just before my arousal level rises to the point that my cock just starts to harden, i feel a unique sense of sexual awareness. perhaps it’s my heart rate quickening, my blood pressure rising, or my skin becoming more sensitive.
today, i’ve been right at that point, that junction, between arousal and non-arousal, all fucking day.
jesus, it’s driving me fucking insane.
it’s enough to be distracted. it’s enough to have dirty thoughts about every woman i’ve seen today. it’s enough to write about. but it’s not quite enough to have to find someplace i can be alone and whack one out to get some relief.
oh, fuck it, maybe i should anyway. thoughts of the curly blonde i spoke to at my 9:30 meeting will probably do the trick. back in 10.
i still check my phone in the middle of the night, hoping to find a message from you.
i still get hard when i remember you teasing me with drunken words of desire.
i still get dizzy from random thoughts of silly possibilities.
i still masturbate while watching porn side by side with your photograph.
i still come when i imagine you fucking me, and simply saying hello.
last night, i met your cousin. it was late at night and we were on the same bus. i recognised her accent. i could have sworn it was you until i turned around. we talked and talked and talked, until all of the other passengers got off. then, she sucked and sucked and sucked my cock, until she got me off. she sucks cock differently to you – she’s a little bit faster, and doesn’t use her tongue as much. i guess that’s part of the reason i’m writing this – to tell you that she said to say hi, and that you suck cock better than your cousin.
tell me about the wet kiss of your own pain. your screams need not be silent, although i’m quite open to the idea of an act of therapy on the kitchen table.
she is willing to be caught, sauntering before him, whimpering to his commands.
her tail flicks, and she falls to his feet in surrender.
he picks her up, ready to feast upon her blushing flesh. she writhes excitedly, awaiting the first bite.
he roars, majestically, and holds her up to the light. his cubs emerge from their hiding and gather around their father.
he tosses the gazelle to the ground and the cubs pounce, feeding,
the gift their has brought for them.
it is too late, she cannot escape. hungry, insatiable boys biting,
she is terrified, satiated, and lost
all at the same time.
i’d like to write, just for you.
i’d write with you before me, naked, looking me in the eyes.
i’d write as you bare yourself to me, and begin to masturbate.
i want to see the love in your eyes when you come, just for me to see, but for all the world to read.
here’s a fun idea. why don’t you get wickedly drunk, create a secret email address, then send me dirty photos of yourself that would split up your marriage if your husband ever found out. i promise i won’t tell anyone. if you’re a bit unsure, i don’t mind if you leave out the getting drunk part.