Thursday, February 24, 2011

#22411 Artificial

He danced the shredded nylon between his fingers, distracted from his original task by how easily the synthetic frayed between his fingers. He hated synthetic fabrics, but couldn't seem to escape them. They were everywhere in his life. He liked his strippers in synthetics- it only seemed appropriate. Cotton was too chaste a fabric for a girl doing-business-as Chastity. Strippers should not wear real materials because they do not exist in real worlds. Their worlds are shrouded in darkness and fatigued disdain. The ladies of the evening fawn promises of pleasure on would-be-suitors tat are as pure as the costumes that lay in puddles at their feet. To be successful, they must be skilled at seducing, but rarely satisfying.

Women like Chastity were vampires, hungry for the contents of any wallet or purse fool enough to summon them. He wondered if Chastity had ever meant what she purred into the ears of men as she peeled off her clothes for their enjoyment. He'd watched her coil her body round the pole on the middle of the stage salaciously contorting her body into serpentine shapes. She enticed with her eye contact. She beckoned with every bounce of her synthetic body. Now, she laid before him, spread across a borrowed bed, trying her best to look expensive against the bargain bed-in-a-bag comforter. The pattern was created haphazardly. A careless quilt that had no plan. It came apart at a few of the seams, not from age but rather from careless stitching.

The black nylon frayed more between his fingers. It seemed to dissolve with every touch. Each tug made it look less like a piece of fabric and more like the balls of scrap and thread that would collect under his grandmother's sewing machine. The memory transported him from the foot of the bed where he sat watching a woman who should be chaste writhe against herself like a she-beast in heat.

He could smell the smoke from her clove cigarettes though it had been well over 15 years since he'd actually smelled them. He reached to the spot on his arm where she had burned him with one of those brown cigarettes. It had been an accident, but it had singed his toddler flesh nonetheless. His grandmother was trying to take the scraps from him to put them in her scrap bag with all the other pieces of torn clothing or remnant of other people's bathrobes she stitched together artfully to make a living.

Eventually, the scraps he held would become a part of another quilt once she'd managed to wash the stink of lust and her sex from the nylon. He'd have to do it. She wasn't able to handle the intricacies of the craft anymore and besides, his grandmother hated synthetics almost as much as she would hate a woman like Chastity. A woman not quite a woman, much closer to a girl. She trivialized everything and lived only in the moment. It hadn't taken many bills to pass between their hands for Chastity to be in front of him as she now was.

Something about the ease with which she offered herself to the highest bidder enthralled him even if only for a few moments on someone else's bed. He liked looked at her body and trying to discover where her seams were. Chastity was a trinket he'd picked up for himself and unwrapped too hurriedly. So much so that he'd ripped her teddy to shreds. The pattern he thought he saw on the comforter was really the lace and straps he'd torn from her. His fervor had not subsided, but he wanted to savor what he'd purchased.

It was unclear if her writhing was a result of discomfort, ecstacy, or her desire to always appear as an object of lust and adoration. A walking, breathing piece of erotica. He wanted to know her age, but feared that conversation would make the moment dour and unpleasant. He rose from the foot of the bed. She stared at him with a look he was certain had been seen by many men before him and would no doubt be seen by many men after him. She beckoned him with a very deliberate curl of her lips. Every bat of her eyelashes, every slow exhale and the inhale that swole her ribcage causing nubile breasts to point to the heavens the way they surely did when the surgeon shaped and sculpted them....every part of this was intended to ooze sex. To allow it to waft off of her and each curl of sensuality to pull him in closer and closer to her willing trap.

Chastity sat up, laid an artificially tanned hand on one of her doctor sculpted tits, pouted her enhanced lips, and simultaneously twirled strands of hair a color that certainly didn't match her birth certificate. He couldn't help but think how beautiful this pseudo woman was. It was as if her synthetic clothes, body, and world mashed together so perfectly. Could it last forever or would the sparkle reveal itself to be no more than glitter and dust? He didn't really want to stay forever. Chastity would try to keep him if she knew what he came from. The possibility of her salvation aroused him. Made him think he was a knight or a prince come to rescue the beautiful damsel from the beasts of the darkness that kept her trapped in a make believe world.

The possibility of living two fantasies simultaneously, both the erotic of men's magazines and gentlemen's clubs and the juvenile of fairytales and Disney movies made her pout endearing to him. He wanted to experience her with all five senses. With Chastisty, he was on vacation from his everyday existence and wanted to revel in every moment his money paid for. He heard the Beatles playing somewhere. It felt like she was conjuring the lyrics of Helter Skelter with every breath she took.

"Do you want me to love you?"

He wanted to taste her. He wanted to suck her juices from the shreds he was using to trace the arch of her foot. She waited. Acrylic nails pinching around her right perky nipple. He crawled towards her and took that nipple into his mouth, cupping the swollen breast like a gourd full of water in a desert oasis. Chastity dropped her head back as if she'd been struck and let loose a moan from a place more real than anything else in this make believe room.

She slid her hand from breast to his neck, spreading her palm wide and pulling her hand into a fist allowing each lock of his hair to loop around her fingers. She had a fistful of his hair and he had a mouthful of her breast. In one motion he trailed a saliva heavy tongue from the nipple that caught his eye to her neck. He kissed her neck fervently, even bit her as she ran her fingers through his hair and dragged her left hand's fingertips along his back.

They caressed, kissed, pulled, tugged, snatched and bit each other until rubbing against one another's hot bodies became too much. Chastity whisper begged for him to complete her satisfaction. He withheld. Still happily living in the fantasy and afraid that entering her would bring his delight to an end. Chastity ground her body closer to him until it seemed as though she had melted into him completely. He deliberately held back, but she would not accept defeat. She wound her body and placed hands and mouth on him over and over again.

He forgot whatever responsibilities he had outside of this pretend place. Anything outside of this room was what now felt make believe and all that was real was the longing he felt for this artificial woman with her saccharine sex. Every faux part of Chastity was what was real. He wanted to ingest her and consume her so that no one else could be this close to her. His head swirled with Jim Beam and visions of what they could be pulled her closer to him.

Life outside had become complicated and presented situations beyond his control. Here, in this rented boudoir he had complete control over an inauthentic woman...a simple uncomplicated woman....She pulled him closer and slid her body against him. He felt himself against her. Her warm and inviting body, her wetness felt like a magnet he could not escape. He never wanted to escape this perfect pretend. This woman whose synthetic lingerie was sticking to his knees as she stared at him in a rehearsed glare that burned holes into his logic. This pouty perky place of peace came at a price he could easily afford financially, but emotionally she was bankrupting him with her flesh.

Chastity was available to him with no demands no requirements. He pulled on one of those pouted lips with his mouth. He believed this to be real even if only for those moments. Chastity took hold of him and slid him inside the only thing on her that was real. He allowed himself to relax, let go of all restraint, and suddenly, nothing else mattered.


Wednesday, February 23, 2011

#22311 skype

he was where he was
and she was where she was
and that wasn't the same place
geographically or otherwise.

they both wanted to keep in

they both wanted to be

she needed to be
so desperately.

they logged on.

she looked at him.

he looked at her.

they made idle chatter for a while
and then
she leaned a certain way
and her shirt hung lower than it should've.

he caught a glance of more than he should've.

he said things he shouldn't've.

she blushed.

pulled her shirt up instantly
but kinda liked the things he said.

kinda wanted him to say more.

definitely wanted him to say more.

she leaned again
accidentally on purpose
and let more of her shirt fall forward

"seems like it's in the way, you might as well just take it off,"

he said.

she did.

she watched him bite one side of his lower lip
imagined it was her mouth biting that lip
even found herself biting her own in effigy.

she could taste how sweet his mouth was.

staring at him
staring at her
naked before him
with nothing but two monitors between them
the hundreds of miles between them disappeared.

she bit her finger
she bit her lip
excited all at once
and he
he was excited too.

her hand traveled
along her torso
let her fingers dance along the curve of her breast.

he watched
imagining her fingers were his
remembering how soft her skin felt.

her hands became his as she let her hand travel
and through the screen
he parted her thighs
the smallest moan escaped her lips.

he bit his lower lip again
remembering how her warm felt.

she saw him biting and remembered how good his hands felt
when they danced across her skin.

she saw him biting and remember how good his mouth felt
when he traced her with the tip of his tongue
covering her body with kisses
with bites.

they both remembered.

her hands became his.

his hands became hers.

each one of them staring
into the screens
into each other's eyes.

staring into each other's eyes was

their hands covering each other's bodies

reaching across the miles to
feel each other.

his breathing quickened.

he let out a deep sigh.

something about hearing that sigh
made her start to run down his fingers.

she let out a deep sigh.

he could feel that she was ready for him.

she could feel he was ready for her.

she let him slide his fingers inside her
welcomed him with another low guttural moan.

he reciprocated by allowing her to wrap her fingers 'round him
and he liked it.

he mmmmed with approval.

they both wanted to be

they needed to be

and she touched him
and he touched her
across the miles
through the screens

they touched
and moaned
and writhed against
each others imaginations.

eyes squeezed shut
willing sense memories to the mind's surface.

ignoring the space.

ignoring the distance.

each gasped.

she arched and he plunged one

and time stopped.

but for their panting in unison
each would have forgotten the other was there.

the opened their eyes

she stared at her long distance lover
and smiled,

he returned her smile as if it were the kiss they both missed
and stared at her
sated for now,
but sure to want more again.

"wow...tomorrow night?"

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Whoa Black Betty....

"i'm sooo rocksteady, bamalam, but i'm always ready." #lilyremixes

i don't mind the newer versions either....

#12611 He Called Me Lucky

She remembers the first time he showed her his scars….
she’d gone to 2 for 1 margaritas and on a whim sent him a text to see if he was free that evening.
they’d been sexting back and forth for what felt like years but really had only been a few months.
It had only been since memorial day and it wasn’t even labor day yet.
He said he was coming through
She didn’t know what to do.
She was new
She was new again.
She hadn’t been new in a while, and she was very, very new.
He came over
Traversed all the boros he had to get through to get to her
And he was there
He was there and just as fine as all the pictures he’d sent her over the months had made him out to be.
She was afraid.
She was afraid of disappointment
She was afraid the anticipation would outlive the possibility
She was afraid that they hype would be greater than the hump.
He pulled up his pants leg and showed her his scars.
There were so many of them
So many places but somehow, they worked for him.
So deeply imbedded in the curvature of the muscles of his leg
They were
Almost more perfect than the ones he’d paid for on his arms.

She’d had 2 for 1 margaritas and had to follow up with something when she got home ‘cause she was not typically the kind of girl who did things like that….

Isn’t that always what all the girls who typically do stuff like this say say before they do something like this again?
He sat on the floor
She sat on the edge of the couch
Watching him
Rub one scar and then another
It was just something about being close to a man that
In her house who wanted to be with her enough to travel as far as he did to get there.

She pounced.
She didn’t mean to pounce,
I promise you she didn’t
She didn’t even realize she was stratteling him and that one lobe of that delightful ear
his one delightful unpierced ear was in her mouth.
She sat facing him and his hands cupped her buttocks as if he were going to offer her up in to the heavens in thanks for what she was doing to

His neck
His ear
His neck
His ear
His collarbone

Up to his chin
Up to those lips
Those lips to this day still make her quiver

She saved a picture of him to her mental harddrive and every now and again she opens it to remember what those lips did to the many,many,many inches of her long frame again and again and again….

It was his fault
If he hadn’t shown her those scars and how they formed dimples on those amazing legs of his
She wouldn’t have done it
But she did

And now
His hands are now up her back
His hands are now in the nape of her neck
Holding it back
Two fists full of her hair
Craning her neck away from his mouth so that he could take her in the way that she had taken him in

His hands had none of the callouses that a man of his musculature should have had.
His hands felt like they should have spent his life embroidering
No scars on those

She couldn’t even remember how their shirts came off
But she did remember feeling as though in that split moment when his amazing torso pressed against her breast first time that she probably should’ve never done anyone or anything but him.

He wrapped his arms around her completely.
He could wrap his arm,
one arm
around her all the way.
She felt small and frail in his strong embrace and she liked it.
She liked the way it made her feel.
It made her bold

She pulled her own hair
She pulled herself back down to devour that mouth.

Without so much as a grunt a moan or a forced breath he stood holding her
She wrapped her serpentine self him
Her legs clinging to his waist as though that was where they had always intended to be.
His arms around her
And the next thing she knew they were somehow undressed
Neither of them remembers how it happened
She remembers one of those scars brush ever so slightly against her inner thigh
She felt the scar and then his nipple drag closer to her knee
as his face went lower
and lower
and lower
covering every molecule of her flesh with kisses.
She hadn’t planned on it going here
They were just going to make out,
She thought
But, make out they did like BANDITS
The way that he was making her feel she soaked his mouth, his chin, his mustache, his beard,
She didn’t know she could get as wet as she was.


He moaned as he devoured her.
As he stuck his tongue deep inside her
In a place where no one had been in sooo long.
Nobody had been there in such a while.

She turned the light off and lost track of where she was
But somehow she could still see colors
She could still see the notes that the slow jams mixtape she’d put together were singing
And she couldn’t even read music.

He felt
He felt like every moan she had wasted on any and every one who came before him

And when he finally tore the wrapper open
covered himself in a sheath and slid into her
When he finally got inside her

Sweet Lord and Baby Jesus

She was new
He made her new
And she didn’t want to know anything but him
He knew how new she felt.
And instead of being cocky or arrogant or stuck up or disgusting
He moaned as if he was new as well.

Their new newness
Their joint newness
Made her even wetter
And she felt herself sliding against him,
She felt herself rocking with him,
Towards him
Against him
Under him

He slid one of those softly strong into the small of her back
Cupped her buttocks
And pulled her closer in
She couldn’t help it
She shrieked

He looked at her startled and didn’t know what to make outta the sound she just made
It sounded like someone just cut the throat out of a live rooster
She said
“I am so sorry….It’s just that you are sooo fcking…..”

and she couldn’t even finish the rest sentence
‘cause he was soooo fcking her sooo fcking well.

Then he started to say her name

She lost it

She lost control

He just kept panting her name into her neck
“Lucky….” She heard him moan

“Lucky!” She heard him moan

as he started to go harder

“LUCKY!!!.” She heard him moan….

And she couldn’t remember his name ‘cause she’d only invited him over for a few drinks so she just said

“Yes, baby! YES Baby! YES BABY!!!”

And he kept calling her Lucky and all she felt ‘cause she certainly was to be something that felt like that
And Lucky she became.

That night he held her ALL
Long after they were winding against each other’s pelvises
Long after they’d made a sweaty puddle against her new Egyptian cotton sheets
He held her in that puddle.
She was perfectly willing to give him the spaces he thought he was going to need
So she rolled over.

He took one of those chiseled arms, slid it underneath her
Pulled her to him
Wrapped her in the other one
Nuzzled the back of her neck from her kitchen to her collarbone
Kissed her across as much of her breast as he could without folding her and breaking her bones in those oh-so-strong arms of his

And then

They went to sleep

She felt part of him still hard against her
She felt part of him still hard rubbing on the top of her thigh
And she almost forgot she didn’t really know him
Almost let him slide back in
But he was sleep
She felt the twitch of his slumber
She felt the sleep in the breaths he exhaled along her neck
Breathing softly on her neck
Breathing sweetly as a new baby

They were new
He knew how new they were and he let it be amazing.

Wilkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome