Tag: story

Funny How We Listen

Everyone who finds it, finds it in their own way. Everyone who expresses it, expresses it in their own way. But you don’t find it until open your heart, and open your mind, and allow your energy to guide you without allowing those social expectations, and preconceived notions of what life is, and what life should be get in the way.

She Said

She said I'm wrong
I said I'm right
She said things are black and white
I said all things can be colored by perspective
She said I have a type
I said my type is people who can love
She said I love too easily
I said love shouldn't be so hard
She said I'm a fixer
I said only for what can be fixed
She said I like to fix people
I said I like to show people how they shine
She said I only love the broken
I said everyone is a little broken
She said I seek out the broken
I said those that need me find me
She said I'll never be happy
I said my happiness grows when others are happy
She said things will never be
I said seeds don't grow if you don't give them water
She said she can't
I said she decided she won't
She said it's impossible
I said she doesn't see the possibilities
She said she is broken
I said everyone is a little broken
She said she is tired
I said sleep and look forward to tomorrow
She said she's afraid
I said she has to face her fears
She said she loves me
I said I love her too
She said I love too easily
I said love shouldn't be so hard

Thank You

“Yes, I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” – Oscar Wilde

My birthday was Monday, October 16th. Thank you to everyone who took the time to send your well wishes, and to answer back to many of you: Yes, I had a great day. I spent the first half of my day working on a movie, and the second half baking my traditional lasagna, and pumpkin pies, and enjoying it all with my children, my mother, and her husband, and the woman who helps me see the beauty in the world when our world seems to be lacking it.

And to those of you who wished me a happy birthday on Tuesday: all good! If you know me, you know how frequently I'm late for things, so I am far from qualified to hold that against anyone.

I share my birth date of October 16th with Oscar Wilde, the famous, and some would say, infamous author, playwright, and poet. Like many artists who are ahead of their time, the true scope of Wilde's fame didn't become realized until after his death in 1900. Among a controversial life, Wilde disrupted the Victorian societies of his time with brilliant stories such as The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Importance of Being Earnest, and An Ideal Husband. Stories which examined in their time societal morals, norms, hierarchies, and the hypocrisies woven throughout them. Although these stories were written well over a century ago, if written today they would be just as timely, but perhaps less controversial.

Birthdays are often a moment where we pause, and reflect on life. It seems as though most people look upon this reflection in judgment of themselves; their regrets, their mistakes, what they want to change going forward. Like the annual practice of “New Year's Resolutions,” there is a statement of ,“I begin truly living today!” that seems to take place for many. I have never sought to live an ordinary life, I have only sought to live fully. In my past I have let many things prevent me from doing so, but as I've grown, and matured, I find fewer obstacles within myself, fewer inhibitions, fewer reasons to not take risks.

Fewer reasons to not see the good that is all around me, and take in as much of it as I can.

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” – Oscar Wilde

My reflection is not one of regrets. My life, like every life, has been filled with moments of wonder, and moments of despair. I have struggled, succeeded, failed, risked, lost, and continue to pull myself back to my feet, and push forward. I know I have never been perfect, but I cannot change my past self. I accept who I am, who I once was, and all of the growing that has occurred in between. I continue to work diligently to forgive myself for those imperfections, and sometimes the specters of past mistakes still haunt my mortal consciousness, and scream from their subconscious prisons. But where their voices are silent, I focus on living in the moment, and loving everyone in my life as deeply as I am capable.

Everyone that has entered my life, and that includes the many who have only been temporary tenants of my time, and energy, have taught me valuable lessons about myself, and how I create the world I live in. For that, I am grateful to everyone. And as a life lived, much the same as Mr. Wilde's, I intend to continue living mine to the fullest, through my passions, my love, my art, and my creativity, challenging the things that we accept in our collective lives, and hopefully, seeing the world change for the better before my time here is done.

My growth as a person continues. For my children, I will always strive to be a better father, a better guide, a better mentor, and the lighthearted, loving balance they need to deal with the grim seriousness that often envelopes us in our society.

For my love, and my inspiration, Cortney, I will always strive to be the partner that she deserves, give her the best parts of me, and do my best to reflect how she inspires me, and brings beauty into my world. As I once told her, she is both the Sun, and the Moon – shining a light to help others find their way, and reflecting the light of others when they cannot see how they also shine. For me, she is all of this, and more.

“You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.” -- Oscar Wilde

What more can be said? I am looking forward to our every adventure together!

Many thanks, again, to all of you for your warm wishes.

It’s Not A Tomb…. Or…

Sitting in my office with the lights off, music playing, quietly working. A woman from another office walks in and announces, "My gawd, it's like a tomb in here!" as she flips on lights.

My response?

"But it's MY tomb, not yours. Please turn those off."

She turns off the lights, and leaves in a huff.

Ok, seriously, if I'm going to be here at this job every day while it slowly kills me, let me set up my tomb the way I want it.

K? Thx.

The Ouch of Life

Back in January, right after filming "Bum Fit" for Welcome To Lovejoy, I woke up the following Monday with acute pain in my right knee. Now, that in itself isn't unusual, but it was significantly more painful than I had felt since I injured it playing sports in 8th grade. Of course, being a man I shrugged it off, and just fought through the pain for the day, assuming I could walk it off, and it would get better.

But it didn't get better.

And within a week, the pain had shifted to my hip, and my left knee. Then to my ankles. And after two weeks of ankle pain, my ankles, and feet began to swell, while my wrists, and elbows began to feel a very similar pain. I'm stubborn. Even at this point I hesitated to go to the doctor, but at the urging of my kids, and my girlfriend, and several friends, I relented. A full day of physical exams, blood work, and x-rays revealed nothing.

I continued to experience the pain, but was treating the swelling in my ankles. I decided to go back to seeing a chiropractor regularly. Julie discussed my situation, and mentioned she has seen many similar cases. Some she treated successfully, and others were a bit more challenging. We began twice-a-week sessions to see if we could correct whatever it is that was going on.

I missed about two straight months of going to the gym. I was struggling to get up in the morning due to the pain. Stairs were ugly, but I forced myself to take them at work. Walking was difficult; running nearly impossible. But with Julie's help, I started seeing improvements within a couple of weeks. It's amazing how much better I feel now that vertebrae actually move noticeably better in my neck, and back. Things crack when I move again, which many might not consider a good thing, but it means that I at least have better mobility in the joints. I realized that a while ago, all of that cracking stopped. Things were seizing up. Pressure was building on the nerves of my central nervous system. Small aches, and pains should have been my warning, but I ignored them, and as I usually do, performed through them, regardless of what I needed to do.

I can run again now. It feels so good. I'm back to a semi-normal (normal for me) gym routine, and making progress toward my goals. I put on about ten pounds just from not being able to move well, and now I'm dropping that weight. I have a goal of 30 more.

But with soccer season upon me again, I know I can run with the kids. Things aren't back to the right strength, and endurance yet, but I'm making good progress.

The recognition here needs to be that I cannot ignore a single part of my body as I get older. I especially have to take care of the control centers that manage the whole thing. Back issues, even when they don't seem like back issues, can cause so much grief....

The Gift

Inside, Breanna crouched in complete darkness. The box was only big enough for her to crouch, or kneel. The walls only gave her slightly more room than her hips and shoulders required. She felt slightly uncomfortable, and a little foolish. As she attempted to see through the darkness, her vision was greeted with emptiness. Not a single detail could be seen….

Stepping Out

The tight leather straps of the harness surrounding her body cut roughly against her skin as he slipped his hand under the crossing straps that sat snug on her back. Sierrah could feel the coarse fibers of the rope he was now threading through the metal ring that brought the straps to a center point between her shoulder blades like the lair of a monstrous spider in the middle of a crude web. He pulled the rope tight, causing the harness to dig deeply into her shoulders, and neck, while it squeezed her ribs, and pinched her exposed breasts. The new tightness around her breasts made her more aware of the sensation of the cool sheets touching her skin, and her nipples responded with erect excitement.

“Lift your ass higher,” he commanded with a breathy whisper.

Sierrah pushed herself to get closer to the mattress her body was already pressed against. Turning her head to breathe past the sheets she was now pressing her face into, she tried to straighten her knees a bit more to meet his demand.

The cold metal suddenly pressed between her ass cheeks caused her to take in a sharp breath.

“Breathe out, little girl. You need to relax,” he suggested.

With a long exhale, she tried to remember how she felt the first time her ass was penetrated, and the deep breathing exercise he had her work on for what seemed like hours before he deemed her to be ready for that new exploration.

Inhale deeply, and count slowly to five… exhale fully, and count slowly to seven. “Focus on the breathing,” she silently reminded herself. As she exhaled for the second time, he pressed the metal ball of the hook past the opening of her ass. It slid in smoothly, but the penetration made her skip a breath, and lose focus. He slowly pushed it further, past the clenched muscles that she was trying to relax. The slight burning sensation of the cold metal pushing into her sensitive ass sent a chill up her back. Her pussy grew even more wet with anticipation.

He abruptly pulled the rope affixed to her harness, and forced her up onto her hands with an arched back. The rope was then quickly secured to the looped end of the hook that was now firmly, and deeply within her. She could no longer bend forward. This arched position, she knew, was how he wanted to take her.

Sierrah felt the tip of his cock slide against her pussy as her lover spread her legs open a little further to get a position behind her. He pressed his hips up against her bottom; his pelvis putting pressure on the curve of the hook, pressing it deeper still. Instinctively she arched her back more to relieve the pressure. The tug of the rope now had the harness tightly around her breasts. They could no longer rest comfortably, and were forced into a high position. The pressure made them feel full, and almost overwhelmingly sensitive. She felt his hand reach around her waist to find his cock, and he guided it slowly into her. She audibly gasped as the feeling of being filled a second time sent waves of electricity through her stomach, her erect breasts, and up her neck. He pressed his cock deeply into her, as he grabbed her hair, and pulled her head back toward him for more control.

Sierrah moaned with his thrust, and whispered, “I fucking love you….”

A loud, rapidly beeping chime split the night air, and brought her concentration back to where she was.

Sierrah swayed from the change of inertia as the city bus came to another grinding halt; its air-brakes moaning with the displeasure of being cast through the rain dampened streets on a cold, October evening. Passengers lethargically stood from their seats, and made their way to the squeaking exit door as the caution chime rang loudly through the mostly empty bus. As the last passenger took his half-leap from the high stair, down to the street, the door squealed closed once again, the chime silenced, and the diesel engine revved as the bus slowly pulled away heading to the next stop.

Sierrah’s stop.

She tugged uncomfortably at her clothing as she adjusted the straps of her purse securely over her shoulder. Her purse strap never sat right on Fridays, and the sudden early darkness of the dank evening was making her even more twitchy. The leather, and metal links pressing against her body felt as if they were burrowing into the holes in her skin. The holes, she was sure the leather created by the end of every Friday, but the holes were never there. Just indents in her skin, where the tight fitting straps would set, and vague half-circles where the links would press into her as she moved, and bent during her day.

The darkness of the night reflected her own image back to her from the window in the brightly illuminated bus interior. She studied her face unconsciously. Her discrete, tan knitted hat pulled down tightly, masking her dirty-blonde curls, which escaped to her coat collar. She had already become pale with the season change, and her bright green eyes stood out from her whitened skin.

“I’m hideous…” she mumbled to herself, barely moving her lips, and in a voice only she could hear.

Once again, the bus began to slow, and the familiar moaning of the brakes resounded from beneath her seat. Sierrah readied herself to make a hasty exit, clutching her purse, and her work bag tightly. She never truly felt at ease in public places. She stood before the bus came to a complete stop, and steadied herself from the motion using the cold, chromed, support pole by the exit stairs.

The bus finally stopped, and the caution chime once again pierced the air, and drowned out the sounds of passengers shuffling to collect their possessions, get to their feet, and make their way to the exit door. Sierrah was already on the stairs when the doors announced their movement with a shriek.

“Be careful, ma’am. Have a good evening,” the bus driver called after her.

“You too,” she replied as she stepped off the stairs into the misty night air. She quickly moved her feet in the direction of her apartment. She knew Jeff would be home soon, and he wasn’t to be kept waiting. Moreso, tonight, her neck hair was standing on end, more than usual. Her general uneasy feeling was strong.

The caution chime faded into the night, and was muffled to silence by the closing of the bus doors, and growling of the engine as the bus roared away from the stop. Sierrah was already around the first corner when the bus passed behind her, and walking faster with each step. Public transportation often leaves her normal schedule askew, and she started to realize this was actually going to be cutting it close.

Light from the foyer of her apartment building flooded out on the sidewalk to greet her approach. She swung open the outside door, and stepped into the building. Pulling her keys from her pocket, she sorted through the ring to find her mailbox key. The hinge-spring of the box door squeaked as she opened the door.


“How unusual,” she thought. She allowed the mailbox door to snap shut. She removed her key, and continued looking for the key to the inside entry door.

She climbed the stairs to the second landing, while seeking her apartment door key on the ring that has grown heavy with keys. She briefly thought that her life used to involve far fewer keys, and locks, than it does now. Fewer controls. For better, or for worse, the only time she feels safe are when she is behind those locks, and compelled to those controls.

Her apartment door was in sight when she realized it was slightly open, and light was shinning through the crack between the door, and door frame, extending like a spotlight across the hallway floor. Cautiously she approached the door, gripping her keys in a fist so they protruded between her fingers. Her nerves crept up as quickly on her as she crept up on the door. As she got closer, she could hear music emanating from the opening in the door. The smells of cooking onions, and spices relaxed her fright, and she nudged the door open nonchalantly as her posture melted.

“Jeff, why are you home so early?” she asked.

“Hey, babe!” Jeff returned as a greeting, “just getting a start on dinner. Why are you running behind?”

“The bus…” she answered as her thoughts trailed off, and she dropped her purse, work bag, and coat on the nearby chair. She started pulling on her harnesses, trying to relieve the pressure the straps were putting on her shoulders, but realizing doing so only caused them to put pressure on her breasts, or to cut into her armpits, or ribs.

She paused, staring at her partner in the kitchen. He turned off the stove burner, and took off his apron.

“Well, I thought I’d get dinner taken care of so you wouldn’t have to worry about the extra work. Hopefully that means you’ll have a little more energy later?”

Jeff walked over to Sierrah, and put his arms around her. He leaned into her, and kissed her cheek gently. Sierrah remained standing in place, her posture, and mannerisms in a literal slouch. He hugged her a little tighter, and she still didn’t raise her arms to hug him back.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her face.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

Sierrah snapped out of her trance with a shake of her head.

“Oh, no. I’m… I’m just tired. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, long day.” Jeff smiled at her, and turned his attention back to the kitchen.

“Do you mind if I take off this harness?” Sierrah asked with a tone of annoyance. “It’s really digging into my shoulders.”

Jeff paused for a moment, and put two plates on the counter. Without turning toward Sierrah, he asked openly, “So, the harness is bothering you, huh?”

“Yes.” she replied dryly.

Jeff turned away from the counter, and walked back into the living room. He stopped in front of Sierrah, took her by the elbow, and gently coaxed her to turn around with her back to him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, by her neck, and began to massage her shoulders.

“Now, baby girl, tell me that feeling the harness underneath your clothes didn’t have you thinking about me all day….”

“It did,” she admitted, “it always does.”

“So you understand why Friday’s are the day to wear it, right?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. You’ve explained it. It worked well.” she responded as she began to relax under his touch, and felt the tingling electricity begin again in her belly.

“Good. I knew it would. And that feeling you get, knowing you’re wearing something so sexy, so hard, under your work clothes…” he breathed into her ear as he brushed her hair back from her shoulder, and began kissing her neck.

Sierrah moaned in agreement. Instinctively, she tilted her head to allow his mouth better access to her skin, and began to melt into relaxation. Unconsciously she found her hands reaching up on her own body, and pressing against her breasts as her now trembling fingers fumbled for the buttons of her blouse.

Jeff continued kissing her neck, while reaching down to unzip the back of her tweed skirt. With a subtle shimmy of her hips, the heavy fabric skirt dropped to the floor, and pooled at her ankles. Beneath her modest dress, a black lace thong invited his desires, and imagination to wander.

Sierrah turned to her lover, stepping out of skirt surrounding her ankles, and in a graceful motion, slipped the blouse off of her body, and let it hang on her arms behind her. Her skin showed red impressions where the leather harness she had been wearing all day was cinched to her. Jeff looped his index fingers beneath the shoulder straps of the harness, and ran his fingers beneath the leather, and her skin, allowing her skin to breathe momentarily. He continued, hooking his fingers under the straps that surrounded the sides of her breasts, and paused.

Their eyes locked in a fiery gaze, and simultaneously, their bodies pulsed with a passionate energy that sent waves of arousal through them. Jeff abruptly pulled her by the harness straps closer to him, and embraced her in a deep, passionate kiss. Their accelerated breaths synced, as their tongues danced, and hands grasped at each other, not wanting to let go of the moment.

She quickly moved to unbuttoning Jeff’s shirt, but was slowed by her blouse still clinging tightly to her wrists. Without breaking their kiss, he took over the task of removing his shirt, while her hands moved downward to his belt. She pulled at the leather loop with one hand, while taking a moment to caress, and enjoy the feeling of his erection through the denim of his jeans. She squeezed his cock, while clumsily working on unbuckling his belt. Jeff pulled away from their kiss. He breathed a quick, but deep breath, and their eyes locked again. Sierrah put both hands to work on undressing him. Within seconds, she was peeling his jeans down his legs, and fell to the floor on her knees, face-to-face with his bulging erection.

Jeff put his hands through her hair, as she steadied his cock with one hand, and gently kissed the tip.

He lifted her chin so their eyes met once more. while keeping one hand firmly rooted in her dirty blond curls. Her green eyes were radiant in the dim incandescent light.

“I love you,” he said.

Sierrah nodded. “I love you, too.” she replied.

“You’re beautiful. So beautiful, my love.” he assured her.

Sierrah, pulled her chin from his hand, and cast her gaze to the floor.

“You are beautiful.” he repeated. She looked back up at him, and without a response, consumed his cock in her watering mouth. A shiver ran up his back, and he moaned deeply with the sensation of her lips, and tongue teasing him.

Gripping the base of his cock tightly, Sierrah continued working on him with her mouth. Pausing to catch her breath, she ran her tongue down the length of his shaft, and to his tightening balls. She slowly pulled the skin of his sack between her lips, and tugged on it a little, while stroking his shaft. Pulling him closer to her, she took one of his balls gently into her mouth, and rolled her tongue over it in swirls, before leaning back, and focusing her attention on his cock once again.

Jeff leaned over her while she sucked on him, grabbing the bulk of her blouse from behind her, and pulling it over her head. She allowed her hands to follow. He grasped the blouse near her wrists, pulling it tightly across her neck, and pushing her back against the seat of the sofa behind her. Pinning her there, with the tight fabric limiting her breath, and in full control of her hands, he pushed his cock back into her mouth, deeper than she had been taking it, and began to thrust forcefully into her; deep enough that her nose was pressed against his abdomen, and she began to choke. He withdrew, and let her catch her breath for a second, before plunging his cock back into her waiting mouth.

Sierrah could feel the wetness begin to soak through her black lace thong.

He pushed deep, and held it again. Sierrah struggled against his force, coughing past the cock filling her mouth.

He withdrew, and pulled the blouse from her throat. She gasped deeply for her breath, as he roughly pulled her to her feet by her blouse, and arms. Quickly, he spun her around, while pulling the blouse back over her head, bring her hands behind her back. He pushed her forward onto the sofa, on her knees, her face pressed into the seat-back before she was able to lift her head and get above it.

Jeff twisted the material of the blouse, and bound her hands tightly in it. He held her hands securely, and pushed her legs apart to widen her kneeling stance. He leaned in close to her ear, and smacked her square on the clit with a cupped hand.

Sierrah yelped a little with the shock of the strike.
“This is my beautiful pussy, isn’t it?” Jeff growled.

“Yes….” she quietly replied.

He smacked her on the clit once more. She recoiled from the shock.

“Yes, what?” he demanded.

“Yes.. yes, sir!” Sierrah responded with a louder voice.

“Good girl.” he assured her, and then slapped her right butt cheek hard with an open palm. She drew a sharp breath with the blow.

“So, you say you don’t want to wear your harness anymore”? Jeff inquired.

“No, it just get’s.. Uncomfortable.”

He smacked her left cheek. She sucked in air through her teeth.

“If it was comfortable you wouldn’t notice it all day, would you?”

He smacked her right cheek, harder than the first time.

Sierrah gritted out a response of, “No, sir.”

He smacked her left cheek, and then the right, and then the left again. Jeff alternated slaps to each of her cheeks until the creamy white flesh of her bottom was glowing a bright pink. With each smack, Sierrah recoiled, and squirmed a bit more. Tears welled in her eyes from the sting, and she bit into the fabric of the sofa to muffle her cries.

Jeff paused, and she turned her head to catch her breath.

He grabbed the waistband of her panties, and pulled them down over her thighs. They glistened with the wetness they had absorbed, showing how much wetter she had become as he became more forceful.

He moistened his fingers with her dripping wetness, and began to massage her clit. Her back arched with this new, more pleasing sensation, and she moaned with delight.

“It’s not always pain, right, baby girl?”

She exhaled, and moaned through a response of, “No, sir.”

“But you love both, don’t you, baby girl?” he asked with noticeable smugness.

“Yes….” she paused with a tremble, “Yes.. sir.”

“So, now what do you want, baby girl?”

“I want you to fuck me, please.”

“Yeah? You want my cock inside your pussy?”

“Oh… “ she stammered as her body quivered with ballooning pleasure, “Yes… yes, please sir. I want your cock in my pussy.”

Jeff pulled her back slightly by her hands, and stood between her feet. He teased the entrance to her pussy with is throbbing cock. She moaned, half in pleasure, and half in the desire, and impatience to have him within her.

Then at once, he pushed hard against her wet opening, and slipped deep inside of her wanting, and readied pussy. She moaned loudly with the pleasing sensation of being filled, while he pressed his hips tightly against the softness, and heat of her bottom.

Jeff reached forward, and grabbed Sierrah’s hair, pulling her head back toward him, and pushing himself deeper within her. She moaned loudly, feeling his cock pressing hard against her cervix, and rubbing tightly on her G-spot. The arch practically forced him to maintain the most pleasing contact, as he began to thrust rapidly. He let go of her hair, and moved his grip to the center buckle on the back of her harness. The leather, pulled tightly into her shoulders, squeezing her breasts within the front straps of the harness. Her erect nipples tingled, and her tummy began to tighten with the building sensations of pleasure within her.

He gathered more of the leather in his grip, and pulled Sierrah back harder to him. The harness tightened across her body, making every nerve come alive. His hips repeatedly met her bottom with rhythmic slaps, and as he fucked her harder, he felt his orgasm building.

“Please….” she whimpered, almost begging, “please, sir… I need… to… come.” she spoke between breaths, and the waves of pleasure now overcoming her body. “Please, sir? May I come?”

“You want to come, baby girl? You need to? Is it overwhelming?” He demanded.

Sierrah gasped at her own words. “Oh god… oh, yes… I don’t know if I can stop it. You… feel… so good.”

“No,” he stated in a short, commanding tone. “No, you cannot come yet. You have to wait until I come.”

She moaned a disapproval to his sentence of torture. She was sure she would not be able to hold off. Every thrust of his cock, pressing, and rubbing inside of her pussy was sending new waves of pleasure across her body. Her leg muscles began to quiver, and weaken. She attempted to clench every inch of her body to hold off her desperate need to come.

Jeff was reaching his breaking point. His rapid breathing matched his lover’s pace, and he felt his own orgasm was inevitable. His shaft swelled with the building fluid, and his body tightened as he struggled to control his own pace, distracted by the overwhelming sensations enveloping him. Moans began to accompany his thrusts. His fists wrung on their grips harder.

“I’m going to come, baby,” he announced to Sierrah. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, please, sir. Please come for me.” she replied, already allowing herself to sink into the waves of her own orgasm. She pulled against how he was holding her as her legs, and back stiffened as her orgasm released. She groaned, long, and loudly, as Jeff’s thrusts slowed. He matched her groan, as his orgasmic spasms emptied his cock inside of her. Sierrah could feel her pussy filling with his fluids, surrounding the cock still filling, and throbbing inside of her. Their sex fluids began running down her clit, and through the hair of her mound.

Her whole body trembled with the last waves of orgasm, and her now foggy mind was barely aware of her surroundings. The sensations overwhelmed her senses. Jeff enjoyed his last few, slow thrusts inside of her luxurious pussy, and then withdrew from her. His ejaculate splashed out of her, and splattered on the sofa on top of the wet spots caused by Sierrah’s arousal.

Jeff flipped her onto her bottom, trapping her hands beneath her. He climbed up on her, and offered her his cock. She willingly, and almost unconsciously took it into her mouth, and sucked him clean of their combined juices.

They both purred in a post-orgasmic haze. Jeff pulled away, leaned down, brushed Sierrah’s hair back, and kissed her forehead.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

Sierrah acknowledged him with a subtle sigh, and a nod.

Jeff rolled off of her, and walked to the bedroom without a word. Sierrah sat with her hands still tangled in her blouse behind her, trying to collect herself, and come back to a sense of reality. She considered for a moment how insensitive it was for Jeff to just walk away, and a sense of annoyance caused her to start wrestling with her blouse behind her back, in an attempt to free her hands.
Sierrah squirmed with more urgency when she saw Jeff returning to the room carrying a bottle of lubricant, and her cordless Hitachi.

“No escaping your bonds, young lady. I’m not done with you.”

“No! It’s ok, I’m good!” she protested, wide-eyed, and concerned.

Jeff kneeled beside her, and responded, “You’re good when I decide you’re good. That’s the way this is done, right?”

She hesitated, as she stilled, and their eyes locked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, spread your legs for me,” he ordered her as he popped the cap of the lubricant, and poured it generously on his hand.

Sierrah spread her knees, bit her lower lip, and sucked in a breath of nervous anticipation. Jeff massaged the lubricant on to her exposed, and swollen pussy. As he rubbed across the length of her slit, he quickly slid two fingers inside of her, and pulled up behind her pubic bone. Simultaneously, Sierrah gasped, and moaned. She closed her eyes, and allowed her head to tilt back. She wanted to protest. She knew this would be overwhelming, and maybe even too much to handle, but at the same time, it was a new sensation of pleasure, and she wanted more.

The Hitachi clicked on, and the sound sent a shock through her. When the vibrating head pressed against her clit, that shock turned into a tremor.

Jeff was pressing the machine against her with force. She squirmed, and climbed higher on the couch as if she could escape it, but she knew he would not let her escape. The sudden shock of the vibrator distracted her from the fact her lover was now furiously massaging her G-Spot with his well lubricated fingers. The combination of lube, come, and her own juices made a practically frictionless environment inside of her, and the motion of his hand was driving her tremoring body to Earthquake levels.

Her eyes rolled back. She clenched her entire being, and began to unconsciously moan with every exhale.

“Does that feel good, baby girl?” Jeff asked slyly.

All Sierrah could do was nod rapidly, and moan a, “Uh-huh,” in response.

And then it hit her: the sensation that her tummy was filling. An urgent feeling, as if she would explode. Jeff began sliding his fingers in, and out of her at a furious pace. He clicked the wand to its highest setting.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god….” was the only response Sierrah could muster, before stating, “I’m going to come. God, I’m going to come!”

“Come for me, baby….” Jeff commanded in a raspy, seductive whisper. “Come for me.”

With a scream, Sierrah’s body began to convulse in an overwhelming orgasmic rhythmn. Watery fluid began soaking Jeff’s hand. He stroked within her even faster than before, then without warning, pulled his hand out of her pussy. In an unconscious haze of pleasure, Sierrah instinctively thrust her hips up toward the vibrating wand, and let a burst of ejacluation spray from her pussy. With the wand still stimulating her clit, the spray continued for several pulses, as she writhed in uncontrolled ecstasy. When the final squirts of fluid ran down her legs, to her ass, she collapsed, folding in on herself on the couch. Still convulsing with the tremors of orgasm, she pulled her legs up to her chest, and curled up resting her head on Jeff’s lap.

Jeff just smiled, looking at his spent lover, and the mess she just made on the sofa, and the floor. He clicked off the wand, put it down behind him, and began to lovingly stroke Sierrah’s hair.

Her trembles were subsiding, but she was still lost in a haze.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” she managed to respond between gasps for new breath.

“If you thought that was good,” he began, “just wait until you taste dinner.”

Sierrah laughed a little, and smiled as she curled up tighter to her lover.


Swiftly the sun cast a morning glow
First red, then silver and gold, reflecting off the suffocating snow
And the blue that will always follow
Like the blue of her eyes when she gives me that look
The look that says the million things that she can’t bring her lips to allow
Words unspoken
But her eyes
Oh, those eyes
The eyes that make my heart pound like a drum
Eyes that light a fire inside
Eyes that make my spirit feel alive
And I see her eyes, and her smile, everywhere I go
How the sun brings the majesty of our world to life in the morning
She brings my soul to life without warning

And I make her morning tea
Before the sun can even greet me
While she readies herself for the coming day
I dread, I always dread how much time we spend away
Wishing only to spend more time
Limbs entwined
Under soft sheets that keep us warm
And I get to look into those eyes
Sleepy eyes, such sleepy eyes
Consuming my desire
Igniting my fire
As Sunday mornings bless us to remain
The week pulls us from this embrace, when anxieties fuel my pain

But again, I’ll make her morning tea
Our ritual to start the day
Warm, comforting, to remind her in our time away
To remind her of the feelings that guides these words
Feeling within her soul, but words she cannot say
For with each morning, lost from her lips, when she cannot stay

Her scent is left behind
Left in my room, alone in my room, left to remind
While spiders crawl in my mind
Thoughts of everything left behind

Still slowly we move
Through the rapids of the waters we row
Keeping our pasts tightly in tow
While filling our paths with the new seeds that we sow
Can the seeds take root while we slowly navigate such turbulent waters,
Flowing over rock and ridge?
A life that consumes, and suffocates
Like the winter snow
A feeling that we both know
All too well, these feelings we do know
While we navigate the raging waters before us, unsure of where they go

But patience

Patience is the medicine I take
To help in those moments when our fears awake
In those moments when dreams seem possible
But our fears tell us no
When our pasts claw away at our trust
And these soft, clay beginnings quiver and quake
And will wear away
In the raging waters, and suffocating snow
The things we’re more familiar with
The past, the lives, the trials we both know

Then there is the way she looks at me
Often in the quiet of the evening, when we seek refuge from our day apart
On the couch, close and in comfort
With a warm blanket, and mugs of tea, and a dog snoring happily
Relieved to have us both together
On the couch, close and in comfort
In her mind, without complicated thought or judgement
Just the way it should be

And there is the way she looks at me
When I feel her hand seeking mine
Sliding slyly across my arm until she finds
And she tips her head to my shoulder, pulling me just a little closer
Just a little bit closer
Pulling the blanket closer to her chin
Just a little bit closer
And she closes her eyes, worn and weary from the day
And there she will stay
No more time away
Close and in comfort
Until the morning sun again shows me the color of her eyes
In the color of the skies
After I’ve made her tea
And she begins her day
And once again, she will go away
Leaving me with my thoughts, crawling like spiders in my mind
Leaving the words she could not speak
Leaving all this behind

Even in the blue of the skies
In the blue of her eyes
And the song in her heart
Her voice in my ears
The song I long to hear
On nights alone when my mind isn’t clear
And I think more about her cup of tea
And where it might leave me

Counting Time

The challenge at times isn't writing, but finding words.

To create something that not only releases the demons from within myself, but exorcises the demons from the few people who read my work and take it seriously. I write primarily as an expression of self; to validate to myself that what I am feeling is real. Part of that validation of course is response from those that read my writing, and relating. Finding out that they have also felt this way, have experienced similar events, and that none of us are alone.

Life takes a lot of turns as we travel our paths. Having someone to travel with in a near symbiosis, sharing the good times and bad, providing mutual support in life, taking ownership of each other's dreams... isn't that the ideal we seek? But an ideal obviously so rarely realized.

In order to find such a partnership, one must open their hearts and minds to others. Unfortunately, that often leads to pain, and heartache. Pain, and heartache lead to closed hearts, and distrust. Closed hearts, and distrusting minds cannot be open to exploring the possibilities of such a symbiosis. Here, these constructs fail. How can you find a partner, even when you put your heart out there if those you seek have closed off their hearts, and are unwilling to trust?

And this is where life leads. You round that next corner on to a new path, and find it strewn with rocks, and debris. You travel this rocky road hoping to make it smoother, but you find that you cannot unless the one you're traveling with helps you clear the way. When they don't you give up, and move on to the next path only to find even more rocks, and debris. It becomes a repeating pattern until you realize that you're so tired of the rocky roads that you're unconsciously laying down your own rocks before you even get to that next path.

Wacky metaphor? Perhaps. It's the way my mind works when I'm looking for words. But can you relate? Have you been down those rocky roads? Have you traveled in the uneven ruts, and mud left by someone who took this path before you? Have you looked at your partner and said, "Pick up your rocks," while you keep leaving more on the path anyway?

How do you clean the slate? How do you empty your heart of the prejudices built on those past experiences, and learn how to trust again? How do you step to the side of the path, examine all the rocks together, and choose to either move them together, or simply travel despite them?

Tough questions, right? If I knew the answer, I would probably be living a much different life right now. Sometimes you can't help how someone else responds to your rocks, or even their own. All you can help is how you respond, but it takes a ton of self-awareness to be able to say, "Yes, these are my rocks. I will move them for you if you help me. If we stumble over one, we can get back up and either be past it, or push it aside, but we don't need to keep tripping over the same rocks over and over again."

Slow your travel.

Examine the rocks.

I bet a lot of them are your own. Admit it, and own them. Eventually you'll learn that those rocks can be pounded into the smaller stones that you can use to pave your path, and smooth your ride.