Again and again
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Veröffentlicht:5. Januar 2019, 18:45 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:22. Januar 2019, 16:21 Uhr 8780 Aufrufe
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I come to you gratefully
Allowing myself to bask in the glow produced by these visits
Allowing you to touch even the deepest parts of my physical being
All the while, though, I hold you at arms length
Keeping this distance between us
The casualness of an acquaintance while my body yearns for your touch
My heart and my soul know no such misery
Nothing pierces them
Nothing is allowed to reach them.
They see you
They know you.
They enjoy you,
but they understand
They know their place is not with you.
You are a lover of soft skin, large full breasts, pretty smiles, and blue eyes
But you are not the lover of love
So I come to you again and again,
letting you touch every part of me you reach for
knowing you will never reach my heart and soul.
For A
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Too much for you
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Veröffentlicht:8. Dezember 2018, 17:02 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:22. Januar 2019, 16:22 Uhr 9437 Aufrufe
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You fuck me
And you fuck me well, I have to say
But then you get your fix
Your temporary fill
And you send me away.
Home, the other side of the city,
the moon. It doesn’t matter
Just away from you
Until it’s time to call me back again
When your dick throbs
And you need to feel it inside my wet pussy
And then you call me back again
And you fuck me
And then you send me home
For me it’s a cycle of need and joy
And release and desolation
So I continue coming to you
Coming for you
Coming with you
But when it’s over,
I tell myself it’s for the last time
Until you call me, inviting me over
And you fuck me
And you fuck me well, I have to say
Giving us both that fix
That temporary fill
That’s never really enough for me
But maybe just a bit too much for you
For A
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4
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How Can I keep from squirting...better yet, why should I keep from it?
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Veröffentlicht:25. November 2018, 12:27 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:9. Februar 2019, 23:39 Uhr 9371 Aufrufe
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She didn’t really want to talk about it. She just wanted to escape. She wanted to let the evidence dissipate. Besides, what could she have said? Thank you for making me cum so hard, and I’m sorry for leaving a puddle in your bed? And it all took her by surprise. The position with which he took her was one she had never experienced before. It wasn’t the typical position with her legs over his shoulders or wrapped around his waist. She wasn’t even sure he used his hands. Somehow she felt suspended in mid air by nothing more than the strength of their desire. The ability to hold her in the air all while driving himself into her was thrilling to watch as well as to feel. The angle at which he tilted her provided the opportunity for him stroke her g-spot with the head of his cock all while his pelvic bone pressed against her swollen clit, and when she came, she felt the force and the waves of a mixed orgasm, as he thrust away to his own satisfaction. It was only afterward that she realized what had happened. And she was too embarrassed to utter a word. Not even the thank you that played over and over again in her satisfied mind came from her lips. Instead, she willed for the spot to dry before he would feel it, and then she left, wondering if he’d ever bother to speak to her again.
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I own my vagina
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Veröffentlicht:14. Oktober 2018, 21:41 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:19. Oktober 2018, 11:55 Uhr 9579 Aufrufe
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I’ve been reading two books concurrently. One, an audio book called Vagina and the other, a novel called Erotic Stories For Punjabi Widows. The latter was supposed to be a lighthearted look into the lives of Indian widows living in a Punjabi community in London. However, though there have been moments of lightheartedness, it’s really been more about how these women have been controlled by societal norms. When I began these books, I didn’t realize there’d be a connection, but there is. Men (and women) use morality as a means of controlling other women. A woman’s body doesn’t belong to her. Her vagina is nothing more than a vulnerable entryway for attack. Each book has shown me the strength and joy hiding in the depths of a woman’s body. If she is lucky, she finds them there and shares them to her heart’s content. If she is unlucky, these things remain hidden and her body becomes another battleground in a male dominant world.
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3
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Embracing me embracing you
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Veröffentlicht:2. Oktober 2018, 17:16 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:9. Oktober 2018, 19:54 Uhr 9922 Aufrufe
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He said he liked it dirty. I said I liked to experiment but still to be in control. So I climbed on top of him.
My pussy firmly planted on his tongue, as I faced his hardened cock. I controlled the tempo. I controlled the length I took of him. What seemed beyond my control was the valuable spit that spilled from the corner of my mouth and on to the sheets between his legs. You have to keep it wet, I remember as the first rule of my oral sex training. I had to work extra hard at retaining the moisture building in my mouth as I glided my lips over his engorged cock.
But I suddenly felt like a blow job queen. I could hear the bed squeaking. It was the rhythm of riding a cock with my pussy, only it was my mouth sliding up and down his shaft. It was freeing. I didn’t have to be perfect. I still used my hand for the places my mouth and throat wouldn’t allow me to cover, but I felt significant. I felt alive. I felt myself working him over, giving him pleasure and allowing myself to be fully involved in these moments of triumph as I mastered my dread of a too-big-for-my-mouth sized cock. And then I could hear him. His growing appreciation in concert with the sounds of the bed.
Finally, I remembered me. I remembered that I was straddling his face. I had been so wrapped up in what I was doing that I forgot to be present for me, too. I slowly began to slide my sopping wet pussy back and forth from his chin to his forehead, and then i settled back down, my clitoris finding his tongue. I could feel the heat of his breath, the stubble on his chin. And then I began to grind, my hips going up and down as I continued to devour his cock. It didn’t take long for that familiar tingling sensation to wash over me. My body trembled and shook and shuddered until I shifted my weight and the moment was broken. It was only after my own release that I felt his body tighten and strain. I smiled as I drew away and then lay beside him long into the night as he held me close and fell asleep, his hands tangled up in my hair.
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2
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I’ve got the power
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Veröffentlicht:24. September 2018, 20:11 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:2. Oktober 2018, 20:05 Uhr 9516 Aufrufe
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First times are supposed to be awkward, right?
The hands go here
The mouth goes there
This is what you sound like when you’re pleased
This is the moment you move like this
And I move like that
Only it wasn’t awkward
It was natural and relaxed
It was me finally feeling the confidence of being a skilled and artful lover
I recognized my power over you
I knew how to excite you
To taste and tease and tantalize you with my tongue
To take you in
To take you down
And I let you touch me
Nothing was off limits
Nothing was covered
I was uninhibited
Awakened to my own deep desires
Giving and taking
Touching and tasting
Feeling and thinking
And wanting it all like it would be the first and last and only chance to have you to myself
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3
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Timing is everything...
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Veröffentlicht:24. August 2018, 12:43 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:9. Februar 2019, 23:51 Uhr 10105 Aufrufe
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A journal entry? A blog post? An unsent letter?
I remember the first time I met you in person. We had been chatting or talking for years, but for one reason or another, it took until that day for us to meet face to face. You came and met me at the gym. I was determined to finish my workout before I left with you, so you came into the fitness room and chatted with me while I did my time on the treadmill. It was pouring down rain outside. I finished my workout, showered, and then we shared your umbrella and walked to your car. A friend of mine from the gym cornered me the next day to ask who you were. She told me I appeared to be the apple of you eye. She said you were positively glowing as you stood next to me at the gym. Little did you understand that I was already descending into binge eating madness and was not going to be that diligent gym goer much longer. I sat with you while you ate something. I couldn’t eat. It wasn’t time yet, said the dieter in me. And then we ended up having sex. It was the most random unromantic act ever, and one I performed to convince myself that I was still desirable. It took years for us to see each other again. It seems in retrospect that you kept the door open. You pursued further meetings and conversations, but I resisted for any of reasons.
Finally, I made the determination that I would come and see you the next time you offered or the next chance that presented itself. We’ve seen each other three times since then. And I could write about it, but for now, I won’t. What I will say is that I think about that day you came to see me at the gym. I think about what my friend said to me. While I’d like to think it was an expression of feeling toward me, I understand that you weren’t looking at me with such glowing adoration. You were looking at my exercise performance. You were impressed by my sweat, my calves, my work ethic. I am sure you look at all the people you train with that same adoration. I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason why you still invite me to come see you, but there’s been many people and many reasons for both of us between then and now. I don’t know where or if we will go from here. I don’t know if I completely lost my chance or if there is still a chance, but I am sorry if I ruined it all with my distance and distant nature all this time. I don’t know why saying all of this now. Maybe I just wanted to get it off my chest.
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Perspective (under construction)
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Veröffentlicht:22. August 2018, 12:19 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:27. August 2018, 16:50 Uhr 10305 Aufrufe
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I always hated it when I felt he was ignoring me. I hated when I would call or text and receive no response. It was always more that he was busy rather than ignoring me, but it made me feel alone and unimportant just the same. I tried to never complain, though. It wasn’t in my nature. And I never asked to see him, either. I just waited patiently and anticipated my reward. I never wanted to drive him away. Once, I asked him if he could make some time for me soon, but I let it go when he didn’t respond. And then one day he invited me over. I drove to see him filled with anticipation. He opened the door to me and allowed me to enter. He insisted that I get naked right away, but instead of making love to me, he tied my hands behind my back, stood me in a corner, placed a ball gag in my mouth and a blind fold over my eyes. He then proceeded to go about his business for the day. He answered emails and returned phone calls. He was, at this point, truly ignoring me. Instead of being disappointed, however, my pussy had never been wetter. My body ached with longing. My need for him grew. I didn’t feel humiliation and shamed. I felt desired and desirable. I knew he would take the time to satisfy me before too long, and I knew that if he went so far to prove a point, it was because he really wanted me.
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6
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Oh Innocence
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Veröffentlicht:11. Mai 2018, 18:35 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:22. September 2018, 15:59 Uhr 11418 Aufrufe
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I lost my innocence when I was a child
Long before I understood innocence was something to lose
Long before I understood it was important
Long before I recognized I could be sitting here decades later,
trying to recapture the feeling of innocence
The feeling of sharing something with some for the first time
Sure, there is always the first kiss
The first time your lips touch some new
The first time you feel his tongue on yours
And there’s the first time you feel some’s body filling yours
The first time you feel him enter you
The first time you hear the noise he makes
Or how you feel his breath catch
So maybe there is a way of regaining that innocence
That moment when you share yourself so completely with some
That moment when you find something to give him
That you’ve never given to anyone else
Maybe it’s not really innocence in the truest sense
But maybe there’s a way of being so vulnerable that it’s almost like allowing yourself to be taken for the first time
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He was too young to know
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Veröffentlicht:10. Mai 2018, 13:11 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:15. Juli 2018, 8:39 Uhr 11372 Aufrufe
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I spent my vacation dodging barely twenty somethings with granny fantasies
That’s ok. It gives me a different perspective
A new platform from which to write
But I wonder if they’d be flattered by the story I shared
By the stroke I used to paint the picture of their untouched penis
How I told that they grew hard at the slightest provocation
Calling it mine
But I know better
It belongs to the wind
To the fantasy
To the memory of last night’s easy fuck date
It wasn’t mine
I wasn’t there last night
And I won’t be the one tonight
I am flattered, yes, but not interested
I’d prefer a little more discretion
A little more of a challenge
And a penis that grows hard so easily
Rarely lasts for long
Give me something I can work with
Take my time and enjoy
Something I know belongs to me
Something that lingers a while
Savoring all that is offered.
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2
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The One night stand blues
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Veröffentlicht:9. Mai 2018, 16:49 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:15. Juli 2018, 8:42 Uhr 11014 Aufrufe
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One day while driving home she thought
if only she could piece together all the intimacy created by those well-intentioned one night stands
If she could melt all the caresses, cuddles, and kisses into one
If only she could unify all those longings and wishes,
finding a method to make one complete love affair
Instead she had nothing more than a series of purposeless but poignant moments
or maybe they were more like pointless meaningful moments
Yes, they were moments she would like to remember
But they left her feeling lonely just the same
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But he wants her
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Veröffentlicht:16. April 2018, 18:15 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:17. April 2018, 11:48 Uhr 11321 Aufrufe
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He wants her
He claims to want her
He fills her day with messages
Reminding her how much he wants her
Telling her how much she means to him
Sharing with her his devotion
she knows better
She used to fall for it
now she understands
He’s just bored
He is fantasizing again about the life he wants
The life she once tried to offer him
he chose another life instead
So now he messages her when he has a light caseload
or when the house is empty.
Soon she won't hear from him again
Soon the phone will go silent
He will be too busy to think of her
And his unceasing, undying, unending, unfailing, unyielding devotion
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Hanging at the bookstore
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Veröffentlicht:6. Januar 2018, 13:54 Uhr
Zuletzt aktualisiert:21. Januar 2018, 13:14 Uhr 14932 Aufrufe
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People, men, stare at me
But they never approach
I feel their eyes upon me
And I look their way
An involuntary reaction that forces them to look away
I have my nose in a book, it’s true
But I try to look open, available
I hear a sneeze, and I say God bless you to the room
A thank you is returned
But that ends the exchange
Sometimes I think of making the first move
Of pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down
Of striking up a conversation
What are you reading?
What type of books do you enjoy?
Do you come here often?
Why did you stare at me but refuse to speak?
Instead, I sit in my chair, Indian style
(A grown woman with a free-spirited, girlish air)
I listen to the chatter at the tables nearby
And wonder why with all the eyes upon me
I always leave alone
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Um diesen Blog zu verknüpfen (gymrat1974), verwende [blog gymrat1974] in deinen Nachrichten.
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