A short little story I wrote years and years ago.
Man, if that truck driver wasn’t already dead, I’d really let him have it. Screw around with my Saturday night…just not okay. What am I supposed to do now? Hmm, maybe I could go ahead and find Paul. That would really blow his mind. I don’t know if it will work but hey, I don’t have anything else to do. He should be waiting for me at his apartment.
Would you look at that? He’s all pissed off cause I’m late. Man, if he only knew. Now, how am I gonna get him to stay and how the hell am I gonna get his clothes off? Well, let’s just see how far I can take this and if it’ll work. Following him around the room as he’s pacing, I try running a fingernail down his spine. Whoa, did that make him jump or what? Since that worked, this could be really fun.
Let’s see if I can get his shirt off. One button at a time. He’s freaking out. A gentle lick as I finish unbuttoning his shirt. Oh boy, he’s panting now. I wonder if it’s fear, or if he’s turned on, or a combination?
Mmm, I just love the way his body glistens when he sweats. Makes me want to lick more. Oops, he doesn’t seem to be taking this well. Too bad, I’m horny. Let’s try crowding him over to the couch. Wow, that was easier than I thought it would be. He’s all sprawled out for me. Yeah, his eyes are looking a little freaked out but I’ll make up for it.
All that yummy chest, tastes so good. Nibble on this hard little nipple. Ooh, he liked that. He’s moaning. Maybe he’s been without as long as I have.
I can’t help giggling at his reactions as I slowly reach for his belt. I just love when a man’s belt comes undone. It’s like the final barrier, the last surrender. Oh, he’s got a great little bellybutton to lick and suck on while I get his pants off. Oh god, he’s so yummy looking…and he goes commando. What a beautiful strong cock and my god, he shaves. His balls are nice and firm, a nice handful. I’m really gonna love this. I love the way he’s writhing and moaning. I need a taste.
Man, he barely fits in my mouth but he tastes so good. The best lollipop ever invented and tonight it’s all mine. I can’t help but stroke his perineum, fondling his balls, stroking his cock with my lips while trying to fit more of him in my mouth suctioning as hard as I can.
“Jesus, what the hell is going on? Oh no, don’t stop. Just, oh god!” Well, that always makes a girl feel good.
Maybe I should back off a little though. I want my fun too. What can I use to cool him off a little. Oh, I know. Let’s check out the freezer. Score! Those tiny ice cubes that I can fit in my mouth. Let’s go see how he likes this. Melting ice water on a hot cock. Man, he looks so good lying there panting. He is so gorgeous and he may not know what’s going on but he’s definitely into it.
I can’t wait any longer. I need me some of what he’s got. Straddling him nice and slow, and god he fills me up so good. Move slowly girl, make it last. God, I just want him to pound into me but I don’t know when I’m gonna get anything this like this again. We fit together so good.
Yes, oh god, yes, that’s it yes. SHIT!
“What the fuck! What the hell is going on? Who are you, put me back, I wasn’t finished yet. And where the hell am I? How did I get here?”
“I’m afraid little minx that you are quite finished. And you named the place quite accurately. You see, you’re in hell and that’s as far as you will ever get to go again. But don’t worry; we’ll make sure you get to this edge over and over and over again…without ever going over.”
The man in the seersucker suit gives me the devil’s own grin, “It’s going to be very entertaining having you around. Oh, and don’t worry about Paul, he got off before we took you.”
© Dawn C. Davis ~ 1999
Saturday, September 19, 2015
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Ponderings...or...OMG, she's thinking again.
At what point does something become hypocrisy? Where is the line drawn? I know that some areas are extremely black and white and it is very clear. I am a person who hates hypocrisy….abhors it. But I have learned recently that there is a grey area where some actions appear hypocritical but may not necessarily be. I’m certain that with some things this is a matter of perception. What one person sees in a situation is not what everyone else may see of the same situation from a different perspective. Not only that, but our perceptions are colored by our own life experiences and specific things that we may be going through in the moment.
Don’t get me wrong, I still despise hypocrisy, but I have learned that it’s not always so easily determined if actions/thoughts/beliefs might be hypocritical.
I have had exchanges this week that have caused me to step back and think about these things and I’ll be honest, I haven’t figure it all out. This writing is a means by which I hope to figure out at least some of it.
Possessive…this is a word used in this lifestyle (and out, obviously) and I have always thought it was a good word. I get a tingle inside when I feel I am being possessed by someone I desire and feel passion with. I love the idea and feeling of it, but there are connotations and deeper meanings to the word that are not what I need or want.
For instance, if you look up synonyms for the word possessive you get some interesting word options; controlling, jealous, overprotective, clinging, covetous, selfish.
I don’t like those words. I love the feeling of being controlled in certain situations and conditions, but I don’t want someone controlling (or trying to control) every aspect of who and what I am, or all of my life. I still need space to be me. I love feeling protected but I don’t want to be smothered. I love to be the focus of someone’s thoughts and actions "in the moment", but I would probably feel very uncomfortable to be in that position 24/7 (besides, life dictates other things must be taken care of). I also don’t like clingy.
There are good synonyms for possessive as well; e.g., hold, own, or care. All words, thoughts, and actions that I can fully support.
So does this make me a hypocrite? Or really does it just come down to where the line is drawn for any individual? What works for me obviously may not work for others. I want a partner who can accept me for who I am yet still push me to be better, more; but not overwhelm who I am or try to make me into someone else to meet his ideal.
It’s like the line between love and hate, or happy and sad. Two extremes of the same thing. It is the degree in either direction that dictates if it is positive or negative, and no one person can draw the line for another as to when it crosses over…though I would posit that the extreme in the negative would generally be unacceptable.
I am me. I get naked easily and freely. I don’t do it as an exhibitionist…it doesn’t “turn me on”. To me, being naked is no big deal. I may not always like how my body looks or feels on any given day, but that’s just life. I love me and who I am. My body is the shell that houses the giving and caring person who is me. I refuse to let anyone try to make me feel shame about the fact that I am comfortable in my skin and being in my skin (naked) in front of others. I don’t get naked for attention. I don’t get naked hoping someone will want to touch. In fact, if someone does touch me when I’m naked and it was not negotiated…well, trust me when I tell you you don’t want to go there.
I am me. I create a safe environment for my models to get naked and feel accepted for all they are and feel beautiful. This particular point is so incredibly important to me. I don’t care if you’re a size 2 or 22 in front of my camera (I’ve been both of those sizes BTW). I try to capture something with my lens that goes so far beyond just the skin a person lives in. That is my art. That is my goal.
I am me. I have a stubborn streak as wide as the Pacific Ocean, possibly wider. Really. Trust me on this. Don’t try to tell me how to feel, what to think, or to be something other than who I am. It will not end well. But at the same time, I can give everything to the right person in the right circumstance and moment, but don’t ever take that for granted or you will see that stubborn streak and you will never break me of it. I give freely and easily or I give nothing. I am a girl of extremes. This is something I have learned about myself and am learning to temper in certain situations.
I am me. I am an artist (nods to my sis, -AnamCara- for making me understand this). If I want you in front of my camera there is a reason. Trust that it is no small thing. And don’t try to force or coerce me to have you in front of my lens for your own gratification and/or because you’re an exhibitionist and you’re making notches on your belt for all the photographers you’ve worked with. That does not feed my vision.
I am me. I have a hard time owning my masochism sometimes. I think it’s a private part of who I am (which doesn’t mean I can’t play in front of others). I know that I can go deeper and take more when I am doing it in a place of being consumed in the moment by/for another and there is a sharing of trust and respect.
I am me. I giggle when you hurt me in delicious ways. But it better be negotiated or trust me, I won’t be giggling, nor will I ultimately be the person who is hurt.
I am me. I love and adore spending time with my friends but sometimes my need to be introverted comes first. Even then, if one of my friends needs me, the need to be alone gets tossed out the window. If you are one of those that I call friend, I will be there for you in the darkest moments. I will hold you while you cry, I will hand you tissues, and I will feed you chocolate. But be warned; I will also tell you the unadulterated truth and not everyone wants to hear the naked truth. I will call you on your bullshit if I need to. If I think that calling you on your bullshit may break you (in a not good way), I may choose to walk away because it is the best thing for both of us. And that is hard.
I am me…and I’ve barely scratched the surface really of who I am.
Don’t get me wrong, I still despise hypocrisy, but I have learned that it’s not always so easily determined if actions/thoughts/beliefs might be hypocritical.
I have had exchanges this week that have caused me to step back and think about these things and I’ll be honest, I haven’t figure it all out. This writing is a means by which I hope to figure out at least some of it.
Possessive…this is a word used in this lifestyle (and out, obviously) and I have always thought it was a good word. I get a tingle inside when I feel I am being possessed by someone I desire and feel passion with. I love the idea and feeling of it, but there are connotations and deeper meanings to the word that are not what I need or want.
For instance, if you look up synonyms for the word possessive you get some interesting word options; controlling, jealous, overprotective, clinging, covetous, selfish.
I don’t like those words. I love the feeling of being controlled in certain situations and conditions, but I don’t want someone controlling (or trying to control) every aspect of who and what I am, or all of my life. I still need space to be me. I love feeling protected but I don’t want to be smothered. I love to be the focus of someone’s thoughts and actions "in the moment", but I would probably feel very uncomfortable to be in that position 24/7 (besides, life dictates other things must be taken care of). I also don’t like clingy.
There are good synonyms for possessive as well; e.g., hold, own, or care. All words, thoughts, and actions that I can fully support.
So does this make me a hypocrite? Or really does it just come down to where the line is drawn for any individual? What works for me obviously may not work for others. I want a partner who can accept me for who I am yet still push me to be better, more; but not overwhelm who I am or try to make me into someone else to meet his ideal.
It’s like the line between love and hate, or happy and sad. Two extremes of the same thing. It is the degree in either direction that dictates if it is positive or negative, and no one person can draw the line for another as to when it crosses over…though I would posit that the extreme in the negative would generally be unacceptable.
I am me. I get naked easily and freely. I don’t do it as an exhibitionist…it doesn’t “turn me on”. To me, being naked is no big deal. I may not always like how my body looks or feels on any given day, but that’s just life. I love me and who I am. My body is the shell that houses the giving and caring person who is me. I refuse to let anyone try to make me feel shame about the fact that I am comfortable in my skin and being in my skin (naked) in front of others. I don’t get naked for attention. I don’t get naked hoping someone will want to touch. In fact, if someone does touch me when I’m naked and it was not negotiated…well, trust me when I tell you you don’t want to go there.
I am me. I create a safe environment for my models to get naked and feel accepted for all they are and feel beautiful. This particular point is so incredibly important to me. I don’t care if you’re a size 2 or 22 in front of my camera (I’ve been both of those sizes BTW). I try to capture something with my lens that goes so far beyond just the skin a person lives in. That is my art. That is my goal.
I am me. I have a stubborn streak as wide as the Pacific Ocean, possibly wider. Really. Trust me on this. Don’t try to tell me how to feel, what to think, or to be something other than who I am. It will not end well. But at the same time, I can give everything to the right person in the right circumstance and moment, but don’t ever take that for granted or you will see that stubborn streak and you will never break me of it. I give freely and easily or I give nothing. I am a girl of extremes. This is something I have learned about myself and am learning to temper in certain situations.
I am me. I am an artist (nods to my sis, -AnamCara- for making me understand this). If I want you in front of my camera there is a reason. Trust that it is no small thing. And don’t try to force or coerce me to have you in front of my lens for your own gratification and/or because you’re an exhibitionist and you’re making notches on your belt for all the photographers you’ve worked with. That does not feed my vision.
I am me. I have a hard time owning my masochism sometimes. I think it’s a private part of who I am (which doesn’t mean I can’t play in front of others). I know that I can go deeper and take more when I am doing it in a place of being consumed in the moment by/for another and there is a sharing of trust and respect.
I am me. I giggle when you hurt me in delicious ways. But it better be negotiated or trust me, I won’t be giggling, nor will I ultimately be the person who is hurt.
I am me. I love and adore spending time with my friends but sometimes my need to be introverted comes first. Even then, if one of my friends needs me, the need to be alone gets tossed out the window. If you are one of those that I call friend, I will be there for you in the darkest moments. I will hold you while you cry, I will hand you tissues, and I will feed you chocolate. But be warned; I will also tell you the unadulterated truth and not everyone wants to hear the naked truth. I will call you on your bullshit if I need to. If I think that calling you on your bullshit may break you (in a not good way), I may choose to walk away because it is the best thing for both of us. And that is hard.
I am me…and I’ve barely scratched the surface really of who I am.
© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2015
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