when I'm not laid.
It's very, very true. I'm short-tempered, nit-picky, catty, impatient, and generally stressed out. This probably isn't unique at all, but I can tell when I've pushed my limits of abstinence. I think it's going on 3 weeks and I'm just unpleasant to be around. Interviewees are worthless snivels, colleagues are overbearing cunts, interns are whiney wusses, and the general population seems to exhibit extreme retardism.
No-name Joe and I gave it a good ol' college try after dinner and margaritas on Monday after my Stats final, but several factors led to a premature ending. I did some reading on this while at work. Allergy meds, sexy girls, mental unfocusedness. Many things can lead to this situation and it's quite common after the teen years [something I did not know at all]. Needless to say, I was polite and supportive. [I certainly don't need a damaged ego on a week-long vacation in paradise.]
But thank god for [large] mercies. Andy. Oh, Andy. My whole body unraveled like a shoelace. I even did the post-coitus, sex-like-therapy cry. It took me a few minutes to settle in to the kisses and to forget thinking about myself with his tongue in my ass and fingers in my cunt. It took me a bit with eyes closed and fists clenching the bed, with his mouth expertly following my bucking, juicy cunnie and fingers sliding in out in out of my tight bumstar. But, man, when it came when I came when I let go when I forgot if I was coming or going when my hips raised up and my hands grabbed the back of his head. Oh tension tightened and released!
I sighed and trembled and opened my eyes to make sure I was still within gravity. The tear of the wrapper, the soft sound of rubber. "Go slow." It had nothing to do with kegel and all natural tightness wrapping around him as he slid inside me. I even tried to tell my muscles to let him in and to relax. Oh, to be filled with cock. Size does not matter. At this point a finger could be squeezed off by my cunnie. Pushing my thighs open and back. Dropping from 10 feet above sliding in prodding in slamming in.
I know my tits were bouncing and my hands clenched banging on the mattress. I know I put my finger on my button. I know my eyes cracked open to see him vibrating into me. "Fuck fuck fuck I'm going to I'm going to I'm going to cum all over your cock fuck fuck yes yes"
My body collapsed into a puddle of putty. Slowly unlatching unhooking unbinding. And from someplace in the center of my cranium a pulley lifted whatever was trapped under organs deep in my belly. And I sobbed a bit. "Don't laugh." He didn't. And post-coitus or greatly paired, I felt drawn to be sensitive with him. I let my head rub his shoulder over and over like a kid. Like poking and pushing a bit on the playground.
Oh, I'll have good dreams. And pleasant pleasantries tomorrow with patience and friendliness all over again.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
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1 comment:
Puddle of putty? Indeed.
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