Today was the day of boring. Seriously. I think I could have not gone to work, fished coins out of a local fountain and made more money. It was terrible.
I thought, before I got on to my nest post, which will undoubtably be inappropriate, I would tell you all that Kitten has allowed me to link to her blog in my blogroll. She's under Tyger. You should go tell her hi. I'm sure she'd appreciate it.
Also, I want to tell all of you who have been leaving me comments, and who have been with me all this time, I love you. I am so glad to have met all of you. You have enriched my life and made it better. I've learned so much from all of you over the years. I can never thank you enough. You are wonderful people and I am blessed to know you.
Off to write terrible things now. Hopefully well.
AGxx
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Talking to My Lover
This is a post for all my lovers, I'm thinking of you tonight.
**************
Tonight, I just want to talk to you. I want to tell you everything I've never told you, all the secrets I hide inside my heart. I want to tell you all the things you make me think of.
I remember looking at you for the first time, and I couldn't look away. I remember the way you looked, in the dimness, in the dark shimmering cloak of night. I remember the way your hair caught the light. I remember the way your teeth gleamed brightly when you smiled at me.
I remember when you took my hand, and you wouldn't let go. You held on too long, you squeezed me too tight. I could feel it then, before anything else happened, in the soft, gentle pressure you gave me in that moment. You were going to be mine. I was meant to belong to you.
I remember the first time you wrapped your arms around me. You held me so close, so near you. I could smell your cologne, I could smell your shampoo. I breathed in the soapy scent of your neck. Even now, after all this time, if I smell them; your soap, your cologne, your shampoo- the memory of that moment comes rushing back to me and I feel you all over me again.
Do you remember our first kiss? I can't forget it. I can't ever let go that hushed breathless moment when our lips touched for the first time. There was so much there. The intensity, like the wind in a storm, sweeping over us. You were so deep, so full, I couldn't let that moment go. It became something more, a second kiss, and a third, and I thought to myself why did we wait so long for this?
There are moments, too, that must seem so simple, so trite, like you would never remember them. Do you remember walking barefoot through the grass with me? I remember it, I can't forget. It tickled, it teased, brushing against my bare ankles like your caresses. It was a sweet moment, the sky seemed farther away than it ever had, when you took ahold of my hand and led me through the rustling green kisses. The whole world separated from us, and it was you and me walking through this singular plane, a world we had created together. No one else was in it, but we were never lonely.
When I danced with you that first time? Do you remember the way your hips felt against mine? Do you remember how I threw my head back and laughed? There was nothing else for me to do. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure how to act. I only knew I didn't want to spoil that moment when you began to dance with me. You made me sweat. You made me move. You move me still. But that night, I was more graceful than I had ever been, I was more beautiful than I had ever been. I was sex, and longing and laughter and happiness all in the same moment because you danced with me.
There are other things too. Long langourous drives. Do you remember those? The wind whipped through my hair as we drove, probably too fast, and talked like we would never talk to each other again. I remember, the windows down, the air rushing past me, how amazing it felt to reach across the seat and hold your hand while we drove. We sang, too loudly, to the music on the radio, and when the singing was done, we were quiet, still, and being togeher was the only thing we needed.
Still, there are some things I think of now, that I think of all the time. Your voice, for example. I can't stop it from echoing in my head. It sounds like everything. There is a symphony resting inside you and it plays for me whenever you speak. Sometimes it is high, and the flutes dance as you laugh with me. Other times I can hear the low sonorous tones of the strings as you weep. Your sadness has an unearthly beauty, and painful as it is, I still find myself listening with wonder.
But your whisper, that is my favorite thing. Like wind in the trees. Your whisper is my secret and yours. Its the sound we make only between us. Its the secrets we never tell but share only in look, and in touch and in hard to hear moments when we're together.
I remember it, the sound of your whisper in my ear as we loved each other. I can hear you now, telling me how beautiful I am, how much you need me, and I feel you pressed on top of me like we never stopped and you are here still. I hear you saying my name and to me, for once, it sounds like something beautiful, something more than my name. You say my name and I hear a million other things. I hear my desire and yours. I hear my need. I hear longing and love and lust. I hear the pain of our separation and the joy of our union. I would wait, forever and forever again, to hear you whisper my name.
Before you were mine, did you ever feel me near you and ache? I did, surely you must know, you must have known then or how would we have gotten to where we were? It ws the simple things: you patting my back, you hugging me goodbye, your gentle press of hand when you had something personal to say. They made me crazy. I remember once, you leaned in a brushed my hair out of my eyes- such a simple gesture. In that moment all I wanted was to lean in and kiss you, to taste you in my mouth, and see if I was dreaming all of the tenderness I was feeling.
Later, when we had been together, none of those touches lost their meaning. You could still raise the hair on my arm with a touch. You could still undo me with a glance. It only took a word, so brief, to bring my desire bubbling to the surface. I never grew tired of the look of you, or the sound of your voice. I never stopped wanting you to touch me. I never grew bored with the press of your body against mine.
You were there, you know, the moment I gave everything away. You were the one I gave it to. You took my heart inside you with a touch. I let myelf be completely yours. It was heaven, that night, when we finally let ourselves be together. I'd never known anything like that first touch. I was a new person the moment your skin touched mine. The world expanded and you made me into something different with your mouth and hands on my body. You made me into something I can't escape even now. I wouldn't want to, because I would never have been yours.
We parted. We had to. I hated every second of it. There's more pain in the goodbye to you than I would have ever admitted in person. There was more torture in letting you go than I would ever have told you outside of this place. The sight of you walking away from me, knowing you were no longer mine...it still cuts deep. It makes my eyes tear to think of it. And then, with those tears, I think of yours. You thought I wouldn't see them. How could I not? I saw them in your eyes, unshed, and the sadness there drug me down further than you will ever know. When you were gone, I sank down, curled up into a blanket and I tried to cry those tears for you. I couldn't make them come, so I lit up a cigarette, and let the smoke do my crying for me. I was hoarse the next day from our pain. But I didn't mind, I was sharing something with you.
There are things I should have told you. Things I want to tell you now.
I loved you almost immediately. There was never a moment I didn't want to be yours.
I love you still, in spite of everything. I could never truly stop loving you.
I was wrong, too many times, and I should have told you then. I'm sorry.
I was stupid and blind and foolish. Sometimes on purpose, but not always.
You made me feel more special, more beautiful, than I have ever felt before. Thank you.
I still think of you, and I wonder if you think of me. If you do, I hope its with fondness. I always think of you fondly. I think of our moments, the ones we stole, the ones we cherished, the ones of pure unbridled ecstasy.
I miss you. More than I could say.
I love you.
You're beautiful.
AGxx
**************
Tonight, I just want to talk to you. I want to tell you everything I've never told you, all the secrets I hide inside my heart. I want to tell you all the things you make me think of.
I remember looking at you for the first time, and I couldn't look away. I remember the way you looked, in the dimness, in the dark shimmering cloak of night. I remember the way your hair caught the light. I remember the way your teeth gleamed brightly when you smiled at me.
I remember when you took my hand, and you wouldn't let go. You held on too long, you squeezed me too tight. I could feel it then, before anything else happened, in the soft, gentle pressure you gave me in that moment. You were going to be mine. I was meant to belong to you.
I remember the first time you wrapped your arms around me. You held me so close, so near you. I could smell your cologne, I could smell your shampoo. I breathed in the soapy scent of your neck. Even now, after all this time, if I smell them; your soap, your cologne, your shampoo- the memory of that moment comes rushing back to me and I feel you all over me again.
Do you remember our first kiss? I can't forget it. I can't ever let go that hushed breathless moment when our lips touched for the first time. There was so much there. The intensity, like the wind in a storm, sweeping over us. You were so deep, so full, I couldn't let that moment go. It became something more, a second kiss, and a third, and I thought to myself why did we wait so long for this?
There are moments, too, that must seem so simple, so trite, like you would never remember them. Do you remember walking barefoot through the grass with me? I remember it, I can't forget. It tickled, it teased, brushing against my bare ankles like your caresses. It was a sweet moment, the sky seemed farther away than it ever had, when you took ahold of my hand and led me through the rustling green kisses. The whole world separated from us, and it was you and me walking through this singular plane, a world we had created together. No one else was in it, but we were never lonely.
When I danced with you that first time? Do you remember the way your hips felt against mine? Do you remember how I threw my head back and laughed? There was nothing else for me to do. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure how to act. I only knew I didn't want to spoil that moment when you began to dance with me. You made me sweat. You made me move. You move me still. But that night, I was more graceful than I had ever been, I was more beautiful than I had ever been. I was sex, and longing and laughter and happiness all in the same moment because you danced with me.
There are other things too. Long langourous drives. Do you remember those? The wind whipped through my hair as we drove, probably too fast, and talked like we would never talk to each other again. I remember, the windows down, the air rushing past me, how amazing it felt to reach across the seat and hold your hand while we drove. We sang, too loudly, to the music on the radio, and when the singing was done, we were quiet, still, and being togeher was the only thing we needed.
Still, there are some things I think of now, that I think of all the time. Your voice, for example. I can't stop it from echoing in my head. It sounds like everything. There is a symphony resting inside you and it plays for me whenever you speak. Sometimes it is high, and the flutes dance as you laugh with me. Other times I can hear the low sonorous tones of the strings as you weep. Your sadness has an unearthly beauty, and painful as it is, I still find myself listening with wonder.
But your whisper, that is my favorite thing. Like wind in the trees. Your whisper is my secret and yours. Its the sound we make only between us. Its the secrets we never tell but share only in look, and in touch and in hard to hear moments when we're together.
I remember it, the sound of your whisper in my ear as we loved each other. I can hear you now, telling me how beautiful I am, how much you need me, and I feel you pressed on top of me like we never stopped and you are here still. I hear you saying my name and to me, for once, it sounds like something beautiful, something more than my name. You say my name and I hear a million other things. I hear my desire and yours. I hear my need. I hear longing and love and lust. I hear the pain of our separation and the joy of our union. I would wait, forever and forever again, to hear you whisper my name.
Before you were mine, did you ever feel me near you and ache? I did, surely you must know, you must have known then or how would we have gotten to where we were? It ws the simple things: you patting my back, you hugging me goodbye, your gentle press of hand when you had something personal to say. They made me crazy. I remember once, you leaned in a brushed my hair out of my eyes- such a simple gesture. In that moment all I wanted was to lean in and kiss you, to taste you in my mouth, and see if I was dreaming all of the tenderness I was feeling.
Later, when we had been together, none of those touches lost their meaning. You could still raise the hair on my arm with a touch. You could still undo me with a glance. It only took a word, so brief, to bring my desire bubbling to the surface. I never grew tired of the look of you, or the sound of your voice. I never stopped wanting you to touch me. I never grew bored with the press of your body against mine.
You were there, you know, the moment I gave everything away. You were the one I gave it to. You took my heart inside you with a touch. I let myelf be completely yours. It was heaven, that night, when we finally let ourselves be together. I'd never known anything like that first touch. I was a new person the moment your skin touched mine. The world expanded and you made me into something different with your mouth and hands on my body. You made me into something I can't escape even now. I wouldn't want to, because I would never have been yours.
We parted. We had to. I hated every second of it. There's more pain in the goodbye to you than I would have ever admitted in person. There was more torture in letting you go than I would ever have told you outside of this place. The sight of you walking away from me, knowing you were no longer mine...it still cuts deep. It makes my eyes tear to think of it. And then, with those tears, I think of yours. You thought I wouldn't see them. How could I not? I saw them in your eyes, unshed, and the sadness there drug me down further than you will ever know. When you were gone, I sank down, curled up into a blanket and I tried to cry those tears for you. I couldn't make them come, so I lit up a cigarette, and let the smoke do my crying for me. I was hoarse the next day from our pain. But I didn't mind, I was sharing something with you.
There are things I should have told you. Things I want to tell you now.
I loved you almost immediately. There was never a moment I didn't want to be yours.
I love you still, in spite of everything. I could never truly stop loving you.
I was wrong, too many times, and I should have told you then. I'm sorry.
I was stupid and blind and foolish. Sometimes on purpose, but not always.
You made me feel more special, more beautiful, than I have ever felt before. Thank you.
I still think of you, and I wonder if you think of me. If you do, I hope its with fondness. I always think of you fondly. I think of our moments, the ones we stole, the ones we cherished, the ones of pure unbridled ecstasy.
I miss you. More than I could say.
I love you.
You're beautiful.
AGxx
A Long Walk
I promised I would get back to normal writing today, so here's a boring life update.
I've been writing more, as you can see. There is a high liklihood that there will be more and more short peices coming up on the blog in the future. I'm liking that I am in the mood to write, even if it is only short stuff, even if it is only nonsense. It keeps makign me think that sometime soon I'll shake the muse loose and get back to work on the novel.
Kitten started her own blog today. If she decides to update frequently and will allow me to, I'll probably add her to my blogroll. It would be interesting, I think, to have an additional perspective on the life we lead together. Of course, I don't know that she'll want me reading it, but then- that doesn't mean you cant. It was fun to go through the setup and remember how frustrated I felt when I picked out this blog template.
She decided to do it this morning, and we talked about it over breakfast. It made me remember the people I met when I first started blogging, and how I got into the world I am now, where people know me as Alecya and are interested in my life though we've never seen eachother. Some of them are still my friends. Aravis and Swiss, in my blogroll, have been there since almost the beginning. I recall sending Swiss a message on facebook a few months ago, noting that it has been seven years since we started talking. Seven. That's longer than I've been friends with Perpet and Sakura. In fact, I could go backand find my first posts about them in the old blog, if I wanted to. It made me think of the people I've somehow let go, or the blogs that are missing from my roll now, and I wonder what they are up to, how they're lives have turned out, and I rather miss them.
Of course, there are a few, like me, who went missing on the blogs but I never lost touch with. People you wouldn't (or maybe a few of you do) know. Flash, Hyde and Wingring. I still see Mark Reed around every now and again, and I was fortunate enough to meet his brother through facebook. What fun guys. Good lord, wasn't that a long time ago? I remember a blogger called Mr. Mystic, whom I still think about all the time, and hope is doing well. I remember he always inspired me.
Anyway, the trip down memory lane was fun. I ws prompted to remember the origins of my original blog name, how this one got its name and how I used to have an erotica blog that disappeared long ago. I miss that thing, and wish I hadn't felt guilty about it, because really, it was Beloved's hang-up and not mine that brought that to an end. Actually, Swiss commented earlier today about one of the last posts, and mentioned I was good at it, that I used to be. It made me smile. I don't know if that;s necissarily true, me being good at it (though Itake the compliment kindly friend) but I do remember how much I love it. I think that's what shows, isn't it? My love of the erotica genre, and most likely, my love of sex.
Because lets face it, I love sex. I don't think its possible to be in a relationship like the one I'm in without loving sex, because there's a lot to have. When you have two partners needs to meet...I do have my hands full. But sex. Sex! Wow, I don't think there's ever been a time when I didn't love it. Even when I was with BBD and not really getting any, either from my repugnance or his own, it was always there, pulsing and teasing me. I think there's somethign that's a little bit wrong with me, honestly, there's got to be some sort of condition. I think of it all the time. Its there in the back of my mind. When I look at anyone, anyone at all, not a just a woman, it seems like my eyes automatically seek out those things that make them sexy. I have to admit, I don't always find it. But if its there, I'll notice it. And its not an "I want to get laid" thing, either, with strangers. I just like to see the strange beauty in the people I encounter. I suppose it does make my job more interesting. I suppose you cold sttribute that to my nature, that I want to love people and the best way I know to love is through the physical aspect, but that probably isn't right either.
Its more than that though. The girls give me a hard time, because it seems like I'm The Todd on Scruubs sometimes. Everything seems like a double entendre around me. I actually made an effort to behave, to not do it, when we went to the zoo the other day (see prior posts). The girls entreated me. Said I was making some of our friends more bashful because of it. I did it a few times without thinking. Not like, on purpose, but they took it the way I would have it I had meant to be teasing, and just like that I saw how I make people think about it anyway.
It might also be noted, that trip to the zoo, we had been making an effort to set up The Lifeguard and Black Magic. That was an epic fail. In fact, I think I'm still in the doghouse for that one with Lifegaurd. I'm not sure how Black Magic feels about the epic fail, since she isn't really speaking to me right now. Again, a story for another day, assuming she stops talking to me permanantly. I know she reads here, and it would be cold of me to air her dirty laundry without asking first. I try to be a good friend even if I fail. I digress. Point is, the girls seemed to think that Lifegaurd was feeling more bashful than usual because of my joking and the effect that it had on Black Magic. I don't think this is the case. I rerained as much as possible anyway, in case I was wrong.
The long and short, I suppose, is that writing erotica is a good outlet for me. Its like making something constructive out of somethign that would otherwise waste my time.
In other news, I did get to have a nice long conversation with Perpet last night. It was so good to catch up with her at last. The time difference between us now makes calling impossible without inconveniencign at least one of us. Either way, I was up quite late last night, and I enjoyed staying up waaay past my bedtime to text her. I have to admit, I like the texting. She and I are able to both talk at once. The conversations move faster. It cracks me up. WE probably covered at least 6 hours worth of talking in 3 hours of texting last night. Hooray for us.
It turns out, and I assume she doesn't mind me saying so, she misses me like I miss her. I was thinking about it the other day, and really, since she left almost a year ago, I haven't had that once person I can talk to or vent to or whatever to. I have al ot of great friends, don't get me wrong, but its hard to find a person that I trust with all my secrets. Its a different kind of relationship, with the two of us, because there are no serets. There isnt any mystery between the two of us. When you honestly love your best friend, it amkes such a difference. I do, too. I love Perpet. I love her like I love my wife, like I love Oscelot. Not romantically, that is, but with the same devotion and intensity. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, we my world to crumble, or hers, she and I would be there together fighting whatever it is. Also, having slept with her (yes, yes I have and it took us way to long to get to it if you ask me) the whole problem of attraction has been solved. I would say we got it out of our systems, but that isnt necissarily so. Its more that we can let it go now, and be friends, because we don't have to wonder. We already know. It was great, we had fun, now lets get back to the business of supporting eachother and being best pals. (Isn't that right, Perpet? Back me up here:))
Either way, I love her and she's a great lady and its been really hard not being able to ring her up for a drink or a bitchfest of whatever it is we did when she was here. I was terrified that her arrival in the Rose City would be the signal of my demise as best pal, not because I think her fickly, but it seemed like physical closeness was so important.
I shoud have known better. Look at you, my longtime readers, look at Perpet, look at the people I love who are far away and love me still. Turns out distance doesn't change anything, really, except the location itself. It means I travel more, I text more, I burn up my cell minutes more, because I can't have them there on my couch or in the park that we would go and walk to when I was having a bad day. It means I check my facebook more frequently and I email more vociferously. I means my camera is getting a workout. But my love for her, nd all my friends that are father from me than I would like, it hasn't changed.
Wow. One hell of a ramble, huh? Get back to the emo and the erotica, Alecya. Its not nearly so boring, eh?
Oh, and for the record, all my lurking buddies, I enabled the comments so you could leave me messages to. I know you're out there, because I check my stats. Talk to me. I like making new friends.
I'm off to write something more salacious. Or whiney. I'm not sure yet. Maybe a bit of both. We'll see.
I love you all.
AGxx
Oh, and in case you're interested, that's me on the carosel in the center of the Kansas City Zoo. We took that pic last summer. I just thought you might like to see something that isn't me in that blue shirt. Plus, my thumbnails on facebook are getting boring.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Lap Dance
Okay. I lied. I got a request. So, another one. In the same night. I'm going to be a mess when I finally hit the sack.
I'm editing this to add, I was listening to goldfrapp when I was writing this, if you want a soundtrack.
*************
"Dance for me."
It wasn't a request. Not really. The command in her voice was there. I could see that it was what she wanted. How could she not?
All those years ago, when she saw me, that first time, wasn't that what I had been doing?
Dancing. Lost in the music. Lost in myself and the movement of my body.
She already had music playing. I didn't have to wait.
I nodded, simply, and led her to the couch; pushing her back. I wasn't gentle. I wasn't kind. I didn't have to be. I was hers, always. Tonight, though, I was going to show her she was mine as well.
There was a pulse to the music, and I found it. Soft, insistent, throbbing for me.
She was watching, and I could see in her eyes that she wanted me already. I could see in her eyes the desire she couldn't hide. I loved it.
A throaty chuckle worked its way up my throat as I slid my shirt over my head. I tossed it beside her and moved to straddle her lap.
She shuddered beneath me.
It was easy, too easy, as her eyes raked up and down the line of my body. She took it all in, the black bra, my breasts swelling beneath it, the ivory gleam of my skin. I leaned into her, and let my hair fall like a silk curtain over her eyes. I could feel her gaze still, between the chestnut tangles and curls. I could hear her breath before I felt it, moving my hair slightly.
I tossed it back, arching my body back and away from her. my neck, my chest, my stomach in a perfect line, teasing her, tempting her. I ground my hips against her, pushing into her as I moved back and away, giing her a view of my body.
She moved for me. Her hands reached out and I felt her fingertips brush against the silk and lace of my bra.
"No," I smiled at her firmly. "You're not allowed to do that."
I took her hands and moved them behind her head, teasing her with my closeness as I did. She groaned softly, and I couldn't help but smile again.
I stood, slowly, sensuously, swiveling my hips so that she could see the matching black silk band of my thong below the ruffles of my skirt. I kept moving to that slow, throbbing pulse. I glanced at her over my shoulder and I spread my legs and leaned to the ground, tempting her.
I could see her strain. She wanted to move. I wanted her to move too, but not yet.
Slowly, so slowly, I slid the skirt down. My hips exposed, my thighs bare, I danced for her to the rythm of the music, and our pulse. I could see it in her chest as she breathed, I could hear it in the soft noises from her mouth. We were pulsing together, we were moving together, she and I.
I backed into her, my ass firmly planted against her, my legs falling full over hers. I leaned back, pressed against her heaving chest, my hair over her neck, my head beside hers. I turned, every so slightly, and licked her.
Swiveling, I pulled myself into her lap properly, my legs bent gently over her before I extended one, slowly, so painfully slow, beneath her nose. My ankle slid behind her neck, drawing her head forward.
"Kiss me. Once. and be sweet about it," I told her.
Her lips moved obediently, gently pressing my ankle, then my calf, then my knee as I moved it beside her mouth. I lay back, my head on the couch, looking up at her.
Desire, raw and untamed was flickering in her eyes. I loved it, loved my power over her, loved the thought that she wanted me so badly it hurt.
I slid up, up again, kneeling over her. My legs across hers, straddling her again, I listened to the music change to something slower, headier.
"More?"
"Yes, please." She was breathless.
Wordlessly I reached behind me, unhooked the black lace of my bra and let it fall between us. I leaned into her, softly, gently, feeling the cotton of her shirt scratching against my skin. Her head tilted back and she closed her eyes in pleasure.
As she tilted her head back I moved closer, sliding one breast, then the other, slowly and carefully beside her face, close to her lips, and down her body. I never stopped moving, not once, as I moved my hips against her, my stomach warm and soft on her shirt and then her jeans.
I knelt beween her legs and looked up at her.
"Watch this. Watch me."
I fell back then, lifting my legs for her, spreading them wide, letting her see the fullness of my body as I sprawled out on the floor. My hands in my hair, my back arched shrply, I lifted my hips, again and again, for her to gaze at. I rolled onto my stomach and let her look at the perfect lines of my back before moving my ass against her, nudging her legs wider apart as I teased her and danced slowly to the rythym she had set for me.
On my back again, my legs up again on each side of her knees, hips lifted, and I asked, knowing hte answer.
"Shall I?"
"Please. Yes."
I slid the silk and lace confection from my hips and flipped them lightly into her lap. But she wasn't looking there. She was gazing at me, legs spread wide for her, laying in the floor, looking like a fallen angel.
It took me no time to pull myself into her arms again, this time with her help. I didn't object, no- I couldn't.
The music began its insistent rise, moving harder and faster for me. I didn't want to stop her. I felt her hands upon my hips as I rode her and her passion for me. I could feel the strength in her fingers as the nails dug into my bone.
Ecstasy, in that moment, I could feel it in her. I could feel it in the roughness of her jeans and the cotton of her shirt. I could feel it in her hands and she stroked my hips and my back and my chest. I pushed her back and felt her mouth close over my nipples and I sighed.
I pulled away, so slightly, so gently, and titled her face back to look at me. I gazed at her, and took in the perfect pout of her parted lips, the sweetness of her breath on my body and the unbridled lust in her eyes. I moved my hips again, gently, and felt her rise up to meet me.
"Kiss me," I bade her.
She did, gently, sucking my lower lip into her mouth.
"Do you like it when I dance?"
"Yes."
"Good. Take me to your room, and dance with me."
She kissed me again, lifting me gently, and we did.
I'm editing this to add, I was listening to goldfrapp when I was writing this, if you want a soundtrack.
*************
"Dance for me."
It wasn't a request. Not really. The command in her voice was there. I could see that it was what she wanted. How could she not?
All those years ago, when she saw me, that first time, wasn't that what I had been doing?
Dancing. Lost in the music. Lost in myself and the movement of my body.
She already had music playing. I didn't have to wait.
I nodded, simply, and led her to the couch; pushing her back. I wasn't gentle. I wasn't kind. I didn't have to be. I was hers, always. Tonight, though, I was going to show her she was mine as well.
There was a pulse to the music, and I found it. Soft, insistent, throbbing for me.
She was watching, and I could see in her eyes that she wanted me already. I could see in her eyes the desire she couldn't hide. I loved it.
A throaty chuckle worked its way up my throat as I slid my shirt over my head. I tossed it beside her and moved to straddle her lap.
She shuddered beneath me.
It was easy, too easy, as her eyes raked up and down the line of my body. She took it all in, the black bra, my breasts swelling beneath it, the ivory gleam of my skin. I leaned into her, and let my hair fall like a silk curtain over her eyes. I could feel her gaze still, between the chestnut tangles and curls. I could hear her breath before I felt it, moving my hair slightly.
I tossed it back, arching my body back and away from her. my neck, my chest, my stomach in a perfect line, teasing her, tempting her. I ground my hips against her, pushing into her as I moved back and away, giing her a view of my body.
She moved for me. Her hands reached out and I felt her fingertips brush against the silk and lace of my bra.
"No," I smiled at her firmly. "You're not allowed to do that."
I took her hands and moved them behind her head, teasing her with my closeness as I did. She groaned softly, and I couldn't help but smile again.
I stood, slowly, sensuously, swiveling my hips so that she could see the matching black silk band of my thong below the ruffles of my skirt. I kept moving to that slow, throbbing pulse. I glanced at her over my shoulder and I spread my legs and leaned to the ground, tempting her.
I could see her strain. She wanted to move. I wanted her to move too, but not yet.
Slowly, so slowly, I slid the skirt down. My hips exposed, my thighs bare, I danced for her to the rythm of the music, and our pulse. I could see it in her chest as she breathed, I could hear it in the soft noises from her mouth. We were pulsing together, we were moving together, she and I.
I backed into her, my ass firmly planted against her, my legs falling full over hers. I leaned back, pressed against her heaving chest, my hair over her neck, my head beside hers. I turned, every so slightly, and licked her.
Swiveling, I pulled myself into her lap properly, my legs bent gently over her before I extended one, slowly, so painfully slow, beneath her nose. My ankle slid behind her neck, drawing her head forward.
"Kiss me. Once. and be sweet about it," I told her.
Her lips moved obediently, gently pressing my ankle, then my calf, then my knee as I moved it beside her mouth. I lay back, my head on the couch, looking up at her.
Desire, raw and untamed was flickering in her eyes. I loved it, loved my power over her, loved the thought that she wanted me so badly it hurt.
I slid up, up again, kneeling over her. My legs across hers, straddling her again, I listened to the music change to something slower, headier.
"More?"
"Yes, please." She was breathless.
Wordlessly I reached behind me, unhooked the black lace of my bra and let it fall between us. I leaned into her, softly, gently, feeling the cotton of her shirt scratching against my skin. Her head tilted back and she closed her eyes in pleasure.
As she tilted her head back I moved closer, sliding one breast, then the other, slowly and carefully beside her face, close to her lips, and down her body. I never stopped moving, not once, as I moved my hips against her, my stomach warm and soft on her shirt and then her jeans.
I knelt beween her legs and looked up at her.
"Watch this. Watch me."
I fell back then, lifting my legs for her, spreading them wide, letting her see the fullness of my body as I sprawled out on the floor. My hands in my hair, my back arched shrply, I lifted my hips, again and again, for her to gaze at. I rolled onto my stomach and let her look at the perfect lines of my back before moving my ass against her, nudging her legs wider apart as I teased her and danced slowly to the rythym she had set for me.
On my back again, my legs up again on each side of her knees, hips lifted, and I asked, knowing hte answer.
"Shall I?"
"Please. Yes."
I slid the silk and lace confection from my hips and flipped them lightly into her lap. But she wasn't looking there. She was gazing at me, legs spread wide for her, laying in the floor, looking like a fallen angel.
It took me no time to pull myself into her arms again, this time with her help. I didn't object, no- I couldn't.
The music began its insistent rise, moving harder and faster for me. I didn't want to stop her. I felt her hands upon my hips as I rode her and her passion for me. I could feel the strength in her fingers as the nails dug into my bone.
Ecstasy, in that moment, I could feel it in her. I could feel it in the roughness of her jeans and the cotton of her shirt. I could feel it in her hands and she stroked my hips and my back and my chest. I pushed her back and felt her mouth close over my nipples and I sighed.
I pulled away, so slightly, so gently, and titled her face back to look at me. I gazed at her, and took in the perfect pout of her parted lips, the sweetness of her breath on my body and the unbridled lust in her eyes. I moved my hips again, gently, and felt her rise up to meet me.
"Kiss me," I bade her.
She did, gently, sucking my lower lip into her mouth.
"Do you like it when I dance?"
"Yes."
"Good. Take me to your room, and dance with me."
She kissed me again, lifting me gently, and we did.
Taking Me
Practice for love scenes in the new books. Dirty, adult content. Skip if its not your thing. Back to normal commentary tomorrow. I hope.
Serioudly. this is not for a child's eyes.
Have a naughty night friends. I know I will.
AGxx
***********
Her eyes were perfect. The shimmered in the dark like two candles lighting me down a darkened hallway to the bed I found myself laying on. They were deep and full of promises. They were all promises I'd hope she kept.
Her lips were heaven. They were soft and warm and wet. I sighed as she stroked them over mind, quickly, teasing me, making me want more. The press of them grew harder, rougher, and I could feel her breath hot against my mouth, filling it with the heat of her desire. Her tongue was candy as it slipped inside me, stroking me everywhere and tempting me to more wicked things.
I slid her fingers inside my mouth, they were salt and warm and tasted like me and her together. Licking at them, sucking them, I felt more wanton than I ever had before. Our exchange perfect, mouths close fingers moving in and out of eachothers mouths. I couldn't stop it, I didn't want to.
She streaked the wetness from my mouth and hers down my cheeks and twined our hands together as she pulled me below her. She never let go, not for a moment, as she spilled her body over mine. She pressed hard into me, as I lay there, helpless beneath her, wanting her to take me, top me, in a way I had never felt before.
I knew, in that moment, my surrender was imminent.
She stripped me bare. There is no other way to put it. I lay bemeath her as she pulled me free of everything that kept me from her. I shivered; from the cold air against my body, from the look in her eyes and the power she had over me. I wanted to give it up.
Her hands were gentle, infinately gentle as she stroked my face, looking down at me like I was a work of art, a picture she wanted to preserve in her mind for all her life. She moved down, my neck and my collarbone receiving similar attentions, as though she were memorizing every part of me, as though she never wanted to forget. I hoped she wouldn't.
I hoped she wouldn't forget, but recall it again and again as she stroked my breasts and teased me to the point of begging and whimpering. "Please, please, please," it was all I could say, a single, echoing refrain in my head that spilled past my lips before I could stop it.
Her legs were strong, so strong as she held me down with them, lowering herself so she could lick and kiss the places she was touching. My mind loosed, and all I saw was a swirl of color and emotion behind my eyes as they fluttered open and shut. Her hair was soft as I tangled my hands in it, drawing her yet closer to me again.
But it was her skin, the warm sensual heat of her body that finally sent me to the edge. Her breasts against mine, her stomach hot and firm against me, it was all of my yearnings in a single movement, as she slid over and down me. There was nothing in that moment, nothing but the strength of her arms and the touch of her body all over me, as I began my refrain again.
Please. Please. Please.
If there was a moment to beg, this one seemed perfect. If there was a moment to lose it all, this was it. I couldn't wait, not a second longer, for her to take me.
My hands slid over her body, down her back- screatching as I went. I grabbed her and pulled her firmly against me. Her wet, perfect heat was almost more than I could bear. The feeling of her push and release was all I could have wanted, all I hoped for, and yet so far from the release I was wanting.
Her hands, finally, finally, moved into me, and I knew completion at last. She and I, joined together, that was perfection. That was true pleasure. Her golden, husky voice whispering in my ear of my beauty, her need for me, and how I felt- it was everything. I echoed her, I called back to her, as she moved. Her hips and hands and breasts never stopped, her mouth at once on my neck, my mouth, my shoulders and my ears.
Please. Please. Please.
There was a moment I felt it. There was a perfect, golden glowing ball of heat growing inside me and she was stroking it and playing with it like it was her own. She owned that spot, she owned me, and she wasn't going to let that ball break open until she was ready.
I begged for her, hour after hour. I cried for her, wept tears of pleading and passion. I could feel her love for me with every stoke, every kiss, every moment she delayed me. I was dying in her arms, but there was life; every part of me was awake and dancing and screaming for more of her.
Fill me, fill me again. Give me more and more. I begged her. There was her, and more of her, and at last everything. Her hands, her mouth, her body were inside me, completely.
I could feel the moment she released me. I could hear it in her voice. "You belong to me now." I couldn't dispute it as I rode wave after wave of pleasure and passion for her. I gave in to her, every second of it, and when at last, finally, there was no more of me to give her; she fell back and a wept.
As I cried for her, soft gentle tears, she stroked me, petted me and told me of my perfection. Her tongue was soft, gentle as she licked the dampness of my neck and stomach. She drank me in, tasted all of my pleasure. She dipped her head between my legs, and there I found how truly hers I was.
Gently, softly, slowly, patiently, she moved her mouth over me and brought me again. This time with love, this time with all the softness that her strength could afford her. As I shivered and shuddered under her velvet kiss, I felt myself move beyond my body and into the gleam of her perfect gaze.
Finished, wasted, completely her own, she let me hold onto her. She was my breath. She was my heartbeat. She was my pleasure.
Last night, she was my muse.
Serioudly. this is not for a child's eyes.
Have a naughty night friends. I know I will.
AGxx
***********
Her eyes were perfect. The shimmered in the dark like two candles lighting me down a darkened hallway to the bed I found myself laying on. They were deep and full of promises. They were all promises I'd hope she kept.
Her lips were heaven. They were soft and warm and wet. I sighed as she stroked them over mind, quickly, teasing me, making me want more. The press of them grew harder, rougher, and I could feel her breath hot against my mouth, filling it with the heat of her desire. Her tongue was candy as it slipped inside me, stroking me everywhere and tempting me to more wicked things.
I slid her fingers inside my mouth, they were salt and warm and tasted like me and her together. Licking at them, sucking them, I felt more wanton than I ever had before. Our exchange perfect, mouths close fingers moving in and out of eachothers mouths. I couldn't stop it, I didn't want to.
She streaked the wetness from my mouth and hers down my cheeks and twined our hands together as she pulled me below her. She never let go, not for a moment, as she spilled her body over mine. She pressed hard into me, as I lay there, helpless beneath her, wanting her to take me, top me, in a way I had never felt before.
I knew, in that moment, my surrender was imminent.
She stripped me bare. There is no other way to put it. I lay bemeath her as she pulled me free of everything that kept me from her. I shivered; from the cold air against my body, from the look in her eyes and the power she had over me. I wanted to give it up.
Her hands were gentle, infinately gentle as she stroked my face, looking down at me like I was a work of art, a picture she wanted to preserve in her mind for all her life. She moved down, my neck and my collarbone receiving similar attentions, as though she were memorizing every part of me, as though she never wanted to forget. I hoped she wouldn't.
I hoped she wouldn't forget, but recall it again and again as she stroked my breasts and teased me to the point of begging and whimpering. "Please, please, please," it was all I could say, a single, echoing refrain in my head that spilled past my lips before I could stop it.
Her legs were strong, so strong as she held me down with them, lowering herself so she could lick and kiss the places she was touching. My mind loosed, and all I saw was a swirl of color and emotion behind my eyes as they fluttered open and shut. Her hair was soft as I tangled my hands in it, drawing her yet closer to me again.
But it was her skin, the warm sensual heat of her body that finally sent me to the edge. Her breasts against mine, her stomach hot and firm against me, it was all of my yearnings in a single movement, as she slid over and down me. There was nothing in that moment, nothing but the strength of her arms and the touch of her body all over me, as I began my refrain again.
Please. Please. Please.
If there was a moment to beg, this one seemed perfect. If there was a moment to lose it all, this was it. I couldn't wait, not a second longer, for her to take me.
My hands slid over her body, down her back- screatching as I went. I grabbed her and pulled her firmly against me. Her wet, perfect heat was almost more than I could bear. The feeling of her push and release was all I could have wanted, all I hoped for, and yet so far from the release I was wanting.
Her hands, finally, finally, moved into me, and I knew completion at last. She and I, joined together, that was perfection. That was true pleasure. Her golden, husky voice whispering in my ear of my beauty, her need for me, and how I felt- it was everything. I echoed her, I called back to her, as she moved. Her hips and hands and breasts never stopped, her mouth at once on my neck, my mouth, my shoulders and my ears.
Please. Please. Please.
There was a moment I felt it. There was a perfect, golden glowing ball of heat growing inside me and she was stroking it and playing with it like it was her own. She owned that spot, she owned me, and she wasn't going to let that ball break open until she was ready.
I begged for her, hour after hour. I cried for her, wept tears of pleading and passion. I could feel her love for me with every stoke, every kiss, every moment she delayed me. I was dying in her arms, but there was life; every part of me was awake and dancing and screaming for more of her.
Fill me, fill me again. Give me more and more. I begged her. There was her, and more of her, and at last everything. Her hands, her mouth, her body were inside me, completely.
I could feel the moment she released me. I could hear it in her voice. "You belong to me now." I couldn't dispute it as I rode wave after wave of pleasure and passion for her. I gave in to her, every second of it, and when at last, finally, there was no more of me to give her; she fell back and a wept.
As I cried for her, soft gentle tears, she stroked me, petted me and told me of my perfection. Her tongue was soft, gentle as she licked the dampness of my neck and stomach. She drank me in, tasted all of my pleasure. She dipped her head between my legs, and there I found how truly hers I was.
Gently, softly, slowly, patiently, she moved her mouth over me and brought me again. This time with love, this time with all the softness that her strength could afford her. As I shivered and shuddered under her velvet kiss, I felt myself move beyond my body and into the gleam of her perfect gaze.
Finished, wasted, completely her own, she let me hold onto her. She was my breath. She was my heartbeat. She was my pleasure.
Last night, she was my muse.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Feeling the Evening
On the menu tonight: Emo Crap. Skip it is you don't like it. But, as far as emo crap goes, its not too bad. For me.
*************************************************************************************
If you asked me what I saw tonight, I would tell I saw the clouds. Skitering tight against the sky and rolling over the moon so that it seems like Halloween in fast forward. Soft, grey and edged in ebony. If I took a fistful of obsidian and threw it hard across the grass, that would be the clouds this evening.
I'd tell you I saw the stars. Stars are so romantic. Right? That shimmering softness in the black of night is a guide. Somwhere up there is the people you love, the people you miss, and they watch over you and you can feel safe because they are there, shining on you. I don't see that in the stars. Tonight I see them laughing at me, the twinkle is the shine in the eyes that hide a smile beneath a serene gaze and fingers lightly tripping over the mouth. I can hear the soft sigh as those fingers move, the secret laughter of the earth in the wind this evening.
Its not the stars so much, its the spaces between them, another romantic notion that there's more out there, more to be had, more that can be sought. How sad- to think that the brightness of the stars, those loved ones looking down, is just the reflection of the greater blackness around them and me and you. How terrifying to think that between all those spaces are not only the hopes and wishes of everyone, the things we strive for and the all of the untamed and wild possibilites of life; but also the things we will never achieve. It seems to me tonight that the sky is the backdrop, the canvass of all my future failures and lost dreams.
Tonight I see nothing, nothing I want to see, nothing I can hope for. Tonight I see the blackness and bleakness of life. It doesn't depress me, it doesn't bother me. In a way, its comforting to think I am not alone in the constant toil and failure that is life. Keep moving, keep moving and I will share it all with you and we will be alone together in the dark looking at the laughing stars and thinking that there's more.
Ask me what I hear. Ask and I'd tell you I hear the sound of trains moving in the distance. Its lonely and comforting and beautiful all at once. Its work- work to be had, work completed and time that will never be gotten back, however long we moan.
I hear the sound of water moving, though I couldn't tell you where or why. I can hear the babble of water over cobble, dripping off my roof and sliding down over the windowpanes through the cracks in the ceiling and dripping into the floor. Its a soft sound, almost noiseless, the fall of water into carpet. I like it, the falling, the tripping, stumbling, freewheeling feeling before you're silently absorbed into nothingness. I can her the water playing and it makes me wish I was playful tonight, that I could rollick and laugh and be silly for no reason at all. I wish I was clever like that water; moving, changing, never seeming to mind where it goes, so long as it does, so long as it moves on. I love the water tonight.
I love its sound and I love its feel. I want to slide deep into it and lose myself in its heat. I want to pull myself in over head and fill my ears and my eyes and my mouth before breathing deeply, spitting it out and laughing at the feeling of it pouring down my shoulders. I want to feel it all over me, on my legs and my hips and running down my back, tickling and teasing me and reminding me to keep moving. I want to hear the splash and know that I can scatter it too. I can move and push and change the things that move and the things that won't stop. Somehow, there it is, I can feel it and touch it and change it and somehow its the same all over again.
I couldn't tell you if it was raining, I couldn't tell you if there were water running nearby. But tonight I hear it like the roar of the ocean in my head. The waves lapping at my feet and teasing and tempting me to move onward with it. It sounds so good.
Tonight I smell things too, of course. I can smell chocolate, faintly, ever so slightly and it makes my mouth water. I can taste it on my lips and I wonder where its come from too. Tonight I can taste nicotine on my breath and it makes me think of countless nights and countless kisses and tears and screams that I was never really able to let go of until I smoked. I think of the soft tap tap of the pack and I can taste the filter and the paper in my mouth, like I've never lit the ciigarette, but it doesn't matter, because it burns for me whther I light it or not. That makes no sense, does it? It makes no sense to have the fire there, when it was never lit, but so it is. It burns and smolders and fills me up.
I taste mint tonight, I feel it in my teeth and on my tongue and on the outsides of my lips every times I lick them, I can taste it as I breathe, deep inside, and it teases me with its scent even though there's no mint here, no oil, no candy or anything sweet. No, tonight it just me and the water and the stars, but the smell of mint lingers like I am laying in it and it has been all over and inside of me. Somehow I am made of mint tonight.
Thre's something else to scent. It isn't the thing I want but its there and it echoes and teases me and I can't stand it because its not...its not anything. Its like earth and rain and dampness and sweat and the smell of leather all together at once. It smells like the center of a seraglio with inscence burning and women dancing and there's life and light and painful lust and I can smell it. I can smell the scent, like fresh turned earth, like grass freshly mown and it drives me crazy. Its the smell of shampoo and rubber and plastic and salt. Its sweet, so sweet and its not sweet at all. It stings my mouth as I taste it and it burns as the scent moves up into my mind. I somehow think it is the mosnt inescapable scent of all. I can't stand it, but it is always there.
But to feel, isn't that where this must go? What do I feel? What can I feel? The immediate is superceded by all the things that overwhelm when I close my eyes and let go and try to simply feel. I feel wet and cold and hot all at once. I feel tiny blades of grass all over my legs and in between my toes. I feel the breeze moving its teasing laugh over my chest and into my hair and tossing it and tangling it until thtere is nothing for me to do but throw my head back and laugh at it . I feel the touch of love, the touch of pain, the touch of everything, like laying in a feild full of blooming flowers and there being nothing but nettle when I stand. It feels like pavement beneath my feet; sticky oils competeing with the softness of the grass, trying to heat me, warn me, drive me to somewhere new and different.
But to feel? What do I feel? What can I feel? I want to say nothing, nothing at all. I want to say there is an empty, echoing, hollow part of me that feels nothing but that's a lie. I feel everything, all at once, and that seems wrose sometimes. I feel like there is fullness to the point of pain, aching to the point of terror, and love to the point of weeping. There is so much, there is everything. There is me and you and everyone in the world and it feels tonight like all of them are crying and I can feel it all over me. Somehow though, I can feel it too, the hysterical laughter. I'm alright, I'm alright, its says. I'm not afraid, I'm not anything. But to feel it, to feel it all..
Tonight, to me, its perfection.
*************************************************************************************
If you asked me what I saw tonight, I would tell I saw the clouds. Skitering tight against the sky and rolling over the moon so that it seems like Halloween in fast forward. Soft, grey and edged in ebony. If I took a fistful of obsidian and threw it hard across the grass, that would be the clouds this evening.
I'd tell you I saw the stars. Stars are so romantic. Right? That shimmering softness in the black of night is a guide. Somwhere up there is the people you love, the people you miss, and they watch over you and you can feel safe because they are there, shining on you. I don't see that in the stars. Tonight I see them laughing at me, the twinkle is the shine in the eyes that hide a smile beneath a serene gaze and fingers lightly tripping over the mouth. I can hear the soft sigh as those fingers move, the secret laughter of the earth in the wind this evening.
Its not the stars so much, its the spaces between them, another romantic notion that there's more out there, more to be had, more that can be sought. How sad- to think that the brightness of the stars, those loved ones looking down, is just the reflection of the greater blackness around them and me and you. How terrifying to think that between all those spaces are not only the hopes and wishes of everyone, the things we strive for and the all of the untamed and wild possibilites of life; but also the things we will never achieve. It seems to me tonight that the sky is the backdrop, the canvass of all my future failures and lost dreams.
Tonight I see nothing, nothing I want to see, nothing I can hope for. Tonight I see the blackness and bleakness of life. It doesn't depress me, it doesn't bother me. In a way, its comforting to think I am not alone in the constant toil and failure that is life. Keep moving, keep moving and I will share it all with you and we will be alone together in the dark looking at the laughing stars and thinking that there's more.
Ask me what I hear. Ask and I'd tell you I hear the sound of trains moving in the distance. Its lonely and comforting and beautiful all at once. Its work- work to be had, work completed and time that will never be gotten back, however long we moan.
I hear the sound of water moving, though I couldn't tell you where or why. I can hear the babble of water over cobble, dripping off my roof and sliding down over the windowpanes through the cracks in the ceiling and dripping into the floor. Its a soft sound, almost noiseless, the fall of water into carpet. I like it, the falling, the tripping, stumbling, freewheeling feeling before you're silently absorbed into nothingness. I can her the water playing and it makes me wish I was playful tonight, that I could rollick and laugh and be silly for no reason at all. I wish I was clever like that water; moving, changing, never seeming to mind where it goes, so long as it does, so long as it moves on. I love the water tonight.
I love its sound and I love its feel. I want to slide deep into it and lose myself in its heat. I want to pull myself in over head and fill my ears and my eyes and my mouth before breathing deeply, spitting it out and laughing at the feeling of it pouring down my shoulders. I want to feel it all over me, on my legs and my hips and running down my back, tickling and teasing me and reminding me to keep moving. I want to hear the splash and know that I can scatter it too. I can move and push and change the things that move and the things that won't stop. Somehow, there it is, I can feel it and touch it and change it and somehow its the same all over again.
I couldn't tell you if it was raining, I couldn't tell you if there were water running nearby. But tonight I hear it like the roar of the ocean in my head. The waves lapping at my feet and teasing and tempting me to move onward with it. It sounds so good.
Tonight I smell things too, of course. I can smell chocolate, faintly, ever so slightly and it makes my mouth water. I can taste it on my lips and I wonder where its come from too. Tonight I can taste nicotine on my breath and it makes me think of countless nights and countless kisses and tears and screams that I was never really able to let go of until I smoked. I think of the soft tap tap of the pack and I can taste the filter and the paper in my mouth, like I've never lit the ciigarette, but it doesn't matter, because it burns for me whther I light it or not. That makes no sense, does it? It makes no sense to have the fire there, when it was never lit, but so it is. It burns and smolders and fills me up.
I taste mint tonight, I feel it in my teeth and on my tongue and on the outsides of my lips every times I lick them, I can taste it as I breathe, deep inside, and it teases me with its scent even though there's no mint here, no oil, no candy or anything sweet. No, tonight it just me and the water and the stars, but the smell of mint lingers like I am laying in it and it has been all over and inside of me. Somehow I am made of mint tonight.
Thre's something else to scent. It isn't the thing I want but its there and it echoes and teases me and I can't stand it because its not...its not anything. Its like earth and rain and dampness and sweat and the smell of leather all together at once. It smells like the center of a seraglio with inscence burning and women dancing and there's life and light and painful lust and I can smell it. I can smell the scent, like fresh turned earth, like grass freshly mown and it drives me crazy. Its the smell of shampoo and rubber and plastic and salt. Its sweet, so sweet and its not sweet at all. It stings my mouth as I taste it and it burns as the scent moves up into my mind. I somehow think it is the mosnt inescapable scent of all. I can't stand it, but it is always there.
But to feel, isn't that where this must go? What do I feel? What can I feel? The immediate is superceded by all the things that overwhelm when I close my eyes and let go and try to simply feel. I feel wet and cold and hot all at once. I feel tiny blades of grass all over my legs and in between my toes. I feel the breeze moving its teasing laugh over my chest and into my hair and tossing it and tangling it until thtere is nothing for me to do but throw my head back and laugh at it . I feel the touch of love, the touch of pain, the touch of everything, like laying in a feild full of blooming flowers and there being nothing but nettle when I stand. It feels like pavement beneath my feet; sticky oils competeing with the softness of the grass, trying to heat me, warn me, drive me to somewhere new and different.
But to feel? What do I feel? What can I feel? I want to say nothing, nothing at all. I want to say there is an empty, echoing, hollow part of me that feels nothing but that's a lie. I feel everything, all at once, and that seems wrose sometimes. I feel like there is fullness to the point of pain, aching to the point of terror, and love to the point of weeping. There is so much, there is everything. There is me and you and everyone in the world and it feels tonight like all of them are crying and I can feel it all over me. Somehow though, I can feel it too, the hysterical laughter. I'm alright, I'm alright, its says. I'm not afraid, I'm not anything. But to feel it, to feel it all..
Tonight, to me, its perfection.
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Wind Screams With Me
So I was planning on a happy or funny post today before last night happened.
If you've read the news, or live anywhere near me, you know that my area of the country was struck with absolutely terrible weather last night. A city not too far rom mine was nearly leveled last night. It was terrible. In the midwest, in the springtime, its not unusual to get severe weather. It is, however, strange to get such severe weather that one storm can flatten an entire town. I mean, this wasn't a tiny town. It had like, 50,000 people in it. That's a big storm.
Of course, by the time the storm hit that city, there were warnings coming fast towards the city Ilived in. The counties all around us were getting tornado warnings. We were expecting ours at any time.
Now, I used to never have a problem with tornados. I really didn't. Mom's second husband, 2.0, was a weather spotter. I grew up listening to storm scanners and hearing stories about tornados. Punk was always afraid of them, but when the scary stuff started when I was a little girl, I was at the picture window in my front room looking out at the sky. When I was a teenager I went out with my friends and drove outside the city to watch the scary stuff from far away. It was stupid, but then, who isn't stupid when they're a teenager? I will say this, we did see a tornado a little too close for comfort about the time I turned 18 and it spooked me enough I didn't go looking for them again.
As an adult, I really don't like them. Its not the tornado itself. I'm relatively secure in my karma, and I figure if its my time to go, then it is, right? But what does frighten me is that I have people I love now, people I don't want to leave, people I wouldn't be able to bear the loss of. I have a home and secure employment and a vehicle that runs well. I have a start on a decent amount of savings. In one night, hell- in less than an hour, people who live just a city or two away from me lost all of those things. I grieve for them because they are facing what I fear the most.
Here's the rub: Kitten is terrified of storms. I mean blind panic terrified. I'm not sure how Oscelot feels about it, honestly. She looked scared and sick, but then, she's been sick for three days now. What I do know is that once we started getting reports ffrom the nearby cities about the damage and how bad the storm was, the girls didn't want to stay home. We don't have a basement, there aren't really any interior type rooms. Our house is a hundred years old, it isn't laid out with hallways. That's not how things worked back then.
So the quest for somewhere safe to go began, and the packing of necessities, and the great wrangling of the cats. Honestly, I wanted to be at home, but sometimes you make sacrifices for the people you love, so they feel better. This was one of those times. So Kitten, Oscelot, our five cats and myself piled into our Frontier, and off we went. Kitten originally wanted to go to her Dad's house. He was at church. Then she wanted to go to Precious, her best friend, because she had a storm cellar. She had told us we could come by. When we got there Kitten took one look at her house, surrounded by old trees and power lines and said hell no, and so off we went, back across town again, to Kitten's mom.
During this time, over the terrified wailing of the cats, Kitten and Oscelot were on their phones calling people and texting them. There was a monsoon going on outside and Kitten was texting, calling and driving. She hates that. Tells you how scared she was. I called Sakura to make sure he was safe, because he was on the road home from out state capital, and I called Black Magic, although I don't think she appreciated it, (that's a story for another day) and then I called my grandmother. Once I had ascertained they were all as safe as they were going to be I sat and watched out the window and texted The Lifeguard.
She had stopped back by the house after coming back from a roller derby bout in Oklahoma City. Thank god, she dodged their bad weather, our bad weather, and in the end only got stopped shortly outside of St. Louis, so I was greatful at least for that. Now, as much as I am not an advocate of texting and driving, last night I was greatful The Lifeguard did for me. I told her she could just let me vent, and ignore it, but I needed someone I could vent to and it couldn't be someone stuck in the storm with me.
I don't like admitting I am frightened. I sure as hell won't do it when my partners are frightened too. Its my job to take care of them and be strong for them, so when stuff like this happens I try to go to my happy place and be tough for them and fall apart later. It wasn't the storm that scared me, honestly, we were headed somewhere safe and that was fine. Part of it was the panic I saw in my girls' faces. Part of it was that I don't want to loose my house and my livelihood. Part of it was I don't want to loose my friends and family. I got to thinking about the few things I would regret if anything did happen, and that scared me too.
The Lifeguard saved me last night. I can usually hold it together. But there was soemthing about the non-stop lightining, being stuck in monsoon force rain in a truck with two frightened women and 5 howling cats that broke me. I was really, really greatful for her last night.
In the end I spent most of the evening in Kitten's mom's living room floor teasing my cat Evelyn, talking to Mom and Kitten and Oscelot and texting The Lifeguard. I even got a shot of a beautiful rainbow just as the storm ended. I saved iot as the background on my phone. (to my local readers, no it wasnt the double rainbow that everyone seemed to be posting about on fb either) I am okay, for the most part, as long as I can watch the weather coverage on the news (we go to round the clock coverage in circumstances like this) and have someone to chat to, it turns out.
I woke up this morning feeling very greatful. I am happy to have good friends, a good family, my home and my job. I thought about it, and you know, I think I'm a pretty happy woman. Today I want to make it a point to tell people thatI care about them that I do. I can't always count on dodging the bullett.
Iw ill say this, I am happy to think of moving to the west coast, where this hardly ever happens. Seriously. Until then, I'll just have to be thankful for the few coping mechanisms I have, and hope my luck doesn't run out.
Stay Safe, Y'all.
I Love You.
AGxx
I might note that the tornado was helead story on NPR this morning. If you want to read actual news about it, you can find it here. Also, relief effort will be ongoing. Get involved if you can.
If you've read the news, or live anywhere near me, you know that my area of the country was struck with absolutely terrible weather last night. A city not too far rom mine was nearly leveled last night. It was terrible. In the midwest, in the springtime, its not unusual to get severe weather. It is, however, strange to get such severe weather that one storm can flatten an entire town. I mean, this wasn't a tiny town. It had like, 50,000 people in it. That's a big storm.
Of course, by the time the storm hit that city, there were warnings coming fast towards the city Ilived in. The counties all around us were getting tornado warnings. We were expecting ours at any time.
Now, I used to never have a problem with tornados. I really didn't. Mom's second husband, 2.0, was a weather spotter. I grew up listening to storm scanners and hearing stories about tornados. Punk was always afraid of them, but when the scary stuff started when I was a little girl, I was at the picture window in my front room looking out at the sky. When I was a teenager I went out with my friends and drove outside the city to watch the scary stuff from far away. It was stupid, but then, who isn't stupid when they're a teenager? I will say this, we did see a tornado a little too close for comfort about the time I turned 18 and it spooked me enough I didn't go looking for them again.
As an adult, I really don't like them. Its not the tornado itself. I'm relatively secure in my karma, and I figure if its my time to go, then it is, right? But what does frighten me is that I have people I love now, people I don't want to leave, people I wouldn't be able to bear the loss of. I have a home and secure employment and a vehicle that runs well. I have a start on a decent amount of savings. In one night, hell- in less than an hour, people who live just a city or two away from me lost all of those things. I grieve for them because they are facing what I fear the most.
Here's the rub: Kitten is terrified of storms. I mean blind panic terrified. I'm not sure how Oscelot feels about it, honestly. She looked scared and sick, but then, she's been sick for three days now. What I do know is that once we started getting reports ffrom the nearby cities about the damage and how bad the storm was, the girls didn't want to stay home. We don't have a basement, there aren't really any interior type rooms. Our house is a hundred years old, it isn't laid out with hallways. That's not how things worked back then.
So the quest for somewhere safe to go began, and the packing of necessities, and the great wrangling of the cats. Honestly, I wanted to be at home, but sometimes you make sacrifices for the people you love, so they feel better. This was one of those times. So Kitten, Oscelot, our five cats and myself piled into our Frontier, and off we went. Kitten originally wanted to go to her Dad's house. He was at church. Then she wanted to go to Precious, her best friend, because she had a storm cellar. She had told us we could come by. When we got there Kitten took one look at her house, surrounded by old trees and power lines and said hell no, and so off we went, back across town again, to Kitten's mom.
During this time, over the terrified wailing of the cats, Kitten and Oscelot were on their phones calling people and texting them. There was a monsoon going on outside and Kitten was texting, calling and driving. She hates that. Tells you how scared she was. I called Sakura to make sure he was safe, because he was on the road home from out state capital, and I called Black Magic, although I don't think she appreciated it, (that's a story for another day) and then I called my grandmother. Once I had ascertained they were all as safe as they were going to be I sat and watched out the window and texted The Lifeguard.
She had stopped back by the house after coming back from a roller derby bout in Oklahoma City. Thank god, she dodged their bad weather, our bad weather, and in the end only got stopped shortly outside of St. Louis, so I was greatful at least for that. Now, as much as I am not an advocate of texting and driving, last night I was greatful The Lifeguard did for me. I told her she could just let me vent, and ignore it, but I needed someone I could vent to and it couldn't be someone stuck in the storm with me.
I don't like admitting I am frightened. I sure as hell won't do it when my partners are frightened too. Its my job to take care of them and be strong for them, so when stuff like this happens I try to go to my happy place and be tough for them and fall apart later. It wasn't the storm that scared me, honestly, we were headed somewhere safe and that was fine. Part of it was the panic I saw in my girls' faces. Part of it was that I don't want to loose my house and my livelihood. Part of it was I don't want to loose my friends and family. I got to thinking about the few things I would regret if anything did happen, and that scared me too.
The Lifeguard saved me last night. I can usually hold it together. But there was soemthing about the non-stop lightining, being stuck in monsoon force rain in a truck with two frightened women and 5 howling cats that broke me. I was really, really greatful for her last night.
In the end I spent most of the evening in Kitten's mom's living room floor teasing my cat Evelyn, talking to Mom and Kitten and Oscelot and texting The Lifeguard. I even got a shot of a beautiful rainbow just as the storm ended. I saved iot as the background on my phone. (to my local readers, no it wasnt the double rainbow that everyone seemed to be posting about on fb either) I am okay, for the most part, as long as I can watch the weather coverage on the news (we go to round the clock coverage in circumstances like this) and have someone to chat to, it turns out.
I woke up this morning feeling very greatful. I am happy to have good friends, a good family, my home and my job. I thought about it, and you know, I think I'm a pretty happy woman. Today I want to make it a point to tell people thatI care about them that I do. I can't always count on dodging the bullett.
Iw ill say this, I am happy to think of moving to the west coast, where this hardly ever happens. Seriously. Until then, I'll just have to be thankful for the few coping mechanisms I have, and hope my luck doesn't run out.
Stay Safe, Y'all.
I Love You.
AGxx
I might note that the tornado was helead story on NPR this morning. If you want to read actual news about it, you can find it here. Also, relief effort will be ongoing. Get involved if you can.
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