut, your little whore to be used whenever you want, begging you for more, for your hard prick to make me bleed, and when you hear this it sets you off...so much force inside me, all that cum just pumping into me as you seem to growl the way you do, and you fill me again...your fingers hurting my shoulders now as you hold onto me...your cries louder than mine...the two of us...cumming together.
Standing against that chair, your body against mine as you hold onto me, your breath in my ear, I'm trembling, your cock still hard as it nestles inside my pussy, twitches and spasms making us jump, and this gentle man, the one who just took me so aggressively, so roughly, kisses my cheek and hugs me tighter...whispers in my ear, asking if he's hurt me...hugs me if I say yes, and hugs me if I tell him no.
I will do anything for this sweet, gentle man. And he knows this.
Then there are the times, like now, when you seem to be someone else...the look in your eyes when you grab my wrist and pull me to you, no words spoken as you turn me to face away from you, your hands rough as they pull at my clothes, and when I try to pull away you jerk me to you and then push me, making me brace myself against a chair. You have my jeans and panties down at my feet, and suddenly your hands have me by the waist as you thrust into my body, always a pleasant surprise when you do this, yet this is especially hard...when I cry out from the suddenness of your hard cock inside me, cry out from the pain you just caused when you hit the back of me, you groan and thrust harder, making me whimper...you thrust again, and I am so wet you can hear it. Faster...harder...every stroke seems to be deeper than the last, and I can't stop my cum..
You pound me now, this sweet, gentle man who earlier in the day made love to me, pound me as hard and as fast as you can, and I can't stop...you feel me...strong and tight...and my moans are constant as you pump my cunt faster and faster...your hands are on my shoulders now and you are pulling me to you as you fuck me, "my slut" said with every other thrust. I tell you "yes" because when you take me this way, I am your slut, your little whore to be used whenever you want, begging you for more, for your hard prick to make me bleed, and when you hear this it sets you off...so much force inside me, all that cum just pumping into me as you seem to growl the way you do, and you fill me again...your fingers hurting my shoulders now as you hold onto me...your cries louder than mine...the two of us...cumming together.
Standing against that chair, your body against mine as you hold onto me, your breath in my ear, I'm trembling, your cock still hard as it nestles inside my pussy, twitches and spasms making us jump, and this gentle man, the one who just took me so aggressively, so roughly, kisses my cheek and hugs me tighter...whispers in my ear, asking if he's hurt me...hugs me if I say yes, and hugs me if I tell him no.
I will do anything for this sweet, gentle man. And he knows this.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
FRACTURED FAIRY TALE
Once upon a time there was a girl who didn't want anything but true love.
Ever since she could remember, she always had a wish for that white picket fence, a happy home with the perfect husband and wonderful children that loved her and needed her very much.
That was 19 years ago.
This girl is now older, and much wiser.
No white picket fence, but there is a privacy fence in the back.
Sometimes her home is happy, but almost always dirty and in desperate need of repair.
The perfect husband happens to belong to someone else.
And the cats and dogs, the bird and the snake, and all the critters she's taken in through the years do love her and need her very much.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Ever since she could remember, she always had a wish for that white picket fence, a happy home with the perfect husband and wonderful children that loved her and needed her very much.
That was 19 years ago.
This girl is now older, and much wiser.
No white picket fence, but there is a privacy fence in the back.
Sometimes her home is happy, but almost always dirty and in desperate need of repair.
The perfect husband happens to belong to someone else.
And the cats and dogs, the bird and the snake, and all the critters she's taken in through the years do love her and need her very much.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Saturday, July 01, 2006
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