Because You Won’t

Because you won’t

 

It Is a fairly safe bet that there are a lot of people in the world who don’t exactly love me.  If you bet the over on the vast majority of those being male you won that wager.   Since i can remember as the saying goes i am the one your mother, best firend, and priest warned about. Speaking of someone who never exactly loved me…

 

So once upon a time there was Bobby and Kay.  Bobby was the all American man. Handsome rugged type, and as seems to be the case was cut from a giant wussy tree.

 

Kay was like a line from a Mickey Avalon song “She had big eyes and a big ass to match.  Jane (or in this case Kay) wasn’t fast she was easy to catch.

 

Well until she met Bobby. But before that i caught her… a lot. It was all good clean sexy and/or kinky fun. Nothing more. Neitjer of us ever pretended it was more than just sex, which made it a beautiful thing.

 

Then when Bobby came along she tried to forget all that and be what she thought he wanted; for about the amount of time it takes a 911 non turbo version to go from zero to 60.  The truth is she probably thought he would enthusiasticly do the things with and too her that she liked after a little time.

 

A little while later we’d start playing again. Whether he was truly fully informed, just couldn’t connect the dots, or was playing dumb is not my place to say. But eventually the “hey you’re fucking, playing rough with, etc my girlfriend “ bulb did illuminate.

 

A while later because we (Kay and I) shared a series of friends I would get to know Bobby.  Nice guy, and fucking hated me.  

 

One night a few drinks into his night he decided to bring up the fact he didn’t like his girl seeing me.  At all, ever, in fact he didn’t like her even breathing the same air in the same city as me.  And it was a big city.  So i listened, and when he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it and i was just short of punching him in his fuckong face finally interjected. “She only sees me because you won’t …(i paused) do what she’s into.”

 

Insert facial rage and the sound of a heart breaking in perfect syncopation. Kind of like the beat of the live version of NiN’s “Big Come Down” Over the course of the next hour we had a fairly good conversation.   

 

Turns out i was wrong. Bobby eventually try to give her what she (said she) wanted, but she still would play with me and others. At one point the three of us would do one of the oddest two tops and a bottom scenes i’ve ever partaken in.

 

Maybe things started back up because he and her were on different wavelengths but in the end, well she was just not a one guy kind of girl

 

No judgement after all i’ve never been a one girl kind of guy either. In my case i have blue eyes, broad shoulders, and have become slightly harder to catch over the years.  The same can’t be said for Kay, which is a beautiful thing.

Breathe

 

Sometimes when everything else is said and done.

The lust quenched, her submission complete

There is something peaceful, deeply connecting, and amazing

if you just step back and watch her breathe.

 

So I sat there admiring her every breath

she had been beaten, Used for my pleasure,

driven to orgasm mercilessly over and over again…as a “reward”

then covered in wax, one slow drop after another,

from belly, to breasts, and thighs,

then back again.

during n inhilation wax on the Tempress's body

All that was left to do was sit there as she floated away,

lost in her own thoughts, or swimming in the bliss of nothingness,

and watch her

Breathe

Sinful Sunday

Slap My Tits

“Slap my tits.”  For all the kinky things i had done to that point it never occurred to me to smack anyone’s breasts. It was not a natural thing for me to think off. Ass, thighs, pussy, all made perfect sense smack. Tits…not so much.

Kylee and I had a slap and tickle, fuck her rough (mostly from behind) kind of relationship. It wasn’t explicitly kinky but looking back it wasn’t really vanilla either.  

It was just nice roughish sex, nothing more. So i slapped her tits as requested. On more than one occasion, even making them (kind of) red once or twice.  She was the first but not the last for this kind of play. Though truth be told i much prefer to use a crop or flogger.

She was however the only small breasted woman ever to ask for me to slap her tits.  Literally a small A cup it was not to firm upward breast shaking swing of a BDSM video.   She was tall but petite and my hand easily covered far more than breast.

Still she asked, I obliged, she got off on it and in some way so did I.   You can’t be kinky for as long as I have been with out a few requests that weren’t a hard limit, kind of worked for me since it worked for my partner but were never put into regular rotation.  Now flog my tits would be an entirely differnt game, and in that case game on.

Note:  The pic is of Alice and not the individual who made this request.

come join the naughty fun this wicked Wednesday

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Are You Tender with Her

“Are you tender with her” it was not a question I expected. Not one I had ever been asked. I had to process it. Ask for clarification.

Admitting i wasn’t sure what she meant, which is often the case. She repeated the question “are you tender with her. Kind, supportive, affectionate…” her voice trailed off rather than adding more.

In a way i was taken back. At the same time the question seemed deeply important to her and strangely intiment to me.

“i’m not an abusive jerk.” it wasn’t meant as a defensive statment. “It can be easy to confuse the rough interchanges with the real world dynamic.”  I added on

“i kiss her hello and good bye, there are as many gentle touches as there are rough ones. She feels warm and soft curled up next to me and i very much like that.”

After a short pause “so yes i am tender with her, supportive, polite, and kind…except for the times that we agree that I shouldn’t be.”

 

She simply said.  “Thanks i just wanted to understand.” Amd then moved in to other topics seemingly satisfied on some level that i am more than just my kinks with another.

 

 

The Job Changes You

“The job changes you” was a phrase that first really rang true the day after the U.S. elections. I was passing through the Philadelphia airport on my way to California and surrounded literally by weeping adults. Distraught over Clinton’s loss.

Truth be told i believed Clinton to be not a much better an option than Trump.

 

A different kind of dangerous but a problem nonetheless. I knew deep down she was unelectable long before election day. Here’s why.

I live with three women. One who is 46 and has always despised her. Note not her husband just her. She has never resonated with the Blonde who has always seen her as manipulative.

One who is 22 and saw her as part of the establishment; part of the problem with the federal government divided bi partisan issues and fueled by private and corporate money. She politically is as individual rights and freedoms as they come. The Poster child for Guns, Gays and deregulation.

And an 18 year old who was perhaps the most outspoken “You know why the old cunt won’t win. Because today’s young women no more want to be told what to do by some old man than they do some old woman who refuses listen and thinks gender warrants a vote.”. She despite walking the halls of a liberal University and actively working for some of the most liberal causes was not once swayed. In fact Lil and many of her friends refused to be told who they must vote for. They see women as complete equals and were offended by both the pandering to her age group and the demands that “as a woman she must vote for a woman”.

Hillary was 0 for 3 in my own home with females. That alone is a problem. In true Malflic fashion 0 for four counting me. I went with a protest vote as is my tradition in most national elections. Had Biden run or Bernie gotten the nomination that would not have been the case.

Rather than mourn the outcome or scream in the streets about injustice i have chosen a different path. As have a number of my liberal and moderate conservative leaning friends with some means both modest and great.

We have chosen to write checks to organizations will oppose Trump (or perhaps more importantly Pence) that we feel are worthy. We have decided to support with our time and in some cases our money candidates, including some not up for reelection for a few years that will oppose the right wing agenda. One who publishes her daily donations of 5 to 50 dollars on social media with a thank you note to Trump for making her have to be a better human.

I have spoken out against both sides of the establishment before and will continue to do so. Religion belongs in government not at all. And government does not belong in our private lives.

Yet there are issues that are undeniable.
The repeal of the ACA can only be justified if there is a replacement for it that improves care, expands who is covered, and reduces cost. Some of it may have to come from government, and some from free market forces in the form of increased competition and reduced restrictions. Like most things it will take a balance.

The supreme court possibilities terrify me.

The Left is trying to stifle dissent during the Obama administration has set us up for a backlash during a Republican controlled world.

Immigration reforms. Christ what a global mess. Yet i do have an assimilate or die attitude. You can not force your culture upon another, integration into the place you are residing is essential for it to work.

Don’t get me started on Brexit. Seriously wtf were people thinking?

Putin, troops in Poland, Syria the list is endless. The revolutions will be televised and spun. The truth, if there is such a thing hidden or subjective.

Do i hope the job changes him?
I do and interestingly enough there have begun to be online comparisons to Kennedy by unlikely sources and hacker groups. We can only hope that is true while working to ensure if it is not the damage and shift can be contained.

Past experience from when Bush took office tells me the religious right will become emboldened. I was albeit a small scale target of their rage and damnation in those days. A moral liberal defiling our great nation. A left wing nut job, a morally repulsive abomination. The more they hated me the happier i was. Because well. …Science!

Yet i’m in a different place now. My passport is still from the United States but fundamentally i don’t consider myself American. My family heritage is European yet other than a few (pagan) traditions and foods i am not European either.

My friends are quite literally from everywhere. Egypt to England, Brazil to Slovakia, the Nordics to Nigeria. India to Australia, Puerto Rico to Paris to Gaum. And yes my phone bill is ungodly. On the surface it is about currency and trade.

Beyond that though it is about culture and customs. Reference points of strange similarities and vast differences.

In my case the job has changed me, changed my understanding, my appreciation, and shown how complex, wonderful, and dangerous things are.

My last bastion of hope is that the job changes all of our leaders. Not just Trump in much the same way it has changed me.

And that those are of great enough strength of character to convey those things and their importance to the masses…even the ones not inclined to such affronts to their nation states superiority.

Until we stop being Republicans or Democrats, Americans or not, until we realize we are human and not something different or more the song will remain the same. We will be manipulated, lied to, and cajoled by others agendas.

And if the job does not change our leaders it is our job to change them. Or become the leaders ourselves.

That work has just begun.

Wither

Robert said he hates you, but he’ll try to explain.

I wish you would leave me , true joy would be never having to see you, anywhere ever again.

You are cold and your are biting,

Filled with a hateful frigid chill

Every time you chase away the one I truly love

with the most persistent skill

So perfect and so pretty, playing at lies of innocence, fake purity dressed in white.

Dancing in the darkness, covering all around you  with a blanket I despise.

When we both were younger on and in your blankets we would gently play

Now that i am older it just hurst me and will  never feel any other way.

Life has withered and is dying,

it simply can not show its self and joyously abound

Your darkness it eats the joy

And there is no good even hiding in your nights, when ever your still around.

We used to interwine our coats playing on the hills far from others sights

Over hill and dale, inseparable through every day and night.

You use to make me happy, you used to dance and smile

But now there is only numbness and a relentless desperate effort to once again beguile.

Someday i will leave you

And me you’ll naver miss

No last hello ,No first good bye

Not even a sad and fleeting kiss

One day when all with withered

One day when the one one I love is gone

I’ll disappear, far beyond your cold caress

And spend an endless summer on my lawn.

**********

Poetry is open to interpetation. Please feel free to do so with this one but know that i am fine and well. I simply have no time for winter any more.   Someday soon I expect during the season of wither you will find me in Scottsdale.

4 Days in the Life of Malflic

4 days in the life of Malflic

I try to share interesting events, perspectives or funny stories here.  This is kind of a little less varnished but reflects a single day in my life both work, relationship, and socially.

 

I only work Half Days

12:30am i wake up after having about 3 hours of sleep. I’m actually home in my own bed. The Chesty Blonde is awake next to me and on her phone.   She is either playing words with friends, or making or amending a list of everything she has to do in the coming days or weeks. Her calendar is worse than mine because it also includes all the kids things as well. Shows about forensic science and murder victims in on TV.  An evening ritual. It is always murder, sports or cooking.

Often i wonder if she sits there and plans how to kill me nightly on one of her lists.  Actually despite that concern i’m relieved it’s not a cooking show.

30 minutes later i abandoned the idea of sleep or conversation and head downstairs my pillow in tow.  I turn on death (different channel same type of show as before)  it allows me to have noise without making me think and spend 90 minutes by the light of the TV doing email, texting and what not with Europe and Asia.  

With business under control and an alarm set the phone goes back in airplane mode. It’s 2:30 am local time.

3:15 am =-I fall asleep on the couch sitting half upright.

4:56 am – i wake up 49 minutes earlier than i need to. Two minutes later the idea of sleep is again abandoned.  Both phones are turned on and plugged in to charge.

5:07… or so = after shaving and debating which of 4 available facial cleansers to use my mind drifts for a few minutes to how nice it would be to have company in the shower.  Thoughts of masturbation drift into my mind. An erection begins to form and then harden despite my conscious mind having become focused on the more mundane tasks ahead.

The hard on is undeniable, more than firm enough for any type of penetration and it’s literally not yet been touched.  i’ve not cum in over 3 days and in a millisecond give in to the urge for a quick orgasm.

The hot shower still cascading over me i began fantasizing about a mixture of a dream that literally woke from a good night’s sleep a few days earlier and a hand job a lover had given me a little while back. I switch to using a technique i had taught her rapidly edging my self closer and closer to a release. And just when it would be impossible to hold out any longer switched back to jerking off with a more traditional stroke.

Milking my cock for every bit of cum possible.  Noting that it is rare my orgasm is that intense without a partner. My legs twitch a bit. I wash off again, wipe down the shower and get dressed.   Already knowing those would be the last moments that anything sexual would be in my thoughts for more than a few fleeting seconds in the next three days. The rest of my life wouldn’t allow it.

5:25 i kiss the sound asleep and snoring Chesty Blonde forehead goodbye. She doesn’t stir at all. A win as she sleeps only slightly better than me and worries about everything far more.

5:30am the first annoyance of the day. I had opted not to use car service to and from the airport. A car has been left out for me as our garages are full due to both kids being back at home for a few months.  There was a hard frost on the windows. It was 17 farenheit out. I start the car, curse as i scrape the frost off the windows.  Instead of being in a new preheated 7 series BMW driven by Doug or Kyle i’m in youngest daughter’s 10 year old freezing honda accord.  Driving rapidly towards the interstate that leads to the airport the calls start before I’ve passed the 3rd house on my block.

5:35 am – An omnipresent bluetooth headset in my ear as i have a work friend tracking down people all over London who haven’t answered anything in seven months. When no one answers we immediately cut rank and have him go to the P&L owners up the food chain.  

6:15 am – all of heated conversation has been resolved. The last 10 minutes has been spent with car parked 50 feet from the door to the airport.  This lot is one luxury I won’t ever compromise on.  It saves me between 15 and 45 minutes each way on every trip. In my world time is literally money. Or more accurately it is money i am not making when not being productive and the one thing i will never get back.

This also; literally down to the minute is the time that was originally planned to leave my house by.

6:23 am – i am through the preferred security line and back on the phone with Europe and Asia.  Along the way I got to wish my favorite morning  TSA agents “Happy Holidays”. It is my last scheduled outbound flight of the year.  

There are probably too many US airports where i know many of them by name and they also recognize if not greet me the same way. Some Days they will be the only people I speak to that i know and see regularly that are not co workers.  

6:43 am – i wrap what probably is my 20th call of the day. The number is higher than usual based on who in the UK didn’t answer their phone and the urgency or my need for answers and commitments.  Looking at the insane line at Starbucks and the full services restaurant that was empty right next to it.  Contemplating how hungry i am (I’d not had a bite of food in 14 hours)  Much like my neglected carnal needs earlier that produced both morning wood and a shower hard on I decided to indulge again, this time my stomach and actually eat breakfast  Two eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast with 3 jumbo american sized diet cokes was the winner

During the entire meal i make and take calls while doing email. These calls are longer and go well. All of the emails with needed information from during my drive have come in with proper signatures.  

The check is paid. That includes over tipping the waitress for keeping my drink filled.  

7:08am local time my first US call comes in based off a text sent earlier. It takes 4 minutes. By then the floodgates have opened and the US morning touch point and status updates have begun with relentless frequency.

Along the way I reply to texts on my personal phone from last night to my daughters and the Blonde.

Realize i had forgotten what day it was when texting with Alice the night before on when something was posting. Opting not to bother correcting it since it was not a critical date.

After 14 minute call with a staff member, upon being dialed via face time for a second time by a UK person i wrap the call i’m on and answer the international one.  

7:36 am The caller had never FaceTimed me before and i was bracing for bad news. A friend and peer had resigned a day earlier. It was not public knowledge so that could be the best bad news i had hoped for.  The caller had some serious challenges going on with her area of the business and was working 21 hour days for weeks to make things right. I suspected something there had worsened despite all the efforts.  Professionally speaking she is magnificent.  Instead of bad news it was her smiling face and she was obviously at home; Christmas  decorations in the background.

Her voice cheery, her mood happy and smile contagious. Rather than hello i open with “do you really want to see my face at this hour?”  

with joy she exclaimed  “Not at all but i have something to show you. Follow me!” and while on a video call she took off through her home. Outside on a clear sunny day in England. Outside was her new car. A beautiful German luxury number.  She gave a me a guided tour of it from bumper to bumper, from wheels to roof. All the features, all the interior details.  It was for me both very touching as well as a lot of fun.  She Let me share in her joy and excitement. And in a way that was very personal. We’d continue to chat and just catch up finally getting to business in the last few minutes.  

8:18 am – I text the Temptress for the first time of the day.

The calls don’t stop until i get the Jet shuts its door at 9:07, 12 minutes late.

9:23 am in flight wifi isn’t working, i start writing this post.

11:45ish my plane lands, 20 minutes late but I am surprised by a series of Holiday themed sexy Pictures from the Temptress. They were completely unexpected and a wonderful surprise.

I exchanged texts with her.  Sometimes, often actually i am amazed by the world.  

The Half day thing was a lie…the other half of my day

12:10 Life is like a NiN song.  My God Lives in the back of a limousine. Or a white Escalade as the case may be. The driver is at the door waiting.  My shades slide on. I continue texting from both of my phones and talking for the next 35 minutes.

12:45pm i am 15 minutes late for a meeting where everyone else is stuck in transit.   I’m mobbed at the door of the building by people i haven’t seen in awhile. It is a nice thing, they’re good people, yet I am late so do my best to be relaxed and un hurried. 

My lawyer spots me. She is not literally mine or solely dedicated to me. But unlike how I am with my partners where I share well and easily i am extremely covetous of her. You knew how negotiating a scene helps set boundaries and teach each other about expectations and establish trust.  Try doing what i do with an attorney that you don’t have that bond with. It simply doesn’t work and there are no safe words to call out.

She politely gets me aways from the others and moving toward a private meeting room.  We complete what should have been two hours of prep in 30 minutes.

1:15pm the meeting starts 45 minutes late.  We’re all friends and debate some radical things.  

I am unshockable but a rare case of a number that may become mine shocks the fuck out of me.  No one can tell but i have a rare moment of true doubt and ask myself is it too big if it happens. Moments later past the shock begin asking for data and analyzing what would need to happen before moving forward.  We will spend 3 days on this next month.  After 45 days of actual prep

1:55 i flirt a little with a friend from the last meeting.. It is harmless but she is attractive and well we get on well.  Others arrive and we go back to our professional selves.

2:00 the big group meetings of the day begin.  Most people will be captive for the next four and a half hours.  I don’t make if past the first hour before being pulled out to address more pressing matters.  This in and out occurs for 90 minutes until at 4:15 i flip a hotel room key my lawyer who is and other key senior people.   

After getting to my suite and setting up for the next meeting in a few quick minutes return texts from my personal phone to the Blonde..the Temptress and a former business partner.

2;10 pm i send a picture of the landscape outside to the Temptress.

5;27 the others arrive. We spend the next two hours and nineteen minutes reviewing each and every word on the first 17 pages of a 39 page document with the other party.

I dig in hard on several asks and pick a few fights. One time going too far and essentially making and individual use the business equivalent of a safe word for what i took as an insult of our capabilities.  

A day later we’d go at it hard again over the same point in person. So much so that he was shaking, furious and speechless for nearly and hour and would take another day before being civil outside of direct business negations was possible for him.   It’s the game, nothing personal.  There is a reason I am evil, I could twist Gandhi into a ranting militarized nut job if you’d let with a few well placed words.

Had i not been a dick it could have been better. Had he simply said look we need it for this reason i would have said yes. Instead of asking he tried to twist it, make me the reason we had to do something.  It was a blatant lie and i all but beat him to death with the point.  Additionally I as prepared to use the nuclear option, scuttle the entire agreement and walk away. We agreed based on the real reason it was needed.

7:55 pm I slide into a black Lexus for a short ride over an hour late for a large group dinner.

7:57 the Temptress texts me.  She had a bad day and my heart aches for her a little.

During the ride i open snap chats from the kids and reply having a mixture of 5 simultaneous conversations over three different applications.  

8:05 dinner hasn’t been served yet. In fact appetizers had just started for nearly 90 people.  Most of who had been there on time.  This did not occur because i was late but was poorly communicated the flow of events by the planners. 75 minutes later dinner would finally finish.

We move on to the entertainment portion of the day

10:05 pm i get a good night text and reply.

10:31 pm i arrive back in the suite after sneaking away.  The room is warm, dimly lit with a great view.  The big empty king bed makes me feel lonely despite having not been alone, at all in hours. And having been very connected to friends and loved ones digitally all day.   Still there was a sense of longing, a wanting an individual’s companionship.  I debate on whether or not to share that fact.

10:55 my mind is not going to slow down  at all. I haven’t slept well or much at all in nearly two weeks. I take a sleeping pill for the first time in almost a month.

It works like magic until about 4am the next day.  That day would be longer and run into the following.  That next night I would get less than 3 hours sleep and start work before 4am. Even for me it is extreme.  

The expected End Of the trip

It’s now two days later.  The routine minus the flights was even more demanding than the detailed day.  After a 12 hour day I would take a 45 minute ride (Black Acura for those counting cars). Have one last 90 minute meeting at the airport. Fly two and half hours home.

Get back in the old Honda. Drive to my house in an ice storm arriving by 10pm or so.  And well finish this post and was hoping to sleep, in my own bed, maybe even the entire night.   

There you have it 3 days in the life of Malflic. It is not all  fun and parties or sex and coffee. Sure i can’t do this forever but for now there truly is no rest for the wicked.

How it actually ended

I wrote the previous section literally as my plane was getting ready to land. Instead the world was frozen in Ice in a way far more severe than expected..  The drive to my house would have taken  4=6 hours; assuming the roads didn’t get closed.  The Blonde would book me a hotel by the airport before I was even off the jet bridge. One that i have stayed at often bin the last 30 years but never haven’t had sex at.  Actually I’ve been to an orgy at, several three ways and countless date nights.  this time I was alone.   

After letting everyone know I was safe my clothes were unceremoniously discarded, i’d sleep about 4 hours. Lie awake and watch road conditions and temperature on the news. Take the Shuttle, to the airport drive to my house in only 10 minutes longer than usual. Stopping for breakfast on the way.. everyone at home would still be asleep for two hours after I arrived.   Those hours were spent working.

After thoughts.

This is neither intended to be a brag about how hard I work or to elcit pity.  It is a fairly typical version of my life during busy times. Non busy times I get 4-5 hours of sleep a day which often includes a 30-45 minute nap during take off.

It is not a complaint. As i often say this is a life i have chosen. Lost in the minutia of the work sruff is the beauty; the ability to stay close to friends, lovers, my wife and my kids desite not being with any of them is wonderful.  Many more personal texts go on during  the other things depending on the day.

Spiral Again

I can feel the spiral drawing me in.

Can’t change the dates on the calendar yet again.

One day i’ll hit bottom & simply won’t bounce.

Trying not to destroy things with every last ounce.

 

I’m not smiling, I’m silent, i’m drawing back and wanting to be swept up with sin.

I’m staid and I’m stoic and even if you noticed it’s too late  I won’t let you in.

It all glistens, and sparkles, and dances with joy.

Disconnected, disregarded, a long forgotten toy.

 

Spent and forgotten like the bones of a long ended feast

The darkness I feed it with my addictions and the finest of drinks.

Alone and shaking, sleepless, angry  and cold

Slipping and sliding like on an ice covered road.

 

 

.

Now thst the spiral has drawn me in.

The month and the number haunts things again..

So close to bottom, not certian I’ll bounce.

The monsters are closing and ready to pounce.

 

*****************

 

 

 

 

Friend and Love

 

Friend and Love = Words and Meaning

It never donned on me until the other day that much of the world uses words differently than i do.  It was both an interesting and troubling revelation.  

Take for example “friends”. Apparently to most of the world that means something far more casual than it does to me.  To me it is an indication of someone who is truly important in my world and that i care about all area’s of their life and happiness.

In fact friends are something i consider myself to have very very few of after you remove work related relationships that are held to a different standard .  People in my own personal life that are friends by my fucked up definition are few and far between. Sure there are countless people i know, acquaintances and what have you.

Often if you truly know me you will hear me answer a question “so are you and Jimmy friends” with a non-committal “sure i’ve known Jimmy for 15 years”.  Never saying if we are or are not friends; by my definition.  

Then there is always the “sure we’re close” retort which in my world is a ringing endorsment of their importance…with out saying it.

So if friendship is that complicated then love is even worse. Yet In a way it is easier, most people i consider friends (again outside of professional relationships) i also love, in my own unique way of course.

Of course like every relationship differs then how and what love means to me in terms of each person differs as well. To over simplyfy there are probably three broad categories. Romantic love, love of family, including chosen family, love by proxy. Which means if someone in the first two categories loves a person in the third i become concerned for thst person as well. Clear as mud?

 

 The word love is easy to write, reflect on and confess to here but very hard for me to say.  In fact you may never hear it come out of my mouth for fear of misinterpretation. Except in a generic pop culture “I love so and sos movies”  

The words “i love you” or “I’m in love with you” are (often) too cliche. Too happlily ever after. Too mainstream.  I wear black and paint myself as evil.  Which by conventional standards i very well may be.  Ask the nuns from grade school.  

Instead i will say things like “you know i adore xxx”, “you are very important in my life” etc.  Not the stuff of movie endings, poems, or romance novels.

 

And sometimes i won’t say anything, because i am trying to not make them uncomfortable, compromise their situation, do damage or harm.

Inevitably there are times when I should have told someone i loved them but chose not to. To me that alone is an act of love by not risking them being hurt by others, not further complicating an already complicated situation. The list may and does go on.  

Love is a strange and wonderful thing. For the record being evil is much easier.

Indescribable Pleasure

Indescribable Pleasure

 

I do not relax, I do not get to escape…ever. I do not lose control or just let go. Yet I did. There are those (not so) rare occasions when I want to get lost for a few hours; but lack a companion with the same desires. So it never happens. Yet on a sunny fall day somewhere in a post orgasmic haze I found myself fully clothed and snuggled up on the bed next to her, the warm yellow light of a mid-morning filled the room. She moved and touched the edge of my bicep.

 

She traced up it and over my t shirt…that was a beautiful dark black to match my soul.   I purred with pleasure as she continued on. Nuzzling in closer, just running her fingertips from my low back, across, my lats, touching me so deliciously on the base of my neck, my arms and back again.

 

Now if this was purely about something sexual it would be the part where I take my shirt off. Which I did. It could have become deeply erotic. They were truly touching and powerful moments but not in the way you’d probably expect.

She continued to rub her hands across my warms flesh, and nibble on my neck, steal a kiss from my lips and push in closer. Her focus was on me, on nothing more than being there and caressing me. This sounds odd but it was not anything I had ever expected from a woman again. These type of moments are something so desperately longed for, craved in my most private of thoughts, and needed in ways that would vary to every person.

 

Yet when you are devoid of this type of connection it haunts you, it consumes you, it becomes an addiction to itself. Yet something seemingly so simple is not anything I even bothered to even ask for any more. Sadly requests for this type of attention, any kind of prolonged touch or focus on me in life has become the sole province of those paid to do so.; masseurs, spa treatments, and other luxuries. While wonderful, they are a sad substitution for an attentive lover. They are glorious in their own rite but lack the intimacy of moments like these.

Her lips soft and wet on my neck, her nibbles erotic, her hands tireless. She would ask if I minded lotion. I was the one floating now, drunk on her touch, at peace with in myself. I know I said “yes that would be nice” or something to that effect.

She walked across the room and I watched her, she really does make me happy. There are things about her that I may never quite find the words to say that amaze me.

 

She joked about debating on whether or not warm the lotion up. Which she did, cold lotion would not have been a new thing but it was a gesture of kindness. One that was appreciated.

I melted further and further away from the world with each touch, each movement of her hands, with each passing second.   Fighting back the thought that all too soon it would be over, that I would be leaving. Instead of worrying about the future even if it was only hours away the present was lived in.

 

I felt her petite frame stretch out across my back, her magnificent chest met my flesh as her touch increased. Becoming more sensual. She pressed into and against me, sliding her body against mine.

My foot moved and it donned on me I was still in jeans and wing tips. I thought of speaking up but chose to just stay as is and enjoy what was already amazing. Seconds felt like an eternity in paradise. She tells me our time like this was about an hour long. Honestly the fact I had completely lost track of time, of everything but her and I in those moments actually means more than anything.

As this time ended she offered.   “Thank you for letting me touch you”. Jesus she enjoyed this too. Touching me was not a burden or an obligation. I really had almost forgotten what that felt like. It may not have been conveyed how appreciated she was in those moments.

The day was calling. Soon enough we were in the car. Just talking, easily like two old friends about all sorts of things. After a shopping stop or two we’d head to the beach, strolling past a few homes where each of us mused about one architecture vs another, about the need for us to have a week together. She mentioned wanting to alternating playing, time with friends, and then time on the beach. Listlessly drifting from one activity to the next as it suited us.   I simply smiled and thought about how wonderful it would be to have her next to me for more than a night or two at a time.

We would share lunches and I’d prove my mettle with seafood. In my own way being attentive to her. Someday I’ll cook for her but until then….   We lingered over lunch just in the shade from a bright day with the sea breeze dancing across our skin.

She wound up with my phones in her hand. “Kiss me!” she demanded. “You have to kiss me if you want them back!” I reached for them and she turned away “NO you have to kiss me”. She was being playful. I realized it moments after I kissed her.   Prior to that my OCD got the better of me and like a dog ready to attack was myopically focused on those silly little devices and not her. “Ladies and gentlemen the Stupid man misses the bus AGAIN!” would be the voice over if this day were in a movie.

I kissed her, though not as much or as well as I should have. I should have played back, it never occurred to me in the moment. Later somewhere over Oklahoma I would realize how damaged I’ve become, to miss something so sweet and innocent.

We wondered out over the water, I’d take a call or two but mostly just watched her walk, talked about life, and family and work and just about everything else. Things being complicated of course we both talked about our other relationships. We agreed that we do need to find more time for us. And no sooner than we nodded in agreement it occurred to me this was our first “real” date. Not time to play, or reconnect, or catch up but an actual in earnest date. No D/S, not even sex although she did share a few wonderful idea’s on our walk.

 

Eventually with wing tips in hand, socks removed, and my jeans rolled we strolled up the shoreline. It was a holiday and the beach buzzed with locals but she was all I noticed.

After a time we made our way back towards the car. Longing for an excuse to steal a few more moments I sat on a bench and slowly brushed off the sand and sea water. Replaced my socks and shoes. Took her by the hand for a few steps and begrudlingly  headed toward the parking lot.

 

An hour later I’d be at the airport, she would be stuck in traffic. 8 hours alter I’d arrive home to no fanfare; at least the dog didn’t growl at me. She waited for me text to say all was well and I was safe.

I drifted off to sleep remembering, albeit somewhat sadly now that I was gone a day of seemingly  indescribable pleasure.

Postlude:

Its 18 hours since I’d left her.   Sure there had been conversations (about sports) with a few acquaintances, my Saturday morning ritual of rolling around in the dark with strangers (Yoga). Still before other parts of my weekend ritual began I sat there alone on the couch wondering why I bother to rush home? There I was in a big empty house, which even when not empty everyone chooses to be in a different part of it. No one other than the dog ever bothers to come snuggle up with me on the couch. Despite all the good things I have there sometimes the gaps of seemingly simple things that I have simply stopped asking for feels like a great expanse. In a future Post “Appreciating the Differences” will cover the conversations tied to that.