Sunday, May 13, 2012

day 5: whose hands

I’m talking about my orgasm now. Which was ass sort of off the bed, pillow under my clit. Pussy saying, if we had more organization would we have gotten a dildo? A finger?

So E-- recommended Ellis Avery. I did The Teahouse Fire a while ago. So The Last Nude.

On the way outta my walk the library notice came that hey, hey The book is In. And I got, and I don’t like the font and the smallness of the font. And I hate whatever I’m being taught as a writer from this Professor’s book. And then I just sort of let myself touch and read. Tap the clit and read in.
My pondering question is, like, does it matter whose face I put on the body I imagine bringing pleasure to mine. Because I run through faces, bodies, names, energies. I don’t remember who was there when I was at cum. Maybe it was just me.

Ah, it was. Me. Getting myself off.

It was a low pouring of caramel, not like the big HUH WAH. And that’s okay. The contractions came before the pink. And I rubbed out a little pink.

1 comment:

  1. My pondering question is, like, does it matter whose face I put on the body I imagine bringing pleasure to mine. Because I run through faces, bodies, names, energies. I don’t remember who was there when I was at cum. Maybe it was just me.

    Ah, it was. Me. Getting myself off.

    It was a low pouring of caramel, not like the big HUH WAH. And that’s okay. The contractions came before the pink. And I rubbed out a little pink.

    Ah, it was. me. Getting myself off. LOVE
    and
    and I rubbed out a little pink.

    and the way it's languaged.

    Yup.

    ReplyDelete