good lord.
My hormones are all over the place lately.
I talked to my ex-boyfriend today. It's not one of my better ideas, let me tell you. Before I knew it, he said "I can come over if you want..."
It's been 4 years since I was with him. I had a bf after him. I thought about it. I wanted to be impaled so badly by that huge cock ...remembering he is a cyclist (races) and his cardio and stamina was off the chart. I remember when my labia was swollen after playing five times in a row, one night. He knew how to hold back and he held back a lot.
I remember the windstorm at his house. I was sleeping on the side of the bed close to the window. Something smacked hard against the side of the house and I jolted up "That's it, I'm done, not sleeping up here." I just knew a tree limb was going to come through the window. So he got up and went outside and picked up the gas grill back that was thrown and dumped on the patio. No, it wasn't a tree limb near the window.
While he was outside, I drifted back asleep. He came back inside and woke me back up by rolling on top of me and pulling the covers over himself. "What's wrong?" I said half asleep, "Nothing." and slipped inside me. I guess he figured he was wide awake, decided to do something about it. It's odd how I was so easy to please then. But it was never healthy with him and I.
His cock curved upward and he didn't enjoy vaginal sex. Hence the reason we are not together. That and the whole tantrum he threw about me making more money than he did. *sigh* In this economy that could turn on a dime, literally. I never understood his frustration.
I felt guilty for talking to him and breaking the radio silence after all these years. Yet I managed to say "No (don't come over) but Happy Thanksgiving." He did not deserve any contact, though I did. I'm human.
I had to do something with the tension. I hiked today and I am still wound up. So I masturbated. I closed my eyes and let the shower beat down on my lower back and I remember an incident that had nothing to do with my ex.
the powerlessness
the unyeilding need to control my environment.
No it's not my ex-boyfriend I am thinking of.
I feel angry and full of rage. I want to re-frame myself as an aggressor and fuck the pain away in some morbid attempt to regain control; knowing I cannot control anything in this life. It's an unattainable goal, so I over-prepare, am overly-cautious and hyper-aware of my surroundings.
Feelings of guilt and desparity overwhelm me as I'm drenched in the shower. I visualize it falling down against my back and falling away from me. My fingers move lower and deeper inside. I will those feelings to leave as I bring myself to a climax. I get there and I cry. I am wet, but I am dehydrated, exhausted, and my orgasm is powerful.
No exactly the subject matter I hoped to channel to get me off.
I don't think one can aim for happiness, but contentment is possible. Orgasms are possible, but not with him. I feel restless for that but want it with a loving embrace, strong arms around me - when the past is not looking down on me.
I want.
I desire.
I hope.
I fear.
I laugh
I'm absurd.
I want to be fearless.
I want to submit.
I want that release.
When you can share that most vulnerable part of you with someone and know that afterward, you've not lost anything by choosing to trust. He can look at you and say, "It's okay. I can take it and still love you, whether you're fragile or strong."
No, it's so NOT my ex-bf that I am thinking about.
*sigh*
My hormones are all over the place lately.
I talked to my ex-boyfriend today. It's not one of my better ideas, let me tell you. Before I knew it, he said "I can come over if you want..."
It's been 4 years since I was with him. I had a bf after him. I thought about it. I wanted to be impaled so badly by that huge cock ...remembering he is a cyclist (races) and his cardio and stamina was off the chart. I remember when my labia was swollen after playing five times in a row, one night. He knew how to hold back and he held back a lot.
I remember the windstorm at his house. I was sleeping on the side of the bed close to the window. Something smacked hard against the side of the house and I jolted up "That's it, I'm done, not sleeping up here." I just knew a tree limb was going to come through the window. So he got up and went outside and picked up the gas grill back that was thrown and dumped on the patio. No, it wasn't a tree limb near the window.
While he was outside, I drifted back asleep. He came back inside and woke me back up by rolling on top of me and pulling the covers over himself. "What's wrong?" I said half asleep, "Nothing." and slipped inside me. I guess he figured he was wide awake, decided to do something about it. It's odd how I was so easy to please then. But it was never healthy with him and I.
His cock curved upward and he didn't enjoy vaginal sex. Hence the reason we are not together. That and the whole tantrum he threw about me making more money than he did. *sigh* In this economy that could turn on a dime, literally. I never understood his frustration.
I felt guilty for talking to him and breaking the radio silence after all these years. Yet I managed to say "No (don't come over) but Happy Thanksgiving." He did not deserve any contact, though I did. I'm human.
I had to do something with the tension. I hiked today and I am still wound up. So I masturbated. I closed my eyes and let the shower beat down on my lower back and I remember an incident that had nothing to do with my ex.
the powerlessness
the unyeilding need to control my environment.
No it's not my ex-boyfriend I am thinking of.
I feel angry and full of rage. I want to re-frame myself as an aggressor and fuck the pain away in some morbid attempt to regain control; knowing I cannot control anything in this life. It's an unattainable goal, so I over-prepare, am overly-cautious and hyper-aware of my surroundings.
Feelings of guilt and desparity overwhelm me as I'm drenched in the shower. I visualize it falling down against my back and falling away from me. My fingers move lower and deeper inside. I will those feelings to leave as I bring myself to a climax. I get there and I cry. I am wet, but I am dehydrated, exhausted, and my orgasm is powerful.
No exactly the subject matter I hoped to channel to get me off.
I don't think one can aim for happiness, but contentment is possible. Orgasms are possible, but not with him. I feel restless for that but want it with a loving embrace, strong arms around me - when the past is not looking down on me.
I want.
I desire.
I hope.
I fear.
I laugh
I'm absurd.
I want to be fearless.
I want to submit.
I want that release.
When you can share that most vulnerable part of you with someone and know that afterward, you've not lost anything by choosing to trust. He can look at you and say, "It's okay. I can take it and still love you, whether you're fragile or strong."
No, it's so NOT my ex-bf that I am thinking about.
*sigh*
