I can’t think of a title. Might this be so since I can’t think of any substance either? Perhaps I should just put my hands where I can see them and slowly step away from the keyboard? I can’t, I have something inside me yearning to be free. Maybe it’s just gas? It’s in the pit of my stomach, someplace behind my bellybutton, over to the left…no wait, that’s my spleen…more left, now down, deeper…deeper…there, see it? In the pit of my groin, somewhere in the murky muck of my mad desires, there’s a feeling that needs to be expressed. The problem is that it’s a feeling which cannot be expressed with words…I tried painting, music and dance too, none of that worked…but it won’t stop and writing is the next best thing to taking matters into my own hands. That’s never a pretty sight and it always leaves me less than satisfied than before I started…despite knowing that I love me. Yeah, I need that human touch, more than just a touch too…I’m talking full body contact, blunt force sex!
I’m not going to be delicate here and if you’re offended by mild mommy porn perhaps this might be a good place to stop reading…I’ll be sure to avoid any shade of gray, I tend to think in pulsating vibra-color when it comes to my sexual desires. I’m not a freak, although I will admit that I’ve tried and done some pretty far out things during my day. I’ve fully explored my sexuality, I’ve dabbled in sex with male partners and multiple partners, I was pegged before pegging was even pegged with a name. Leather, lace, latex, rubber and nylon…I’ve been submissive, dominant, a voyeur, an exhibitionist and used to enjoy porn before it was served up fresh daily on my laptop; it was way more weird and fun to go to a porno theater with a chick than watching it in the safety of a television. I have been with women from every race, I have been with women 20 years older than me and 20 years younger than me too and I still don’t have a favorite flavor of women (they’re all yummy good)! I had days of Roman orgies and have been celibate for years at a time too but these days I delve into my mind for my greatest satisfaction and I’m pretty certain sexual energy is very close to divine energies. I believe that fidelity may be the best relationship, but that doesn’t mean monogamy works for everybody all the time. I’ve never been the possessive type, but I despise apathy in all forms and when I care about someone, I need them to care about me too…or suck my cock exceedingly well!
I’m very oral as a lover, I love the taste of flesh. Not just the skin, but the other body fluids too…well, almost all of them, but I really enjoy gliding my tongue through a woman’s secret, delicate folds…exploring her quivering, trembling, moist places of her cunny and the honey dripping from my lips as my fingertips firmly grab her soft ass, squeezing it tightly, raising her hips slightly, gripping her mightily and slightly teasing her for hours on end…I love the ass too, that puckered little very sensitive spot, when the tip of my fingers and tongue dance slightly, a fancy lightening crosses my mind when I taste the sweet/sour as those juicy feelings flow freely between the cheeks, spilling all over the sheets. I love making a mess of it too, what’s the point of clean sheets if not to make them dirty with passion? I love nipples, especially as I hold them close to each other while rubbing the soft skin on the downy of my salt & pepper beard…the neck, the ears…those lips, those eyes…like some guys, I have variations of this practice too. I like the smell of burning cannabis and pussy…when she smokes a joint, or even a cigarette while I’m performing oral pleasures it’s a strange twist I like once in a while…I like the aggressive lover who uses my face as a play toy, sitting and squatting and squirting over head in bed until she collapses upon me, a heap of dead weight wasted with passion.
Yet she only comes to me in the crystal moon rich dreams of every man’s desire, but she comes to me like no other. She and I have perfect harmony, it’s a magical, mysterious connection neither of us understand so neither of us bother, we’re just going with the flow…I know, and I think she too might suspect this, but I could wait forever because I’ve got time. There will be a spell, a place or space and a same time, next year rendezvous and I like to think there’s more, but there not be anything at all. Some may say it’s smoke and mirrors, a vanishing vision of my irrelevant imagination and others simply call me a fool, a noble romantic on a cupid arrow shooting spree…but for me, in my heart and soul, I know somewhere, someplace, she is still out there and so I continue to roll with tide…a man with dreams as big as I needs a women of vision to help see it to life; until then I think I’m doomed to stumble in the dark.
So here I am, alone late at night, I'm fairly certain she too looks at the moon and wonders about what is and what could never be...or could it? It doesn't matter, it's time for this frustrated lover to snuff out his love light and pray-tell perhaps to dream about new, arousing sexual heights...
