Catharsis

I was feeling restless, dizzy, and out of sorts. I could smell my hunger- it was not going to be pretty.

My mind adrift with memory, thoughts and imaginings. the slightest contact now would send me into spirals of misgivings. I did not want that. I wished that I could remain focused and sharp. Reality sharp, I mean, not my dreamy excuse for it.

I walked into the smoky atmosphere, full to the brim with laughing and empty promises. The smell of beer and desperation hanging in the air, almost visible. There in the darkest corner I saw him. My salvation. My sacrificial lamb. He didn`t have any idea of how important he was to me as he sat there, eyes drifting lazily across the room like the cigarette smoke that flowed from carelessly held cylinders of tobacco and paper. I could tell he was broken inside, apart from the self-assured wholeness he tried to project.

My heart skipped a beat. Or did it? Perhaps it speeded up, but it was all the same sensation in that hazy, dream-like atmosphere.

I walked to the bar, ordered my slice of unreality on the rocks, and then made my way towards him. I didn`t approach him right away, but stood a little distance apart from him, My peripheral vision waiting to see if he caught himself looking. He did. His eyes flicked over me once, disinterested.

That half-hearted look incensed me, made me want to go over and splash burning alcohol and cold ice cubes onto his face. I inched closer, my body swaying to some inner rhythm, pretending to keep the beat of the raucous music that pounded through the air. Placing my glass on the table before him, I lifted my eyes and willed him to meet my unselfconscious stare. He did, and I saw a cloud of uncertainty flit across his clear blue eyes. Then it cleared, and he spoke in his deep voice. “hi.”

It was all he said, but it was enough to solidify my resolve. He was the one. I nodded to myself and moved to right in front of him, conscious of how my woman smell drifted to his nostrils - I saw them flare slightly as he caught a stray tendril of perfume. He smiled, tried to appear self-assured and in control. I wasn`t having any of that. I told him that we would dance. He nodded once and stood, taking my hand in his as we moved fluidly towards the knot of people writhing on the dance-floor. As we danced, I grazed my body against his. Light, almost accidental touches of my skin against him. I felt the electricity each time. Now his body and being yearned for me. It made me smile.

Yes, I thought. Yes. He is the one tonight. Tomorrow there will be another, but for tonight he is all that I need.

Suddenly I caught a spark of emotion and outrage from across the room. My eyes scanned, and eventually found the source. A brassy blonde, too full of alcohol and men`s compliments to imagine herself any less than perfect. She angered me.

Glancing an apology to him, I moved to her, pulled her ear close to my mouth, and whispered to her. She bridled in anger, but one look from me, and she was subdued, realising her powerlessness beneath the makeup and blonde hair dye. My lips set in a grim line, I made my way back to him, swaying as my rhythm took hold of me once again. He smiled and asked if I knew her. I replied with some or other flippant answer and he was satisfied with that.

After we had danced, I held my mouth to his ear and whispered the words that I knew he wanted to hear. We moved towards the door, I led him outside, so far from the safe places he had known. I could smell his lust springing upon him, like a fox surprises a rabbit.

Outside it was cool. There was rain in the air, but for now it was just a promise. The darkness enfolded us and the sounds of the night seemed to rise up and form a screen around us. He mumbled something about how beautiful I was, and I realised then that I was the link between his reality and his dreaming.

No matter.

My purpose was clear, my hunger sharp. I kissed him, and then pulled back in time to see a fog of madness fill his eyes. He grasped me tight, and I let him feel that he was overpowering me, it fed him. He clutched and gasped as his mouth roamed over my neck, his tongue in my ear, his breath cloudy and beery as it spread across my skin. I allowed him to have his way. His hand stroked and grabbed at my breasts, his lust and longing making him clumsy and rough. I revelled in it all. I could smell him. the scent coming in waves off of him made my hunger into a keening scream within me. As he fumbled with my skirt, trying to lift it and sink his fingers into the warmth and wet of me.

I closed my eyes. Waiting. Waiting.

Waiting for precisely the right moment.

His lust was an almost visible fog about us now, rich and dark and throbbing through the air between us. I grasped the back of his head, licked my lips, and sank my teeth into the tender flesh of his neck. Just below his full earlobe. He gasped, mistaking my hunger for lust. It was only when he felt the needle-sharp prick of my teeth against the skin of his delicate artery that he gave pause for thought. By then it was too late.

He was mine.

He struggled, but I let the strength that I had kept hidden in a show of feminine helplessness take over. He tried to cry out, but his words were so full with lust and fear that they were unintelligible. I sank my teeth into his blue vein, and felt the rush of thick, hot blood flow into my mouth.

Better than orgasm, that first taste.

Better than sex had ever been.

Please read no further if you are offended by erotica.

Sunlight wakes me, streaming bright and hot across the foot of my bed. rolling over and sitting up, my head gives a warning throb of pain. I look around, sleep still crouching at the corners of my mind, and try to sequence the vague flashes of memory I have of the previous evening`s entertainment.

My eyes scan the room and I see male paraphernalia scattered here and there. A tie hangs over the arm of a chair, a watch, a moneyclip and a set of car keys lay on the bedside table. Smiling broadly, I turn and bury my face into the pillow beside mine, inhaling deeply of the male musk I find there.

Rising and going through to the bathroom, I quickly sit on the toilet, wincing as the cold porcelain shocks my naked ass. I finish and flush and then I grab my toothbrush and load it with pepperminty paste. Brushing with one hand, I reach over and turn on the taps of the shower with the other. A hot stream of water gushes out of the showerhead, and I smile to myself again. I finish brushing and then test the temperature of the water before stepping under the soothing spray.. I stand there for a few moments, letting the warm water sluice down my body, easing the tension in my back and sending ripples of bliss through me.

Reaching for the soap, I begin lathering myself, building up a rich, slippery foam. As I am washing, I allow myself to linger on thoughts of last night..
…my back arched in orgasm, eyes shut tightly, and clutching with both hands to bring the man thrusting above me deeper, closer into me…
….my muscles stretched in taut pleasure as I straddle him, breasts swaying as I grind myself down onto him, into him, him clutching at my hips as he drives himself upwards into me…

The memories make my blood rush faster in my veins, and a pulse of desire throbs through me. I reach up to cup my breasts, slick with soap and water, and I gasp as my forefingers and thumbs close over my nipples, pinching them into tight buds. My one hand slithers down my body, over my stomach and down onto my pubic mound. I press in slightly, and the tip of my index finger slips down onto my clit. Gasping, I spread my legs a little further apart, and run my finger up and down my slit …

Feeling a cool breeze wash across my back, I open my eyes and look up from my reverie. He is standing there, his eyes sliding over my tits, my hips, my thighs. he sees I have noticed him, and smiles, stammers out.. “uh, I made coffee.”
Smiling back in acknowledgement, I ask .. “you want to shower too?” He actually blushes, “Hmm, I`ll shower with you if that`s ok.”

I tilt my head and give him a sly smile, stepping back to allow him to slip into the shower beside me. He steps under the jet of water, sighing as he feels the same relaxing warmth run through him that I had only moments ago.

I reach for him and slip my arms around him, my breasts pressing into his chest. Our mouths find each others and we kiss, quick darts of our tongues into each other`s mouths. A greeting kiss. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him, and pushing himself against me. I feel his need, his presence, and another wave of lust rushes over me, weakening my knees and flooding my pussy. Seperating myself from our kiss, I reach for the soap and begin running it over his chest, having to reach up a little because of his height. As I move the soap up and down over his body, I follow it with my other hand, curling my fingers into the hair on his chest, and tweaking his nipples gently with my nails. I look up at him, and see in his eyes the same hunger I had seen last night. I make a show of rubbing the soap down over his hips, onto his thigh, scrupulously avoiding his groin. as I slip the soap over his thigh, I drop it. Looking up at him with a wicked smile, I mouth, “oops”

I kneel down, keeping eye contact with him, and my hand curls around his rapidly hardening cock. He gasps and moans, his eyes closing for a second. In my hand, his cock throbs and twitches. I shift my gaze from his face to his cock, and move my mouth towards it. Kissing the velvety head lightly, I extend my tongue and run the tip of it along the vein pulsing on the underside. I move forward, and take the head into my mouth, allowing it to slip slowly between my lips, breathing out as I envelop it, licking gently at the slit with my tongue. Over and over again, I slip his head in and out between my lips, my tongue flicking and wiggling all over the sensitive tip. He groans deeply and reaches down to twine his fingers into my wet hair, holding my head with restrained urgency.

Gripping the base of his cock with one hand, I bring the other up to cup his balls, and move my mouth further down onto his shaft, curling my tongue, wrapping it around him. wrapping my lips around his pole. I slowly begin moving my hot mouth up and down over it, lapping at it, taking more of his shaft into my mouth with each stroke. His cock is glistening wet, both from my saliva and from the rushing water of the shower. Pushing my head forward, I take all of him into my mouth, feeling his glans bump gently at the back of my throat. He utters a hoarse moan, and presses my head forward, holding me with his cock in my throat. I begin sucking gently, swishing my tongue along the underside of him, and swallowing, knowing that my throat muscles are clutching at his pulsing head. He cries out in pleasure, and I slowly withdraw, moving my mouth back up his shaft, and wrapping my hand around it once more, milking him into my mouth. His hips begin to move involuntarily, and he thrusts his cock towards me in rhythm with my motions.

I let go of him and move my hands around to grasp his buttocks, digging my fingers into the clenched muscles, and pulling his cock deeper into my mouth. He grunts and begins pushing my head forward with his hands, fucking himself in and out of my warm mouth. I feel the muscles in his buttocks clench tighter, and he jerks in my mouth.. he throws his head back and his body tenses, his cock begins spurting jets of hot salty liquid deep into my throat, and he thrusts forward as his orgasm floods into me.. I swallow instinctively, wrapping my hand around his shaft again to milk every drop from him. I keep him in my mouth, my lips wrapped around his shaft as his orgasm fades and his cock begins to soften.

He is standing with his palms flat against the shower wall, breathing heavily. He looks down at me and then reaches to pull me up towards him. He is wrapping his arms around me and whispering wordlessly in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers through me.

In quiet contentment, we both finish washing and then turn off the by now cooling shower. We wrap ourselves in warm towels and make our way through to the bedroom again. The bed awaits us, rumpled and wrapped in bright shafts of sunshine.

You taught me
about blood and pain
and how to cry.
You taught me
about building walls
and tearing down defenses.
You taught me
to be silent,
to hold words inside.
You taught me
to be strong
and how to smile.
You taught me
about secret places
inside my mind.
You gave me courage.
You gave me rage.
You gave me away.

The blogging phenomenon. It’s taken the world by storm, and it seems that anyone who is (or thinks they are) anyone is blogging these days.

I love blogs. I love to read random blogs - it’s like standing outside a stranger’s window, and catching a momentary glimpse of their lives. I don’t have any blogs that I read religiously, or even fairly regularly, but I do read many, many blogs each day.

There are certain types of blogs that leave me feeling hollow though - those blogs with the lists… you know the type: 10 Things You Can Do To Get Blog Traffic, 15 Mistakes Bloggers Make, 37 Ways To Make Money From Blog Ads, and those that have more paid posts than actual original, heartfelt writing. I also die a little inside each time I see a blog with so much flashy, trashy advertising on it that I can’t find the actual posts.

I don’t begrudge anyone making money from their writing, by any means, but I do feel saddened that so many promising and talented writers have become marketing copywriters for all kinds of miscellaneous products. Products that companies think we would be more inclined to buy if “ordinary people” are paid to endorse them. When did blogging become more about revenue earned from advertising and less about the love for and joy of writing?

More and more of the blog windows I’m peeking into these days are not glimpses into other people’s lives, but constantly airing infomercials.

This was the most sincere blog I read all day: