I’m still looking at you.
not the first…
Dear Gentle Sir,
I loved a man who was afraid of the Possible – the enormity of it. With me, he began to experience himself in his truest dimensions, that is, until he couldn’t bear it. So, he blamed me for his growing fear. He became afraid of me, not realizing it had nothing to do with me; I simply showed up and held up a mirror. He looked. He saw. He chose another – as is his wont. He prefers that which keeps him, contains him, controls him.
But even now, it is still in him – all that is Possible.
And it still has nothing to do with me.
These days, he tells himself things are great, that he is in a better place than ever before but he’s a step beside where he was before me: he is still small; he remains secretly, deeply afraid of the enormity of himself, of his own Light. He is happiest when he can hide.
Where once there was love, there now lives insight and a kind of wounded wisdom. Every time I kiss you, I wonder if you will (again), like him, take your turn and blame me for your fear? Or will you focus on my nipples, my glowing clit, and hot moans… hoping to drown out the terrifying call of what is Possible within you? Of the choices you are too afraid to make?
Truth is, it won’t be the first time.
I imagine you won’t try to be the last.
If I’m still here, that is.
Thoughtfully Yours,
Lola xo
joy to your world…
as you wish…
You tie me up, tenderly but firmly; first my wrists then my ankles. We do not speak. The lights are dim, my curves and your contours dance with candlelit shadows. I watch you and you are beautiful: the muscles in your torso and arms bunch and lengthen as you prepare me. I am calm. I trust you. We want to be here together. Alone.
You are gentle yet insistent.
My hips buck the air, seeking out your hunger.
You exhaust your tongue and jaw muscles from eating me out.
My nails want to scratch your back each time I cry out.
You use up the batteries in my vibrator.
My pussy juices up your hands, your forearms, your chest, your face, and glorious cock.
You dip your fingers in as deep as they can go and ask me if I want more.
My head thrashes, my limbs strain to spread wider for you.
You give yourself permission.
My pussy throbs for days from the pounding you give me.
You please me simply because you love pleasing me.
My arms finally free, you lie breathless in my arms.
You tell me there’s no other place you’d rather be
and in that moment
I believe you.
