Undress Slowly for Me

I wish I could get you naked. It's my favorite state to see you in. Your skin glistening in the moonlight streaming down from the window. Your head tilting to the side caught in some far off dream; your fingers mindlessly dancing over my skin. I wish I could run my hands over you, catch the scent of you lingering on my sheets. I could use a gentle lover right now. Someone who understands the importance of slowness. Someone soft and relenting. I could use you if you would let me. I could use you.

Submit

You need to learn that perfection lies in your submission to me.

Bent to a Kiss in the Sand

I am watching you paint your hands black in the sand as your long hair falls over your eyes and your naked skin glistens in the sun. I am wondering if you will let me get close to you or dart just out of my reach like the stray cats I am trying to befriend in the alley. Every time I reach down to pet them, they twist just out of my fingers touch but secretly want my hands to stroke their shiny fur and warm bellies.

My mind keeps drifting back to you stretched across my bed with my hands running down your arms. All strength and muscles and hardened scar tissue reaching up over your emotions. Now, in this sun drenched place your eyes are heavy with the heat and slight intoxication. The waves wash the shore clean at our feet leaving bits of flotsam and jetsam to tell us a story of distant shores. There's a party going on somewhere in the background but I am all caught up in my mind too far gone to ever really be here. I'm thinking about your fluttering hands and wanting to brush the hair back from your eyes.

I have come to accept that I am the holy unwanted and have made a happy enough home in complete emptiness. I understand the importance of the alone and that we have been here before where you found my charms wanting. I understand my unattraction, my disease, my ugly distinction filling up the room with a palpable taste. I understand that I am the villain in this story. I understand my own inevitable dislocation out of your mind and spirit.

But I keep coming back to the vision of your eyes as the sun set and the moon rose. The rays caught in the depths of your irises; the scenery changing as we sat side by side, skin gently touching and fingers entangled. I heard your nervous laugh and settled against you in a moment of relenting to an unused sensory contraption. I have let touch pass me by for years, guarded my skin against errant fingers and suddenly I am finding I want to touch you. I want to feel your skin. It doesn't have to mean anything more but I want to feel your weight against me on this warm soft night of the urban wilderness dipping to the shoreline.

I just want to feel this for a little while to remember what it is to be human and to be loved before I slink off into my hardened winters where I shall let the ice creep over my heart in my frozen kingdom. I just want to touch you one last time before I lose all of this into an endless night cradling a dead heart. I just want to remember you and your golden skin under my fingers as the last light of the day slips away before I lose my soul to the stars of isolation and longing. I will stand under the cold moon thinking of you, not so very far away from me, and understand that tomorrow I will wake up alone with this space in me never really filling up and never really letting me go.

Naked on the Balcony in the Middle of the Night

The cigarette touches my lips as I inhale acrid smoke then let it curl around my head as I exhale into the night air. My thoughts are drifting to you as I watch the moon rise over the alleyway. I wonder if the stray cats are prowling through the overgrown yard across the street and how many of the sparrows they have killed. My head is filling with your face. With your lips. With the outline of your body stretched across my bed.

It's not love. It's something else. Something I can't define and have limited capacity to understand. I could hurt you and you would call me God. I could lay beside you as quiet as the dim sky curled against your side in languishing softness and you would call me lover. I could be running through the streets deep in shadow under the trees screaming for you and you would call me wolf. I could be nothing sitting in the dark like this forever and you could never even realize I was calling for you at all.

In this dark spot near my green plants and slowly dripping waters I am deep in thought caught in the currents of my unsettled mind. I came here to build a place I could be alone. Absolutely. Undiluted. A home built on emotion and a wariness of your gentle graces. But still your lips are somewhere out there and my name may be painted on them. I can not see you smile in all this beauty; this trap I held in my hands in times of desperation. I think I can feel you waiting as confused as I am. My skin still holds the memory of your body, your muscles sliding against mine, your cheek resting against my leg. Will you let this distance close or grow between us?

There is something out there in the dark pulling me to the night. It is kissing my skin with windy fingers whispering my name down on moon beams. I wonder if the neighbors will notice if I slip naked into the night, down the roof to the street below. Maybe I'll come tapping at your window so we can play a game out in the fields tonight. We can run short on breath and fear. We can be something animal, something beyond what these cities are trying to steal from us. We can be wild tumbling through the weeds chasing little animals in the dark. We can fall from trees and roll skin to skin down into the grass, lips locked to lips in a passion only the ocean will understand. We can be something free, something grand, something exciting, something unstoppable...

Then again, maybe I will just go find something to eat and see what's on TV...

Anything Better Than This

Sitting on the steps by the library she stares at the toes of her shoes while he darts his eyes around trying to find something interesting to rest them on. The darkness surrounds them, warm in the summer night. They sit close together but not touching. He wonders how to end this. How to tell her he'd rather be fucking her best friend, with the big tits and blonde hair, than her. How to tell her she's just too boring for his glorious plans. A big rock and roll star would never be caught dead with such a plain girl. A big rock and roll star would have dozens of girls with big tits and blonde hair dripping all over him. A big rock and roll star would be a sexual legend. She wonders what she did to earn his angry silence and how hard it would be to develop a drug habit.

She leans over and presses her lips against his. He doesn't open his mouth but kisses back through tight lips.

"We could go to the park?"
"Yeah... we could."

He pushes her into bathroom stall at the end of a dark park walkway. He bends her over the toilet and takes her from behind roughly pulling her head back by her hair. "A cunt's a cunt," he thinks and pictures her best friend's round ass bouncing over his cock. She gasps as he pushes against her twisting her head to the side. "Does sex always hurt this much?" she wonders in between thrusts, "Does it always feel this way?" It's not like the romance novels she reads. There's no soft kisses. No gentle caresses. No one telling her that they love her always. He pushes against her hard and she whimpers loudly. He takes it to mean she's enjoying her submission; thrusts harder grinding his hips into her ass. A few moments later it's all over, she can feel his satisfaction dripping down her leg.

Now sitting on a picnic table in the dark, he lights a cigarette not offering it to her. She shifts her ass trying to find a comfortable way to sit that doesn't aggravate the soreness between her legs.

"Do you love me?"
"Of course, baby. Of course. Don't be stupid." He pictures his cock between her best friend's tits feeling a twinge in his pants. She stares out over the water wishing for anything better than this, knowing in her heart that it won't ever come. The city lights shimmer indifferently and somewhere a dog barks, lonely in the night.

The Spirit Takes a Body

The Great and Holy Council sat on her ornate throne shifting her weight from one round, plump butt cheek to the other. She wore only shockingly red stilettos and fishnet stockings. Her ruby lips parted to let a slow whistle escape as the dancing hordes swirled around her platform. Her loyal followers all wore ornate masks painted with sneering grimaces that glinted in the flickering fire light as they pounded their feet to the rumbling drumbeat. Her personal guards flanked her sides, all rippling muscle and shiny with oil. The Great and Holy Council rested her delicately painted hands against her chest and rolled her eyes back in her head.

The Spirit took her suddenly, arching her back at a destructive angle and raising her out of her throne. Her head threw itself back and forth like a rag doll caught in a dog's mouth as the Spirit shock her body violently from her painted toes to her perfectly formed breasts. The Great and Holy Council screamed a holy scream and breathed fire out her lungs into the night. The horde trembled in silent awe, stopped in their tracks, as she rose above them. A light emanated from her filling the air with an electric crackle.

Every head in the vicinity filled with visions of pure love and hatred; pure pain and ecstasy, pure pleasure and discomfort. Emotion undiluted created a mist that all inhaled into their lungs and expelled from their skin. The Great and Holy Council shuddered and shrieked louder, her naked body pulsing with waves of energy that seemed to threaten to crack her body in half.

And at the very moment when it seemed she would be torn to pieces by the Spirit and every eardrum in the crowd would be exploded by her screams, the Spirit left her. She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Her guards rushed to her side lifting her to unsteady feet. Her head lulled to the side, her eyes slowly coming to focus. Shaking to rid her self of the last druggy effects of the Spirit, she turned her attention to the hordes adjusting her perfect ass to a seductive position with a tilt of her hips on her stilettos. The hordes followed her movements with their hungry eyes, waiting for her to speak...

She parted her blessedly perfect ruby lips...

"Well then, now that that's over, let's eat."

The Great and Holy Counsel

I am the Great and Holy Counsel. Whether naked or not I am invited to the lives of others for sexual favors and long unedited stories. I am the collector of said stories and the dispenser of candy wisdoms. I can help you fix your life, read every facial emotion and still not repair my own broken dalliances in a world I still seem unfit to understand. I am the Fixer, open ears and all.

Come to the Healing. I will alleviate the damager and quicken your departure. I hear all. I see all. And I know where you are hiding those little ticking moments of truth faintly tinged in despair. When I plant that kiss on your forehead know I have done all I can and now absolve you of all crimes committed against my flesh loosing you upon the unexpecting world in my Holy name for all the criminal unfeeling masses to see. Carry my love and be forgiven.