Just words

Sitting in the dark,
Listening to the rain.
Each drop that falls,
Reminds me of the pain.
Do I play the fool,
Fall for her lies and Love all over again?
Where are the actions,
Where is the proof
That her words are real
And this is not just her game once again aloof.

Celebrity

Has anyone ever dated a celebrity?  It can be pretty harrowing.  Especially if the relationship is discreet.  I really don’t know how relationships survive for major celebrities.  Anywhere one goes, the papparazzi is there.  Bad enough with a “B” list level celebrity.  Sneaking around, meeting at out of the way places.  Pretending you don’t know each other in public places. 

Reckon by making a game out of it, it can help.  Laughing about the close calls, the aliases, the disguises.  It makes those time when you do get a few private moments together more exhilirating and meaningful.

Sitting in office alone on a Sunday

Drinking a beer and getting work done caught up for the week.  Just wondering so where in the larger scheme of things do events and people lie within relationships to each other.   Some major shit hit me last week.  Very major.  Let’s just say it involves police, federal officials, etc.  No, I’m not the one doing bad…but I am caught up in it.  On the other hand, I have friends and clients who have come to me and stated that they intend to stick by me.  I gave them an out (well, the clients anyhow.  Told them I would find someone else to represent them till this blew over).  My best client said “Fuck that.  You aren’t getting rid of me that easy.”  and then bought me a beer.  Considering I have built my business on integrity and reputation, it was a really good feeling to know that others see that in me.

On the other hand, it does suck not really being able to just sit down with someone and talk about these things.  To tell someone that this shit scared the hell out of me…and still does.  That this is going to go on for a while.  Someone who isn’t a business partner.  someone that I can trust…and won’t judge.  Just someone to listen.  Guess that’s why I have this blog.  I vent to everyone…and noone.

Lies?

Well, “she” called me this morning.  No “happy birthday” or “how have you been?”…just led right in calling me a liar.  She finally read my blogs!  Imagine that.  And got pissed.  For those of you have been following my blogs, you know her getting pissed is no suprise. lol.  Anyhow, she apparently left comments on a few of them.  To protect her privacy, I am going to remove them as her picture is on them and I wouldn’t want anyone stumbling over here and recognizing her.  I really do not wish her ill. 

So, in leaving the comments, I have to approve them.  That’s when I noticed the email from which they were posted.  Hmmm…the very email she SWORE many times she had deleted.  Deleted because of all of those guys she had been with passing her love letters…and her passing a few back.  So I texted her to call her out on it…basically “you still have the ****** acct?  to which she replied “yes”.  This from a woman who even now claims she never lied to me.  It’s all kinda amusing how lies come back, isn’t it?  At least I can laugh about it!

Can there be such etheral advantage in stoicism?  Amazing how I waver on this issue.  I wonder at the transformation.  Stuck between forelorn hope…and complete restraint, like some metamorphis fighting itself.  Which do I chose?  Which do I become?  For now, i am both but I like niether.  However, I must allow myself to move foward.  If nothing else, tis time to get laid!

well dang.

yanno, i just opened negotiations on two deals that could make me a national, perhaps even an international player.  sigh.  wish I had someone with whom I could talk about it.  *shrug*

Let It Out

I do not now begin,–I still adore
Her whom I early cherish’d in my breast;
Then once again with prudence dispossess’d,
And to whose heart I’m driven back once more.
The love of Petrarch, that all-glorious love,
Was unrequited, and, alas, full sad…
~~~Johann von Goethe,

Sitting here after hearing from “her” again today.  She started with a simple funny message.  Then immediately jumped to ask how I’m doing woman hunting.  This disturbed me for several reasons. 

The first is that if she doesn’t want me, what does she care about me seeing others?  Other than she likes to keep men hanging on to her.   Which I can believe.   She used to talk all the time about how her past loves would randomly text her talking about how much they want her back.  And they would send her lewd raunchy messages talking about what they have done in the past, even after, supposedly, she asked them to stop.

The second is that I haven’t been looking for another.  For some unfathomable reason, I haven’t been able to move on yet.  Oh, there has been opportunity.  And an attractive woman with whom I work even suprised me with a deep kiss one evening.  But, alas, there is that part of me that feels that she and I aren’t finished.  Which really really pisses me off.  She treated me like shit.  She cared nothing for what was going on in my life or what was important to me.  Or if she did, she never showed it.  She constantly had guys all around her…guys with whom she would discuss her sexual ventures, thus leaving a door open for advances.  And she had the audacity to get pissed at me for having a drink with an associate, with whom I never discussed anything intimate.  And she couldn’t talk about anything without raging at me.  Never communicated.  And difinitely never cared for how I felt. 

But, here I sit and wonder what she is thinking.  Who she is seeing.  Who is next in line for her.  Has she fucked her best friend yet?  (note:  if you are reading this friend, and she hasn’t yet, it will happen.  don’t fret.).  

So, I’m trying to decide…do I get involved with someone on a level where I make love, cook dinner, rub her back and feet, and write poems for her?   Or do I just go out and fuck someone?  Hard.  For hours.  or, do i hold out hope that perhaps she hasn’t been with anyone else and doesn’t have anyone lined up and that, maybe, just maybe, she will call me and talk to me and tell me she wants US. 

If she does call, what do I do?  She still hasn’t read any of my blogs, though she knows they exist.  She reads her “best friend’s” but not my most intimate feelings.  maybe what I need is a closing fuck.  yeah…that’s it.

The Suana

Sitting across from each other in a hot sauna, our towels draped about our bodies, we melt. Steam seeps into our very pores. Her eyes half closed as she licks little beads of sweat from her lips. Her arms rise, pulling back her hair, chin lifting, exposing her succulent neck. I watching a bead of moisture roll down her jaw, dribbling over her neck, pooling into the nape. Her bare shoulders accentuating the rise and fall of her buxom.

Through the mists, I watch as legs opened, ever so slightly. An invitation? or merely a languid lapse due to the heat? So smooth, so desirable, her indiscretion giving having me reposition my towel. One hand holding her hair up, the other now slowly, sensually drifts its way down her face, over her nape, fingers stopping only at the swell of her breasts, her lips open in a silent release. As another bursts of steam erupts, her eyes suddenly open and lock with mine. She smiles….

Fingertips dancing upon her mounds, an indiscreet release of the towel, falling open to reveal such splendor. Head tossed back, eyes closing, she cups her breasts, raising them gently, squeezing them in her palms. Forefinger and thumb coming around to roll her nipples, as if brushing away the sweat from their tips.

Sweat glistening on her body, shear lust in her exhalations, her head lays back against the smooth wood of the sauna. Her eyes part…revealing a desire evident in her actions and in her soul. Holding my gaze, she writhes her sensual form, shedding open the last vestige of modesty as the towel falls completely away from her body, a forgotten obstacle to her fulfillment.

That Moment *erotica*

The peak of extasy where you want to cum but don’t want the surmounting intensity of pleasure to cease. The summit of eroticism and rapture. Hips locked in thrust, eyes rolled back in your head, lower lip held firmly within your teeth, breath shallow, fast, furious, sweat soaking the sheets, muscles stiff from sensation and tensed in perplexity of experience, wails whimpered, begging for release because not physically or mentally able to enjoy more. Mind so overcome with sensation and pleasure that the simplest words are sought for coherence. “Please don’t stop!” followed by “Please let me cum” and “Please, Please….” panted through passion and fueled by desire.

I Wish…

I wish…

---

That i would have talked again last.
To hear the words of truth
and the ring of mirth
emoting from her.

To feel the sizzling coolness of the rain
as it dries upon my skin
Coolness fiery
to my senses.

…to hear her laughter…and her moans of passion in my ear.

<hopefully, not at the same time!>

…I wish to feel the air stir my hair in the early morning as the sun rises and gives strength to the day.

…I wish to hear words spoken aloud and to dance in an open bungalow on a moonlit beach, swaying to the serande of the surf whilst the breeze tousles her hair.

…that i could have more time.

…that I could watch her dance in the rain
…and see the mirth in her eyes as she smiles

…to feel the warmth of her body close to mine as the wind orchestrates the comming dance of autumn leaves.

…to be called “hers” and know she longs to be called mine.