I am getting tired of people asking me about what accounts for my loss of weight...its annoying to keep repeating the lie of "taking a decision to eat healthier" or "just finally getting a little constructive exercise". I am getting tired of people using me as a beacon, a role model, for effecting personal change......but how does one slip into polite convcersation that you are gourging yourself on a steady diet of brokenheart and a conscious decision to stop fucking, and fucking around so frivolously so that the puss and dog them weh a tek libatty cause dem know seh dem did play yuh can stop be so damn smug....it doesn't quite seem something people would want to consume and digest.
So I tell a half truth and peoples are motivated….I am motivated, to eat healthier and get more exercise…..it all works out in the end…..this may be the one constructive contribution I make to mankind.
They don’t have to know you consider the heart as comprising only two chambers……one half takes care of the mundane task of keeping the body functions going…..but its the other half that really keeps you alive…..in this chamber love resides……no human can exist without the nourishment this chamber provides……in this chamber our capacity for relationships abide, and relationships are the life blood of the livity, whether family, friendships or otherwise (I could find no one word to convey the depth of emotion required to categorize the man/woman interaction).
If both chambers are functioning efficiently then the human is whole, constructively functional, lucid, uninterrupted. This is why God is so good, cause only a loving God could set it so that one half of the heart would always function at 60% while you process the emptiness you feel when there is no love….yeah, he has made it so you can maintain some operational effectiveness which could be construed to be a life while you pick up the pieces and grow up a little….God truly is a good God……if only he could make it so that not loving Boogie wouldn’t hurt so much…..then I could actually entertain other options….in a non-destructive manner.
He doesn’t even talk to me anymore, and I think its unfair……I mean, Tuesday I was sick all day and in the night when I thought the pain would break me in two, I called….he didn’t answer. In days gone by he would have been by my side quicker than I could think possible……he doesn’t love me anymore…..he is still the only one I think of running to if I’m in need….he would rub my tummy and make me soup….how then can he not care if I'm sick...how could he not love me anymore......he won’t even give me a chance to explain……
Monday, April 7, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Clarity
A player is a player is a player....it would be nice to experience true love one of these days, but one can never really have true love without total trust.....so until then I will live by my flawed rules for life.
Playing feels better when you lead your opponent....if you're not leading then you are miserable......you know the truth but out of a strange need for punishment or whatever, you push it to the back of your mind because your thoughts are clouded by what you want. Not for a minute do you acknowledge that 'little thing' you can't quite put your finger on and every time it rolls in like a wave of reason you shut it down with memories of how good he felt on you or how well he manipulated your body parts.....you don't think about the fact that you only get to feel him once or twice....you don't think about the fact that these moments of bliss only provide momentary relief....you forget that for the other 28 days in the month you are in hell.
This persists until one day you hear something and the clarity it provides is overwhelming....the blinkers are removed from your eyes and you stand naked, uninhibited by the obsession as you see the situation for what it really is... as you accept that there is nothing, there was never anything.....you got played.
Then you feel you will die from embarrassment over your prior stupidity and actions every time you share space.......you acknowledge that he has earned the right to add you to his scrap book with its neatly pressed pages and bits and pieces of articles once cherished.....you realise and accept though that the prizes ultimately get replaced when the need to conquer greater beings kicks in.
You realise with a bang that you won't be able to claim a similar victory in this game and therefore cannot add him to your own scrap book.....Then you reflect and think too much as you also accept that your only real talent is fucking and though the thought of saving mankind one session at a time is pleasing, you understand that its not rocket science and therefore cannot give you the recognition you need that you were a functional and useful part of this existence.
Clarity is a wonderful tool for reflection I've found, cause now I am stripped of delusion and can finally see what I did wrong......on both scores. Re: Boogie, you think about how many more times he will be nice and forgive the error, but also you wonder if this is really what you want cause what do you do when you feel he doesn't love you anymore or that he doesn't love you enough to take care of you forever. It is then that you acknowledge that he hurts more than any distraction could, and that while fucking around on him hurts you too, loving him hurts more so while you would love to say yes to him and surrender the reigns with unwavering trust...you remember that he has hurt you before and he will again.
Upon greater introspection and reflection you also determine that Distractions are useful sometimes but there is no scope for return from the embarrassment caused when you finally accept that it really was you who got played, cause both parties really couldn't care about each other. You conclude that though some distractions give you sleepless nights even strong infatuations come to an end.
Through all this clarity you are also clear on the fact that young impressionable youths should be inoculated against the affliction of LOVE until they are 33 and have been exposed to a lesson in patience, trust, your limits and acceptance that you are stupid and foolish in matters of the heart.
Playing feels better when you lead your opponent....if you're not leading then you are miserable......you know the truth but out of a strange need for punishment or whatever, you push it to the back of your mind because your thoughts are clouded by what you want. Not for a minute do you acknowledge that 'little thing' you can't quite put your finger on and every time it rolls in like a wave of reason you shut it down with memories of how good he felt on you or how well he manipulated your body parts.....you don't think about the fact that you only get to feel him once or twice....you don't think about the fact that these moments of bliss only provide momentary relief....you forget that for the other 28 days in the month you are in hell.
This persists until one day you hear something and the clarity it provides is overwhelming....the blinkers are removed from your eyes and you stand naked, uninhibited by the obsession as you see the situation for what it really is... as you accept that there is nothing, there was never anything.....you got played.
Then you feel you will die from embarrassment over your prior stupidity and actions every time you share space.......you acknowledge that he has earned the right to add you to his scrap book with its neatly pressed pages and bits and pieces of articles once cherished.....you realise and accept though that the prizes ultimately get replaced when the need to conquer greater beings kicks in.
You realise with a bang that you won't be able to claim a similar victory in this game and therefore cannot add him to your own scrap book.....Then you reflect and think too much as you also accept that your only real talent is fucking and though the thought of saving mankind one session at a time is pleasing, you understand that its not rocket science and therefore cannot give you the recognition you need that you were a functional and useful part of this existence.
Clarity is a wonderful tool for reflection I've found, cause now I am stripped of delusion and can finally see what I did wrong......on both scores. Re: Boogie, you think about how many more times he will be nice and forgive the error, but also you wonder if this is really what you want cause what do you do when you feel he doesn't love you anymore or that he doesn't love you enough to take care of you forever. It is then that you acknowledge that he hurts more than any distraction could, and that while fucking around on him hurts you too, loving him hurts more so while you would love to say yes to him and surrender the reigns with unwavering trust...you remember that he has hurt you before and he will again.
Upon greater introspection and reflection you also determine that Distractions are useful sometimes but there is no scope for return from the embarrassment caused when you finally accept that it really was you who got played, cause both parties really couldn't care about each other. You conclude that though some distractions give you sleepless nights even strong infatuations come to an end.
Through all this clarity you are also clear on the fact that young impressionable youths should be inoculated against the affliction of LOVE until they are 33 and have been exposed to a lesson in patience, trust, your limits and acceptance that you are stupid and foolish in matters of the heart.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Mending Walls
Warning!!!!
Should have broken this post up in parts but I had to get it out so its kinda long......my advice is to read in phases or over days whichever does it for you.
I woke up on Sunday with thoughts of sex.....I had no pretty words to describe the burn in my lions with which I had been battling since Wednesday last, and the rainy holiday did not provide much balm for my condition. When I couldn't deal anymore, when prayer for strength and the offending vibe to be ripped from my body like a devil child failed, I ran through a list of what I thought would have been willing partners who could perform the necessary function of taking the edge off.....I didn't want to fall again for the two beings I really desired. Though it felt good to go through my list I couldn't bring myself to make any calls cause I knew I wouldn't enjoy it, so I worked out.
After an hour or so of moaning and groaning from the stretching and muscle building I began to feel okay...it was like drinking nutmeg and water, it provided enough of a fix. When exhaustion threatened my ability to stand I had a shower helped my self and went straight to bed. As I drifted off I prayed to God tostills my mind and body so that the day would pass like several of the others before it, without incident/embarrassment.
I slept, not well but it was welcomed. While trying not to dream I heard a faint voice from beyond calling out to me.....the voice became louder and louder in the back of my mind and I marvelled at the power of the mind to create the situation it desired...it all seemed so real I thought, then I felt fingers caress my head and knew that it was not a dream. Natural instinct prompted me to jump from sleep to absolute fear as I realised that my room window was open and someone had touched me...I could feel my heart in my throat and the pounding in the back of my head was evidence that I was scared stiff.
Somehow amidst my panic I heard Boogie coaxing me to calm down...son of a bitch!! With a headache the size of St. Catherine I made my way to the door to let him in after putting on clothes of course. I repeated the word shit in my head as he tried to console me and apologise for the attempted murder. The increasing thud at my temples was too much to bear so I headed for the bed after telling him it was okay. I had recognised that he was dragging out the process of clearing out his stuff but I didn't care that day....I had hatched a plan to seduce him.
I listened to him rummage around in the store room as I put pressure on my temples and neck...he was banging everything possible and I knew he was perturbed. Like most tests the situation worsened, the sky opened up...fuck. This man knew the effects of the rain on me....I remember him sending messages to me in better days that he would require double time payment cause "man haffi work harder inna di rain".....I could see the gleam in his eyes as he sat beside me on the bed taking over the rubbing of my head and neck....like Pavlov's dog I melted into his touch and automatically made room for him beside me...it felt so good to feel him touch me again, the seeming care in his gentleness was almost heartbreaking. Thankfully I was lucid enough to realise the danger and I shuffled out of bed to get something for my head.
He handed me a glass of water when I emerged from the medicine chest with pills and I was too weak to pretend that I wasn't affected by him....with every rain drop on my window I felt desire rise within me and thought of how good it would be to feel him, touch him, suck him dry......he would know how to satisfy my soul if I gave in. As if sensing my dilemma he said he was leaving....I was crushed...could he really not want me after all this time...noway.....so I asked him for a hug. There was a moment of hesitation but that was all there was, a moment later I was gasping for air as his arms seemed to crush my ribcage in a tight embrace......I heard him exhale as I brushed my lips against the side of his neck and whispered "its just a hug, nothing more, just relax".....I didn't think it possible to be squeezed harder but he found new strength as he dipped down and gathered me even more into his arms...at that moment I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Feeling inspired by the hardness now resting against my stomach, I trailed kisses through his shirt across his chest....as I strung kisses together in a chain up to his neck I was overcome with a feeling of guilt and shame...it was enough to stop the process. I tried to speak when he asked what was wrong but words escaped me so I hugged him. He cupped my chin on my second attempt to release myself from the embrace, and kissed me long, hard and deep....it raised the demon in me again and I returned his kiss hungrily...my hand made its way to the usual place and it was almost orgasmic to hear him moan as my hand unzipped his pants and slid into his shorts for a skin to skin feel.
The kitchen counter was closest but I asked him if he could let me lay him down and make love to him....he agreed. When he slid my shorts down over my hips I was taken aback by my near violent reaction to his hand between my legs for the first time in three months.....I sprung an immediate leak.....he always knew how and what to do and I realised that he had overruled his own decision to make me make love to him, choosing instead to revel in my trembling and quivering under his touch.
I tried laying back and enjoying the intensity of it all but sanity crept in again and I felt foolish at the power this man had over me, so I stopped the progress again. I opted to have him just lay on top of me for a while and through kisses on his lips and forehead I introduced reason to the scenario and confessed that I was reluctant to go further because of what it would mean after (at the time I wasn't even sure what the hell it would mean, but I could feel the shift of power and knew that i would be fucked and fucked up in the end). He is usually pretty good with respecting my feelings but not that day....he held my waist firmly and pressed his body against mine and asked how it felt......the yes in the back of my throat was fighting to come out but the rhythm of my hips as he began to move answered the question......he stopped for a minute and looked me in the eyes and said that he would understand if it were simply about sex this time...he would be fine with it...all he wanted to do at that particular moment was feel the warmth of inside me.....I couldn't resist the ego stroke so I began to assault him again.
When I finally got on my knees having rubbed and sucked and tugged and bitten and kissed...he started inching in slowly....because my capacity for restraint had been depleted completely I proceeded to do my "go-go wine" knowing that he couldn't resist the temptation to plunge in deeper, quickly....pretty soon he matched every stroke and we were as one, moving in unison to a basic primal rhythm...he slapped my ass and I reached my hands behind me so that he could take the reigns while whispering dirty, filthy nothings until I could hold back no more.
With that out of the way I was free to concentrate on fucking him and fuck him I did.... I said the words I needed to say to spur him on and when he flipped me unto my back at the edge of the bed and stood firm and strong between my legs I offered up a treat befitting a king and watched his eyes flutter close as I milked him contracting and releasing to my pleasure. He was fighting to stay longer than I thought he could, so I decided to fuck him up.....he likes it when I tell him what to do and how and most importantly how it feels to me, so I provided direction and he followed my instructions well...we were always very good at communicating when in bed, its the clothes on communication that was never very good......so I asked him if he didn't miss the pussy, when he nodded I told him to open his eyes and look at what he was doing, look me in the eyes and tell me how much he missed it....I asked him if he really thought he could stay away from me and it......he responded with a deep thrust that caught me off guard and ripped a loud groan from my lips because of the painful pleasure....watching and feeling my reaction he pounced on the opportunity to state that it seemed that my new man couldn't fuck me.....I answered with a resounding "noway".... this was the truth, I have yet to find his better.
The session was long and I was thankful....in the end, I whispered how much I missed him and as I felt his grip on self diminishing, I encouraged him to "stop fucking like a school boy and leggo c--ky inna a bitch" and that was all it took....I listened to and appreciated his release muffled by his biting my leg which by now was perched on his chest....I was in heaven and I joined in moments after.
As I came down from the high and all my muscles spasmed uncontrollably, I felt him harden in me again and he delivered a session meant to take revenge.....it was hard and quick. Punishment was meted out...and while I like a lot of pain with my pleasure, it became too much but I expected it and couldn't back down...I stood up to the lesson being taught until he got it out of his system and reverted to a more tantalizing action where he asked again if my new man could fuck me....I answered honestly "not a bumboclaaught"..... and encouraged him to reach for the sugar deep inside me and chanted "reach dung deh fi it baby" until he came again.
This time as I descended from my high, tears flowed....I knew I wasn't suppose to do it. My tears seemed endless and when I tried to beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom to sob in peace he held me tightly against his chest....I cried even harder...damn. Now he knows that I'm hurting................I fell asleep in his arms for the first time in months, it felt so right. When I awoke the rain had stopped and he laid there peacefully wrapped up in me and I blamed it all on the rain....some people get crazy with a full moon, but me, I get crazier with the rain.....stupid I know, but its who I am.
I bid him goodbye that night with hope springing eternal in my breast that I wouldn't do much more foolishness in this time and that I wouldn't feel too badly when he doesn't call and that he wouldn't feel too badly when I returned the favour..........I remember always that it was sex, nothing more and nothing less.
Should have broken this post up in parts but I had to get it out so its kinda long......my advice is to read in phases or over days whichever does it for you.
I woke up on Sunday with thoughts of sex.....I had no pretty words to describe the burn in my lions with which I had been battling since Wednesday last, and the rainy holiday did not provide much balm for my condition. When I couldn't deal anymore, when prayer for strength and the offending vibe to be ripped from my body like a devil child failed, I ran through a list of what I thought would have been willing partners who could perform the necessary function of taking the edge off.....I didn't want to fall again for the two beings I really desired. Though it felt good to go through my list I couldn't bring myself to make any calls cause I knew I wouldn't enjoy it, so I worked out.
After an hour or so of moaning and groaning from the stretching and muscle building I began to feel okay...it was like drinking nutmeg and water, it provided enough of a fix. When exhaustion threatened my ability to stand I had a shower helped my self and went straight to bed. As I drifted off I prayed to God tostills my mind and body so that the day would pass like several of the others before it, without incident/embarrassment.
I slept, not well but it was welcomed. While trying not to dream I heard a faint voice from beyond calling out to me.....the voice became louder and louder in the back of my mind and I marvelled at the power of the mind to create the situation it desired...it all seemed so real I thought, then I felt fingers caress my head and knew that it was not a dream. Natural instinct prompted me to jump from sleep to absolute fear as I realised that my room window was open and someone had touched me...I could feel my heart in my throat and the pounding in the back of my head was evidence that I was scared stiff.
Somehow amidst my panic I heard Boogie coaxing me to calm down...son of a bitch!! With a headache the size of St. Catherine I made my way to the door to let him in after putting on clothes of course. I repeated the word shit in my head as he tried to console me and apologise for the attempted murder. The increasing thud at my temples was too much to bear so I headed for the bed after telling him it was okay. I had recognised that he was dragging out the process of clearing out his stuff but I didn't care that day....I had hatched a plan to seduce him.
I listened to him rummage around in the store room as I put pressure on my temples and neck...he was banging everything possible and I knew he was perturbed. Like most tests the situation worsened, the sky opened up...fuck. This man knew the effects of the rain on me....I remember him sending messages to me in better days that he would require double time payment cause "man haffi work harder inna di rain".....I could see the gleam in his eyes as he sat beside me on the bed taking over the rubbing of my head and neck....like Pavlov's dog I melted into his touch and automatically made room for him beside me...it felt so good to feel him touch me again, the seeming care in his gentleness was almost heartbreaking. Thankfully I was lucid enough to realise the danger and I shuffled out of bed to get something for my head.
He handed me a glass of water when I emerged from the medicine chest with pills and I was too weak to pretend that I wasn't affected by him....with every rain drop on my window I felt desire rise within me and thought of how good it would be to feel him, touch him, suck him dry......he would know how to satisfy my soul if I gave in. As if sensing my dilemma he said he was leaving....I was crushed...could he really not want me after all this time...noway.....so I asked him for a hug. There was a moment of hesitation but that was all there was, a moment later I was gasping for air as his arms seemed to crush my ribcage in a tight embrace......I heard him exhale as I brushed my lips against the side of his neck and whispered "its just a hug, nothing more, just relax".....I didn't think it possible to be squeezed harder but he found new strength as he dipped down and gathered me even more into his arms...at that moment I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Feeling inspired by the hardness now resting against my stomach, I trailed kisses through his shirt across his chest....as I strung kisses together in a chain up to his neck I was overcome with a feeling of guilt and shame...it was enough to stop the process. I tried to speak when he asked what was wrong but words escaped me so I hugged him. He cupped my chin on my second attempt to release myself from the embrace, and kissed me long, hard and deep....it raised the demon in me again and I returned his kiss hungrily...my hand made its way to the usual place and it was almost orgasmic to hear him moan as my hand unzipped his pants and slid into his shorts for a skin to skin feel.
The kitchen counter was closest but I asked him if he could let me lay him down and make love to him....he agreed. When he slid my shorts down over my hips I was taken aback by my near violent reaction to his hand between my legs for the first time in three months.....I sprung an immediate leak.....he always knew how and what to do and I realised that he had overruled his own decision to make me make love to him, choosing instead to revel in my trembling and quivering under his touch.
I tried laying back and enjoying the intensity of it all but sanity crept in again and I felt foolish at the power this man had over me, so I stopped the progress again. I opted to have him just lay on top of me for a while and through kisses on his lips and forehead I introduced reason to the scenario and confessed that I was reluctant to go further because of what it would mean after (at the time I wasn't even sure what the hell it would mean, but I could feel the shift of power and knew that i would be fucked and fucked up in the end). He is usually pretty good with respecting my feelings but not that day....he held my waist firmly and pressed his body against mine and asked how it felt......the yes in the back of my throat was fighting to come out but the rhythm of my hips as he began to move answered the question......he stopped for a minute and looked me in the eyes and said that he would understand if it were simply about sex this time...he would be fine with it...all he wanted to do at that particular moment was feel the warmth of inside me.....I couldn't resist the ego stroke so I began to assault him again.
When I finally got on my knees having rubbed and sucked and tugged and bitten and kissed...he started inching in slowly....because my capacity for restraint had been depleted completely I proceeded to do my "go-go wine" knowing that he couldn't resist the temptation to plunge in deeper, quickly....pretty soon he matched every stroke and we were as one, moving in unison to a basic primal rhythm...he slapped my ass and I reached my hands behind me so that he could take the reigns while whispering dirty, filthy nothings until I could hold back no more.
With that out of the way I was free to concentrate on fucking him and fuck him I did.... I said the words I needed to say to spur him on and when he flipped me unto my back at the edge of the bed and stood firm and strong between my legs I offered up a treat befitting a king and watched his eyes flutter close as I milked him contracting and releasing to my pleasure. He was fighting to stay longer than I thought he could, so I decided to fuck him up.....he likes it when I tell him what to do and how and most importantly how it feels to me, so I provided direction and he followed my instructions well...we were always very good at communicating when in bed, its the clothes on communication that was never very good......so I asked him if he didn't miss the pussy, when he nodded I told him to open his eyes and look at what he was doing, look me in the eyes and tell me how much he missed it....I asked him if he really thought he could stay away from me and it......he responded with a deep thrust that caught me off guard and ripped a loud groan from my lips because of the painful pleasure....watching and feeling my reaction he pounced on the opportunity to state that it seemed that my new man couldn't fuck me.....I answered with a resounding "noway".... this was the truth, I have yet to find his better.
The session was long and I was thankful....in the end, I whispered how much I missed him and as I felt his grip on self diminishing, I encouraged him to "stop fucking like a school boy and leggo c--ky inna a bitch" and that was all it took....I listened to and appreciated his release muffled by his biting my leg which by now was perched on his chest....I was in heaven and I joined in moments after.
As I came down from the high and all my muscles spasmed uncontrollably, I felt him harden in me again and he delivered a session meant to take revenge.....it was hard and quick. Punishment was meted out...and while I like a lot of pain with my pleasure, it became too much but I expected it and couldn't back down...I stood up to the lesson being taught until he got it out of his system and reverted to a more tantalizing action where he asked again if my new man could fuck me....I answered honestly "not a bumboclaaught"..... and encouraged him to reach for the sugar deep inside me and chanted "reach dung deh fi it baby" until he came again.
This time as I descended from my high, tears flowed....I knew I wasn't suppose to do it. My tears seemed endless and when I tried to beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom to sob in peace he held me tightly against his chest....I cried even harder...damn. Now he knows that I'm hurting................I fell asleep in his arms for the first time in months, it felt so right. When I awoke the rain had stopped and he laid there peacefully wrapped up in me and I blamed it all on the rain....some people get crazy with a full moon, but me, I get crazier with the rain.....stupid I know, but its who I am.
I bid him goodbye that night with hope springing eternal in my breast that I wouldn't do much more foolishness in this time and that I wouldn't feel too badly when he doesn't call and that he wouldn't feel too badly when I returned the favour..........I remember always that it was sex, nothing more and nothing less.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Decisions
Like a moth to a flame I was drawn to cross instituted boundaries and now while I no longer long for the feel of a man, I am longing for more, much more from him......its unfair that months of work can be unravelled in one touch, one moment of real weakness, but should I continue to fight for control or can I just give in now....revert to the route well known, admit my failings, settle for "fuckship"?
I am hard to love....this I know.....and I'm even harder to like......the parts of him he is willing to give (owing to my untrustworthy nature) will not satisfy my soul, but it would stop a gap....... until I start playing again......could we survive another fling though????.....he at least gets me somewhat, and more importantly, I get him....Am I ready to abandon my life lesson in patience....have I mastered this art given the great teacherI had?....decisions , decisions
I am hard to love....this I know.....and I'm even harder to like......the parts of him he is willing to give (owing to my untrustworthy nature) will not satisfy my soul, but it would stop a gap....... until I start playing again......could we survive another fling though????.....he at least gets me somewhat, and more importantly, I get him....Am I ready to abandon my life lesson in patience....have I mastered this art given the great teacherI had?....decisions , decisions
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Longing
Today....I miss the feel of a man.
I miss running my lips and tongue over every contour of his body......I miss seeing his eyes flutter close as my finger tips play over his stomach, his pubic hair, along the sides of his balls and over the shaft, feeling the smoothness of the skin there. I miss the electric shock that visibly runs through his body as my nipples glide down his chest and further down too......I miss watching him bite his lips holding in the evidence of his enjoyment.......(sigh)
Other things missed include:
- The way his muscles spasm in that feel good moment
- The dryness of his lips when you come up for air and brush your lips against his
- My tongue sliding over his, reaching for that spot at the back of his throat
- Nibbling on his lips while I determine how much more pain he can take
- The sound of his breath catching as he tries to maintain his composure
- Taking a moment to admire my handy work and watching as his pulse returns to normal
- My asking him to fuck me after finally having enough of pleasing him
- Feeling and watching him work
- Being subdued and taught a lesson in love making
- Trying to think of something else so that his efforts are not rewarded too soon
- Him directing my action to maximize his stimulation
- Feeling each unsure thrust as he realises he can't hold it in much longer
- Him telling me he's gonna cum
- The motivation that is for me to join in the fun
- My name on his lips and his on mine as we climax and descend together
- Watching him fall asleep afterwards...stroking my hair and kissing my forehead as I play with the source of my pleasure
- Who I Used To Be.
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