Friday, September 24, 2010

*he screamed: damnettt! molest me!!!*

steam building up inside the bathroom.
my hair drenched in honey scented product...

my skin supple and soft.
my body reacting to the temperature...

i stepped out in my white jockey briefs.
my white hoodie open, exposing my body...

i sat down beside him, breathing heavily.
i reached for his face and asked softly...

"are you okay?"
quiet as he could be, grabbed me suddenly...

i move away abruptly and smile.
"hush hush, you cant have me yet"

he looked mad as a lunatic.
his red lips wet like damp cotton...

i played a tune and sat slowly.
"strip for me cowboy"

he was wearing jeans and a tight black racerback.
he was taking off his clothes too fast...

i ask nicely, "dance while stripping".
he did for my pleasure...

slowly pulling down his pants.
revealing his black calvin briefs...

hot as he could be,
he took his top off...

exposing his chiseled chest,
those rock hard abs...

he took the music in,
grinded his hips with the beat...

i loved every minute of it...

his sweat dripping slowly,
his face looking horribly impatient...

i remain in my seat,
unmoved and staring...

i knew he was hot,
i knew he was in heat...

i lie down the bed,
asked him to amuse me...

he took off his briefs as slowly as possible,
he touched himself in front of me...

his glorious manhood hard as metal,
he jerked it off as slow as he would grind...

he screamed... "damnettt!!! molest me!!!"
i smiled and turned away...

he screamed again...
"please, touch me already"

i took off my hoodie so he could see my back...
stood up slowly...

pulled my briefs down...

i bent over by the table...
exposing all of my behind...

turned my head around...
"baby, you can have me now"
"im your slut for the evening"

and he did for my pleasure...

everything a man could imagine possible.

toodles bitches...

P

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

*LOVE : i still dont get it*

amidst the daily drama of single blessedness, the gods are indeed lashing their lighting at my beauty. i have always been a fan of love. love stories, romance under the stars, intimacy at closed doors and everything that comes between and in between.

including the lucid adventures of drama and heaps of baggage from god knows emotionally where.

i come across a stand point where i cant figure if love or well, relationships actually work. is love considered salvation or an eternity of suffering to those who actually think they have it?

first off, defining love is harder than most people know. the damned coincidence that brains don't normally function where the heart is should already be a clue that defining emotions into categorized levels of word is not likely an appropriate way to do it. but seriously, how do we actually define love?

well, while most of us say whatever outrageous things they could about love like its an item you but from a store, i still basically think that its a imaginary figment of some lousy cartoon character to create a buzz out of its boredom. i basically think its surreal.

the initial thought would be wonderful, magical, and then further notions seep in. it's surreal. (mind you, even if i define it as something out of this world and seemingly unreal, i still believe its out there / neurotic ways of expounding these emotions equate to LOVE for me)

do relationships still work? does an actual faithful relationship still exist in this time and age? well, i just got home from a date with a really nice guy. he's taken. his boyfriend is out of the country. and while the boyfriend is away, im the temporary cumhole. does it work? i guess, it works for me. i dont have to go through the drama and hassle of reporting my daily routine to someone, i dont have to keep on thinking about a certain someone's day, if his ego is bruised at work or his manhood is slightly smaller cause some guy at the gym told him he's thin and all the crap that we get from a relationship. i have all the good things i want with a guy hence the dirty area. the sex is good, the conversations are great. so what else should i look for? so basically, it works for me.

now, the question is, does it work for him too? i mean, we go out, we fuck. what else does he get from it? just the sex and company? does it work for him the way it is for me? what about the emotional babbles from his boyfriend?

well, these are just random thoughts from a guy like me. a guy who has never been in an actual relationship. like seriously, the only relationships i have are the ones with hermes, balenciaga and ysl. other than those relationships, i doubt ive been in one. well, tell me what you think. i need enlightenment.

Much Love.
P.

Monday, September 13, 2010

*thou shall not fuck thy neighbor's husbandry*

i had a dream.
a sweet succulent dream.
i dreamt of you.
your sweet delicious lips.
those eyes that tinker on the moonlight's glitter.
i devoured you.

i had a dream.
the night sings a lullaby.
a tune we'll never forget.
crazy running.
great expectations.
your scent that lingers.
i engulfed your manhood.

oh sweet mary mother of god jesus.
i had a dream.
and it involves eating you alive.

---------------------------------------------

and another attempt indeed. tragically, i can't write sexual stuff in that weird poetic way. anywho, everyone was outside the office, me being the nosy little twat that i admittedly am, i could'nt help but feel obliged to stick my nose up everyone else's business. so indeed, i ran up the heights of towering tragedies and went out looking like a whore in my ultra short boxers and a tiny shirt for sleeping.

ohhhh la la laaaaaa. a boy walking his dog. that sweet boy-next-door-with-semi-raunchy-look was indeed hotter than ever. first encounter with him was pretty brief. he came up to me and asked if the civic which was parked outside his place was mine. i said no. and then the second time, i was up the veranda at around 3 in the morning and he walked around topless. mmmm. yummyness.

this time, he was just walking the dog. wearing basketball shorts and a lousy shirt though i am seriously imagining him naked, in versace briefs and hermes flip flops. a man to devour indeed. he was a bit sweaty and didnt look my way since i was with the whole office.

mmmmm, i scream L!!!! come out! you havta see this! and i pointed at him. im seriously fantasizing about naked him in my bed. tragic! but oh oh oh. i know he aint straight baby! those looks that scream "eat me" seriously comes out of him naturally.

anyway, another sad lonely day for me.

hugs and cock licking.
P.

(btw, the pic posted above is definitely not the neighbor. thanks dear C for letting me use the sweet picture)

Sunday, September 5, 2010

*nicotine drenched silent conversation*

Comforting cold air washed my entity with emotions without reason. The season of jackets have begun.

I ran to the bathroom and let the steaming water engulf my quiet solitude. Humming to A.Len's version of "waiting in vain" and playing memories of his sweet kisses and floor sweeping whispers.

He is gone. I know that. I dried my hair and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes easily give my feelings away.

Walking to the room thinking of what to wear. The lights flickered and snippets of him laughing at me was vaguely remembered. I let my guard down.

I dressed up slowly. Plain white tee, tattered skinny jeans, flip flops. Grabbed my bag and comfy black sweater. Mmmm. The scent that remains, sweet nothings of vodka and nicotine. It lingers for a while.

Hailed a cab and it drove slowly. Dropped off at the curb of a familiar street.

I walked. I walked slowly. The rain poured like heaven was crying. No other choice but to run. Running. Seemed like eternity. Shadows dawned left and right.

As I reached the coffee joint of drama and judgment. I stood by a huge post. Scrummaging through the depths of my bag. A stick of Marlboro and a fuzzy black lighter.

I tried to light my stick but the Gods were furious. I'm drenched in despair. I needed misery's company.

His hands were shaking. A tiny whimpering flame in front of me.

A man in his 30's. 6 feet tall, scruffy hair, deep brown eyes. Black cardigan, black scarf, dark jeans, black loafers. Gorgeous.

His face showed something familiar. Something I've seen before. In the lines of seasonal mourning.

We remained silent and kept on smoking. He smiled and left.

The rain stopped and I walked my own path.

That moment I understood him.

He was lonely...

*hopeful beginnings*

 
Okay, tragic as it could be. I got my heart broken. But who cares right? I knew how to attach myself to someone, I should also know how to detach myself from him. Angry as I could be, theres no other way but to keep on trying. A day at a time.

I've had my fair share of these heartaches but sadly, I never learn anything from them. I keep falling back to familiar patterns. I keep having the same doubts, insecurities, and trust issues. Its quite odd that I am actually the cause of my own heartaches. The things I do to drive people away, and the paranoia I inflict myself with that ruins everything. Either or, I really am fucked up.

I so want to scream my lungs out right now. Sooo much anger that I told myself to let go of, yet still being the normal crazy person that I am, I keep it to myself and release it slowly. Well, its always bottled up. Up to the brink. Maybe its really time to just let it all out.

I'm so angry that I dont know what happened in between whatever there was. You told me to stop my insecurity with regards to my physical appearance. You told me I looked good yet how come you made me feel uglier than ever? Seriously. You told me im nice and you'd want to keep seeing me. But, where are you now? Am I really just a toy that you'd play with and leave? I am angry. Cause you broke me. I'm like this crazy person who keeps rewinding everything until I figure out what went wrong.

I dont know. I'm clueless. If you told me that I'm just a fuck then it would've been easier for me but you didnt. You showed me hope and you made me feel good. Yes, its just one night but I believed you. I trusted you. I let my guard down that night. I tried. Well, maybe I dont know. It just hurts.

I told myself I should stop obsessing about what happened. I couldnt. This is how I feel. This is how you made me feel. I'm broken. You broke me.

At some point, maybe its a good thing. You made me realize a lot of things. I sold myself short. As always. I dumb myself down, I acted like a simple person with simple wants and simple things. I acted as if I'm the sweetest person there is. I'm not who I really am when I was with you. In fact, I'm nowhere near the person I really am when I was with you. Maybe its my fault or maybe you just didnt give me the chance to show you who I really am.

I may not be fine now. But I'll be better soon, and by that time, you'll never get to know who I really am. Maybe this is all anger, or maybe I dont know. But at this point, I know. I'm worth more than you could ever imagine.

Thank you... for hurting me. Because now, I can stop being the nice person I was pretending to be. Because now, I'm no longer afraid to show who I really am. Its liberation in pain.