My last piece of writing, excluding my script abstract, was the song I wrote almost a year ago.
My current love interest says otherwise, however. When looking at her pictures and imagining sexual intercourse with her, this is the images that play out in my mind. Warning: this extremely graphic as it contains sexual content.
Her: ok well for right this second, instead of focusing on the emotional part of it, just tell me what those pictures make you want
Me: You.
I want to lose myself in you
on you
around you.
My soul embraces yours
and several times throughout intercourse, it is almost as if we are having an out of body experience.
We can see ourselves making love to one another
I gasp you moan.
All surroundings are nil.
Just you and I and blackness.
Not an empty, dark blackness,
but rather a blackness that is black because it is filled with everything all at once,
much like when you take all the colors of paint and mix them together.
As we writhe around on one another,
the blackness gives way to the colors,
exploding outwards as our lust fills the air and we explode in a mystical ecstasy.
Perhaps this is what the ancients meant when they described how the Gods made the world together.
Behind us is a field of flowers.
The wind blowing a breeze on a cool summer day.
There are no pests around, only simple sweet forest creatures that so many women call "cute"
The tall grass sways in the wind, as your hair blows while lying on the ground,
my pelvis thrusting against yours to the motion of the tree branches in the distance.
As these thrusts go deeper and harder, so does the background change,
the intensity grows, sweat glistens on your skin.
We find ourselves in some sort of cave, or an old castle room.
Candles surrounding us.
Faceless figures in the dark corners of the room,
doing nothing more than beating the drums in rhythm.
You throw me onto the floor and climb on top of me,
riding me like a wild bull,
your hair thrashing side to side,
the smile on your face growing larger and larger, the moans getting louder and louder
The drums pounding harder and harder
Then it all disappears.
Blackness.
Silence.
We speak but no words come out.
Perfect orgasm.
Everything fades back to reality, as you lay on top of me,
nearly in tears from the excitement and happiness.
And I adorn the first true, real smile I've had in a long, long time.
She knows who she is
My current love interest says otherwise, however. When looking at her pictures and imagining sexual intercourse with her, this is the images that play out in my mind. Warning: this extremely graphic as it contains sexual content.
Her: ok well for right this second, instead of focusing on the emotional part of it, just tell me what those pictures make you want
Me: You.
I want to lose myself in you
on you
around you.
My soul embraces yours
and several times throughout intercourse, it is almost as if we are having an out of body experience.
We can see ourselves making love to one another
I gasp you moan.
All surroundings are nil.
Just you and I and blackness.
Not an empty, dark blackness,
but rather a blackness that is black because it is filled with everything all at once,
much like when you take all the colors of paint and mix them together.
As we writhe around on one another,
the blackness gives way to the colors,
exploding outwards as our lust fills the air and we explode in a mystical ecstasy.
Perhaps this is what the ancients meant when they described how the Gods made the world together.
Behind us is a field of flowers.
The wind blowing a breeze on a cool summer day.
There are no pests around, only simple sweet forest creatures that so many women call "cute"
The tall grass sways in the wind, as your hair blows while lying on the ground,
my pelvis thrusting against yours to the motion of the tree branches in the distance.
As these thrusts go deeper and harder, so does the background change,
the intensity grows, sweat glistens on your skin.
We find ourselves in some sort of cave, or an old castle room.
Candles surrounding us.
Faceless figures in the dark corners of the room,
doing nothing more than beating the drums in rhythm.
You throw me onto the floor and climb on top of me,
riding me like a wild bull,
your hair thrashing side to side,
the smile on your face growing larger and larger, the moans getting louder and louder
The drums pounding harder and harder
Then it all disappears.
Blackness.
Silence.
We speak but no words come out.
Perfect orgasm.
Everything fades back to reality, as you lay on top of me,
nearly in tears from the excitement and happiness.
And I adorn the first true, real smile I've had in a long, long time.
She knows who she is