Monday, April 26, 2010
In deep love with there temporary fixation and swarm towards the willing and desperate prey.
The violence one needs and must deserve.
Decay of the sight to feed the tired and promised self.
Delieverance of relief that shows no end or consequence...
To seperate from the collection of bias retaliating against this fixing form of ones self. Letting the self child loose to play and to remind.
Allowing the progressive self to first start in a dream like state...
That my almost coached narcissism, my too eager, presently false self image, my faded humbling, will no longer, minute by minute, need supression...
Monday, April 19, 2010
She sinks her teeth into the leather of the steering wheel as I pound out my self satisfying urges. I don’t care that she is young. I don’t care that she’s inexperienced. Her roundness bounces in my lap and she moans in a painful pleasurable moan. The moment makes me feel large in every physical and mental way. My aggression pulses through sweat and flesh. I role her tight blue shirt up the small of her back to expose the spread of her dark needled ink. I look below to see me enter and exit. I tell her to look at me as her face expresses the she is feeling every part of me. She grabs the steering wheel and leans forward. Everything speeds up and she means to yell stop but it is over taken by a groaning yell. She wipes the fogged up glass in front of her. I feel every part of her as I pump her flood of wet. I smell the smell of bodies, lusting bodies.