Kinky's alternative sexy list

Not because they are alternative but because it is an alternative list.

Every year some poops do a sexy list. They talk about charisma blah blah when it's just about grooming and looks. Same old, same old.

And ew. Emma Watson? As in young Emma Watson?

Happy Halloween Bitches.

1. Whitney Port. Now come on, you hate "superficial" shows but you'd tune into The Hills for this bomb. There's a reason LC likes this girl so much. Just good friends? Whatever. The girl knows her fashion but she doesn't come across as snobby. She talks about clothes with passion. Not afraid to take risks and very human. Trapped in the body of a model. Oh Whit, I'll rescue you from this terror.

2. Leighton Meester. There's a pic of her in a black top and jeans, hair pulled back, exuberant face. She may have done a sex tape but she's no Kim Kardashian. Behind the scenes she and Chace Crawford make out like a school teacher wrapped primly in brown tweed and her favourite student.

3. One Tree Hill Brooke and Hayley. These two believable endearing characters are not quite the Todd Anderson, Neil Perry sandwich I'd like to go, but a nice addition to spanking Sundays.

4. Simon Cowell. The heavens made a man who pulled his trousers up so high it made me want to pee just looking at him. If pee doesn't turn you on, Cowell will. You can try to explain it. You can use words like charisma. Confidence. Buisness sense. Humour. You could. But just sit back and enjoy.

5. Edward Cullen. Played by some man called Robert Pattinson. Pattinson is blessed with good skin but even if he wasn't, he'd rock Edward Cullen like no one. He admires Brando? It shows..and that peformance was still original. And sexy. See Cullen is the sexiest vampire and Pattinson got him just right. And thus it pleased those who lusted after the Edward in the books and those who hadn't yet read them. Cullen is so not the poser loner. He is Brando.

Coming soon, golden showers and red hot heat.

Sequel of squaking seagulls continued

I'm shitting,

more Slowburn


Mike tore his permit up. Friday was over.

Melanie told him she needed to get away from the city. But he had a big case coming up. He told her he could leave it (he would) but she actually swore and kissed him. He wanted her to do that again, the kissing part, so he repeated what he said and she said this time against his lips, that his work meant a great deal to her as it meant a great deal to him. The way she said that.. He had a vision of her doing his tie up every morning, their own place, having wild sex in the nights, he'd be tired, she'd be tired but unless they invested in seperate bedrooms there would be no way he could resist her.

He missed her every night she had been gone. It had been roughly 8 and she wanted to go this retreat before her first counselling appointment. She was booked in to see someone out of the city because she joked she liked the big gardens. She was reminded of some movie she saw and the shenanigans those characters got up to.

It wasn't One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, she said. It was David and Lisa. He almost choked on his own saliva. The girl had a naughty streak. She was getting counselling, not full time checking into rehabilitation of any sort. He wondered if she seemed to want to.

She was a completist through and through. Just wanting to get closer and closer to the truth and in this case , her truth.

But then she'd be quite careless about somethings which made him consider his proposal she come should work for him.

God if ever he couldn't figure a person out..

And the thing of it was, he smiled, he'd keep trying.

He remembered everything she said to him before she left. They had spent two days completely together. This wasn't the first time this happened. Weekends were tricky. They literally had to drag themselves out of bed to get some food. He discovered her love for Italian. She told him it was evident in her hips. He told her he didn't care. It was her. She could double her weight, 60 to 120, he'd fuck her every day against the wall -practicality be damned.

And their first goodbye to their last. He made love to her. Trying to be tender. He had a thing about her breasts. She moaned when he kissed their plump flesh, she said she was saggy, but he thought they looked womanly and when she bent down, it turned him on.

Her nipples were amazing. So responsive. They got hard in the air even. Round, brown, perky. Just the second best thing he had in his mouth. The ultimate was the taste of her pussy. Even she liked that. He saw her licking her fingers after masturbating in front of him. The whole thing made him wild. He had already shot his load but his dick jerked when he saw her take her fingers and swirl her tongue around the middle two, each by each. She looked him straight in the eye when she did that.

It would be a test to see her now. So many nights without her. He hadn't given in. They said they wouldn't masturbate. And he finished so late that he couldn't call her after work. And didnt want to disturb her in the mornings. Phone sex would be a new adventure.

Just one of many.


When he reached her retreat, he took out the bouquet of flowers he bought for her. It was funny actually that her going away would be the first time she got flowers from him. Before she left, he bought her a gift just to tease her. It wasn't a cd. Or a book. Instead, he was on his way to get something in that category ..but something caught his eye in the window. He thought about her wearing those sexy red satin panties, just them but then it wouldn't really be a gift for her would it? He went a step further and thought he'd make her eight days an eternity. With a wicked smile he purchased the dildo. It would be a good size for her and ooh he would love to fuck her with it after he she fucked his cock of course, but no masturbation remember? He reminded her when he handed her the gift all wrapped in pink packaging. She raised her eyebrow at the choice of gift paper and then laughed when she saw the gift. "I promise, Sir."

God she needed to stop calling him that. And when she said "Detective." It was wrong he got aroused by this.

He couldn't take it so he fucked her with his fingers just before they left the house. The front door wasn't even locked. He slapped her breast with one hand under her sweater. She made a noise and he looked up to see it was similar to the time he gagged her.

The less he thought about that the better. He had to try considerably hard to take his mind away. Though the image of her when they got to the retreat, was something he kept pictured. Her face had gone so..quiet. She tended to do that but this time, there was something to her that frightened him a little.

When he asked her, she said the retreat reminded her of a holy place. Places of relaxation were holy to some. But he argued..then she just snuggled up to him.

"Mike."

"God..Melanie." He saw her as soon as he walked through the front doors.

She moaned as he kissed her.

"You're blushing wildly."

She closed her eyes. Was she embarassed?

"I tend to do that. Especially in situations like this."

"I see the hot oils haven't stopped your wit" He tapped her bottom slightly.

"Mmm" She smelled the flowers.

"Oh yeah..for you."

"Gee..what next marriage?"

"Have I missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"Let me get my luggage" She continued, "I want us out of here."

"Seems a nice place though."

"Yeah. I just really missed you."

He laughed with her as he took her suitcase.

"Yup it's just so heavy Detective."

"Mel" He whispered

"Have you got your cuffs with you?"

"Dont do this" His dick would literally burst out his pants.

"Its been hard you know not to shove that dildo in my pussy."

"I could do it now. Im so wet."

"Goddamn it Melanie."

"Mmm"

He dropped her suitcase and kissed her on the lawn.

"Take me here."

"No"

"Please"

"No.." He whispered

"Pretty please with a pink cherry and I'm not wearing a stitch of underwear..Detective..not just on top"

Mike shoved his dick against her denim covered cunt. "Im going to fuck you so hard. But not here. It's not decent"

"We could get arrested"

"Exactly"

"Exactly" she smiled wickedly.

He shook his head. Somethings would never change.


"Go to that wall, stick your butt out, naked and waiting for me."

Yes the sight of her against the wall, her softness to its hardness. Her tits pushed against the surface and her arse stuck out in the cold air..

Slut, he thought. He didn't imagine she swayed her bottom slightly. Her sweater was half over her boobs and her jeans completely off.

He stroked his hand over one of her cheeks. And it was better as he thought it would be with when he had gloves. She seemed to like leather. And he wanted to give it to her.

He hadnt eaten her pussy for more than a week. He sat on the ground and took one lick of her cunt, feeling her outerlips and a little of her clit.

He could hear her "Oh" and he kissed her lips and clit, pressing his lips together. Then he couldn't wait and pushed his face higher. As much as he loved her thighs, toned, shapely and soft, he was starved for her wet cunt.

As he ate her out, he could her squeal. She never squealed before. So she was correct in saying she hadn't masturbated once in that week away from him.

"Good girl" he couldnt help but whisper but it was no use as she wouldnt be able to hear him for all his savage tongue fucking of her pussy.

"God Mike, no..I'll come."

Yes I want you all over my face he thought.

"No..No.." He almost laughed at how she tried to push away but in doing so it only pushed a part of his face between her thighs more, and he got access to more of her lips which he liked to stroke with his tongue and occasionally taking a bit between his lips and he almost wanted to bite her not her lips but deeper.

"I can't come unless you're in me Mike!" She shouted. Someone would come out he know it. And they'd watch. He was too past it to care about his job.

"Oh oh Michael. You're so good.."

Come for me. Come for me he said in his mind as he sucked on her button and had his lips open against all of her pussy. She was tight but in his mouth. Literally in his mouth.

Oh. Yes. Her pussy juices all over his chin. He got quite a bit in his mouth and she was like honey that some of it would come on his chin.

This was bliss.

"Michael I love you."

What?

Erotic romance heroes and real life.

I've never had a thing for someone who would feature in an erotic romance novel which and whose heroes I love.

I think that's one of the reasons I subjected a part of the world (3 people probably) to my abuse of the genre, is to have a creation based on men I have known and not known so much.

It's pure selfishness. It's great!

I LOVE erotic romance and I love the heroes. I don't feel alienated when I read a book or when I read about the hero. There's a couple of things that make me roll my eyes I'll admit but then if I'm kind of in a mood that day I'll roll my eyes at Friends, you know? Do you see my point..

I love erotic romance heroes because they're pure turn on. It's the whole thing that makes up erotica, having someone push your buttons and bringing you closer to pleasure. Whether it's reading about hard asses or hard abdominal muscles or beautiful blue eyes or a beautiful sense of humour or you know anything that can capture a woman's interest, especially if she's horny, they're all captured wonderfully in erotic romances. These men come to life. Er probably because they have a personality as opposed to the one dimensional stuff I talk about here.

So how come if I encountered someone like that in real life, and I had once, it doesn't turn me on? It's probably me. Like I don't know them to the extent I get to know them in erotic romances. It's certainly not an intimidiation thing. I'm not normally attracted to people I am intimidated by because aside from the fact I'm intimidated by everyone no really, I think losers use intimidation.

The powerful boss scenario can be sexy as hell in fantasy, but I think MAJOR FUCKBUTT in real life.

I don't like men who growl at you. I don't like men who are sarcastic. Or grumpy. They come off as arseholes and I in turn hate them. In a I despise you for your lack of humanity kind of way not a I hate but want to secretly lick chocolate off your dick way.

But in an erotic romance book this Mr sarcastic grump is a hotter Mr Rochester (if you like him, I do but he's a little bitchy isn't he?) ..and in books, loner, sarc grump guy doesn't make me spit "asshole."

Oh that's interesting terminology..anyway..

There's really no real point to this post in particular. Oh actually there is, I just remembered. I bought an erotica ebook. And I really enjoyed the way he was pushing her buttons to get to know her, to get past the polite exterior one tends to put on if they don't want to end up losing their job and working as a ho, but then he started doing this thing. Talking. Oh God. The animal references. I'm more a *grunt* occasional (but please not too often)"baby" type woman, you know?

And the other non point of this post. I tend to go for nice people. Not pushovers. I hate pushovers. I hate passive aggresive people. Er probably because that would include me. But I hate that in a man. Ooh do I expect man to pay for our first dinner together? Fuck yes. It give me a little thrill. But I don't tend to go for smooth, suave men. It's just men who are polite without asserting themselves too much, who have a natural ease and charm, a smile, a hello. I go so crazy for men like that. Just being around them is enough for me. It makes my day and I can masturbate to the idea of them being kinky with me.

Actually there was one hero in an erotic romance who turned me on immensely. He himself was a turn on as opposed to what he said, which was also a turn on but as I'm a huge fan of dirty talk, it becomes a bigger turn on than the actual man himself. If animal references aren't used and the "baby" isn't abused, dirty talk = SEX on fire.

So my future fantasy husband was a teacher. And funny. And intelligent without reminding me of a dreadful Sherlock Holmes movie I once saw. And not too sophisticated, you know not Rochester worldy. He's a little too weary for me. So back to teacher. He was a man in touch with his sexuality but only had eyes for her, without calling other women bad names. Though he did say something but I'll forgive Mr Kincaid that. God even the name was sexy.

As much as I like Go Fug Yourself

http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/go_fug_yourself/2009/10/fug_or_fab_rachel_bilson_1.html

If only for starting off with phrases like My Cousin Fugly,

but NO Justin Bobby from The Hills is not like Ethan Hawke's character in Reality Bites. That's more offensive to me than Rachel Bilson, not a bad actress, playing Winona Ryder's character. Rachel Bilson is not nor ever will be Winona Ryder.

If you don't get that then you didn't get Mermaids. And you didn't get Heathers. And you didn't get why every teenage girl looked up to Ryder. She was the awkward, deep, beautiful inside and outside girl. Bilson is bubble gum to her.

Justin Bobby is more like that Pratt Spencer than Ethan Hawke in Reality Bites. He may think he's like him but he's not. At all. The only similarity is the grungey thing. But Hawke's Troy is like some God hero compared to that twit Bobby. Troy was honest and earnest. He was having one night stands with the occasional groupie type because he was waiting and torn apart for his love for Winona Ryder's character. I can't spell her character's name. He was ten million times the man Jblah will ever be. Okay that was harsh but did you even watch Reality Bites? Did you even watch Dead Poets Society?! But seriously, NO. Anyone who knows more about Hawke other than Uma Thurman and dps, will know I'm right.

Go fug yourself, go fuck yourself.

You ruined my amoretti biscuit aftertaste.

"Changing ourselves to meet someone else's expectations."

Yesterday I was watching this programme about skin lightening. I have to admit it was sort of weird because actually I didn't think anyone still bought into that stuff.

Over here in England we get less sun and 20 years ago the whole pale English rose thing was embraced. It's English people's natural colour. Now..I think they are darker than me. I'm Indian.

Fake tan is a MASSIVE industry here. "Sexy" people have fake tans. "Geeky" women have pale skin. Unless they have excellent bone structure. And it seems tanned men are more popular with women and the erotic romance genre than men with pale skin. Personally I always loved the milky skin look on men. When Todd Anderson in Dead Poets Society's jumper exposes his mlik white neck, I'm in licking mode.

Tmi..

But even more so, I have always loved someone's natural looks. I'm not into men who fuss over their hair or wear makeup. Or fake tan. But then I do understand the need to look one's best. The trick is to not make it into a need.

So on the one hand you have pale people tanning.

Then you have people with brown skin tones using skin lighting cream. People in the asian community who actually would prefer to look like "corpses" (not my word)..meaning the lighter the better.

It's westernisation. It's movies where the movie leads have the lightest skin. It's parents and relatives saying, if you're dark you better be good at something because no one will marry you for your looks. I know it's bloody shocking. But it exists.

In my own experience as someone who has a light olive/wheatish skin tone, read "yellow" and sallow, and as a girl who likes her red lipstick, I think the going two shades darker route would delight certain people around me. Do I care? No.

When it comes to what skin is the most physically appealing, would it seem the ladies with darker skin get the interest of gents with lighter skin?

And do those with similar skin tone to Chery Cole get the interest of all?

And do those with similar skin tone to Beyonce Knowles capture the interest of men with darker skin than hers?

Why I ask is just to point out that yes there are people who are specific in that they like what they like and know what they like. Then there are people who are just plain narrowminded. And these people exist amongst strangers and apparent loved ones.

That you can make your eyes more feline using mascara and eyeliner but there is a difference in doing that and going to have them done by a surgeon. Underneath the make up unless you subscribe to the Pamela Anderson school of thought, you look like you.

The programme made one very excellent and true point. Some of us are changing ourselves to meet other people's expectations. We are becoming someone we are not. We are losing our individuality.

Of course when one looks in the mirror and looks like what is liked and or what they themselves like, logic and reasoning flies out the window. They don't care so much about damage to their skin, their HEALTH, when they look that like that. Because looks DO have too much importance based on them in this world. Instead of women having amazing personalities and strengths and looks not mattering, it's the women who have the personality and strength and the looks who seem to be more valued.

I say "seem" because I don't think they truly are. You see value and worth comes from inside. If it comes from outside, it's a quick fix. If it leads you to someone who will cherish you forever, then it's possible they do actually cherish you (listen to me kids, I know it all) but your looks got their attention first. However, I have my doubts over such a relationship.

They say "ugly" people are the ones who think the most about these issues. And use marks for that word. I sort of have this thing where I think everyone thinks about these issues. Because they are there for everyone. However some people may get a better deal than others purely for the way they look.

I don't envy those people. I never fell for someone over their looks. For me that whole..just something about them. A pretty person captures my interest for less than a second. But it's something in that person which would make me obesses over them.

The more you have to work to make ends meet, the more you see everyone is human. That the world is full of obstacles for everyone. Isn't it better to show some spirit than be a portrait? Because the reward for spirit is better than those for looks. It's happiness that can't be touched. It may be brief. Or may it be long. It may take time to get it. Or you may get it in bursts every day. But it's TRUE happiness.

I don't want to live a false life.

Sexy at the movies.

So I'm watching The Way We Were. I don't find this movie sexy. It's powerful and sad and that's thanks to the chemistry and relationship between Redford's character and the inimitable Barbara Streisand (I'm a fan).





And Robert Redford..I'm the only woman in the world who just finds him too..blonde. Didn't he originally have red hair? Or was this a joke as opposed a "rumour?" Leave it to me to ponder the important questions. But the guy has more than enough charisma that he could have been the first red haired male star. I mean in Indecent Proposal he made Woody Harrelson come off as a damp squid. And that guy is larger than life. Okay Harrelson's character was such a wussy type anyway.





Anyhow, whilst watching Indecent..no I mean The Way We Were, I got a rude awakening. I switched channels and saw Harrison Ford yelling at the American President in Clear And President Danger. OH MY. I never dug him before, but he is SO HOT. Giggle giggle shut up shut up.





Pity he isn't naked in that movie all the time.





And that crooked lip thing when he's angry or smiling...





But he should take that earring out.











So let me do a top 5 sexy movie list. Why not?





1. Training Day. *sigh*





2. Kiss The Girls. Ashley Judd plays some bad ass good ass and I'm a very weird and disturbing person because the violent scene between her and Cary Elwes..now it's not so much what he's doing to her and what he's saying, girl is covered in blood thanks to him- I hate blood- and he's trying to rape and abuse her..that's not what is erotic to me.





It's just the high tension. I have a thing for movies with mentally and physically fit females in mostly male environments using their physical and mental excellence..Clarice Sterling, Dana Scully.





Lara Croft- NO WAY. (And even Angelina Jolie in that movie she was in with Ethan Hawke and they had wild passionate wordless sex..God he's hot..NO WAY).





Kiss The Girls - best watched last thing at night before you slip completely naked under the quilt.








3. French Kiss. Kevin Kline with I thought a terrible french accent (you probably loved it , didn't you.. He probably won awards for it, didn't he)..but he plays such a different character to that piece of shit Meg Ryan is going out with in that movie.





Oh My God her piece of shit boyfriend is exactly what's wrong with the world. Along with paedophiles. Rapists. Bombers. Pscychopaths. OKAY but vomit piece of shit boyfriend is so typical!





And Luc Kline's French guy just does not care. But he's got a sense of humour and drives very badly. Oh he's just one of the best romantic comedy guys ever. If not THE best.





4. Legends of The Fall. Brad Pitt's hair. And when he makes love to Julia Ormond.





5. Dead Poets Society. Boys. In Uniform. Okay don't call the police. Said boys are over 16. They act like they are. They look like they are. And I have a thing for Robert Sean Leonard as the doomed, intense but cute in personality too Neil Perry. And Todd Anderson. That's one sandwich I'd like to try. "Oh my!"





6. Please? Basic Instinct. Oh I barely lasted that movie. *smile*








And yes I saw Secretary..and it was so romantic. I love that movie.

An excerpt my friends from Unleashed. Unapologetic sexy scene.

(Copyright © 2009 Saskia WalkerAll rights reserved — a eXcessica Publishing publication)

Molly stared at the pen in his hand, immediately aroused and self-aware. The key to her kink was right there in his hand. She liked to be written on-in fact it aroused her to the point where she could come from that act alone. This was the time to show him, then she could see how he would react.

She took a deep breath. “Tell you what…” Her voice sounded shaky, and she hated that. She didn’t want this to go wrong. She wanted him. Badly. “Why don’t you give me your number? It’ll be better that way. Really, I promise.”Before he could question her, or show doubt about why she’d said that, she shoved her forearm out across the counter between them, pulling up the sleeve of her top. She ran her finger up and down the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of her forearm. “Write it…here. Please.”

Would he laugh at her? One corner of his mouth was still lifted and stayed that way. He toyed with the pen, his eyes assessing. Her breath was trapped in her throat. A moment later he slowly moved one hand and held her wrist down on the counter with it, while he began to write on the spot she had indicated with the other.His hand around her wrist was warm and strong, sure. And then-oh. The pressure he applied through the ballpoint on her skin made her nerves leap, the sensation chasing itself up her arm and through her body, flooding her with arousal. She bit her lip.He looked up from the place he was writing and back at her. She could tell he’d sensed this wasn’t just about exchanging numbers.

A needy moan escaped her lips.He stared; one eyebrow lifted, the pen, also. “Did I hurt you?”“No.” She could barely get that one small word out, and when she did, it was with a breathless, relieved sigh. “I like it.” She shrugged. “It makes me really hot. I’m wired weird. I just wanted you to know. Up front.”She snatched her arm away, bracing herself for the disbelieving laughter, the snide remark. Tension hung in the air between them, seemingly endless. Then he looked down at the countertop. What was he thinking?He glanced up.

“Kinky girl, huh?”She stared him directly in the eye, her heart beating fast as she braced herself for rejection. “Does it bother you?”“Quite the opposite,” he replied, and flashed her a grin. “If I know what turns you on, it gives me power… and it just so happens I like to be in charge.”Oh, that made her hot.

It was so far from what she had expected him to say, so direct. And then he moved. In a heartbeat, he levered himself over the counter, jumping lithely down onto her side of it. For the first time, he had breached the physical divide between them-and he’d brought the pen with him. Holding it raised in his hand, he put his free hand on her shoulder and walked her through the rails of plastic-covered clothes, backing her toward the wall behind those rails, out of sight of the shop front. He cornered her up against the wall.Her body pulsed with the thrill of his actions.He grasped her two hands easily in one of his, and lifted her chin with the pen under her jaw, an action that shot sensation down her neck and chest, right into her hardening nipples. She gasped for breath, her eyes closing and her head moving back to lean against the wall.“Oh yes, it really does it for you, doesn’t it. How bad is it?”He still had of the pen under her jaw, controlling the position of her head and where she could look. Could she tell him? Her eyes were shut and she kept them that way.

“I need it.” Her voice was a mere murmur. “It’s crazy, but I can’t come any other way, not the way I do if…”When her voice trailed off, he moved the pen just enough to apply pressure to the sensitive flesh beneath her jaw. Her eyes flashed open.“Is this making you wet?”“Yes.”

And a link to Pink Buttercream Frosting by Lissa Matthews. Because I read two sexy books today. http://www.mybookstoreandmore.com/shop/product.da/pink-buttercream-frosting

I hope that when I fall in love I don't fall in love with love.

Love shouldn't be a distraction. Or a feeling that you love feeling.

To me, love is when you are so involved with a person. Of course logic can fly out the window so I suppose the term being crazy about someone is okay. Yes I permit you. As long as you are crazy about them.

I just see this word being used so much. When it comes to people, I think it's dangerous. Oh boo hoo you say. Ah, well it can fuck someone up you know? I don't talk from experience but I know certain things. I've seen them.

Of course being crazy about someone and it be unrequited is not great but it's what I imagine love to be. No point in using the phrase true love. Love should be all of it. The true bit shouldn't have to be there. There shouldn't any love which is not true.

And if your love is unrequited, then I believe that you can free yourself from it. Yes I'm half quoting but I value that quote. Time is a great healer. You just have to believe in time no matter how lengthy it seems. I believe you can go past a certain point because you are tired of being tired and you can have something upon you and still live your life.

I'll be a little mean and say I don't see the great deal in love. Love isn't the only feeling that makes you feel you can do anything. All you need is love? All you need is life. Love is a part of life but I don't think it is the be all and end all. Of course I write erotic romance but I know I will write some which do not have the traditional happy endings. I write them because I am interested in self discovery as well as relationships between people.

I suppose I believe more in being really fond of as well as wanting to tear someone's clothes off because it's them.. rather than being in love. Personally I think love grows. I understand your knowing he or she's the one. I completely understand that. I get Romeo and Juliet's feelings. I'm not sure why and it doesn't have to make sense, but the sometimes you just know thing- yes I believe that. And I believe it's not just instinct.

However, love? I just think it grows between two people.

But of course if someone tells me they have fallen in love and they are glowing about it, not just talking but you can see it in their face, I will be happy for them. Kind that I am. And I'll them they should go for it. Hearing my say it, they sure will. Ahem.

I just won't be converted into thinking love makes you fly without wings.

No picture posted as what sums up love?

Damn I wish I was your lover.

I wish I was your lover

When I see you with a girl

I imagine you with me

Your passion shows in the way you talk about her

I lean closer

Closer and we'd be touching

Damn

I wish you could feel me burning up

I melt

The words you say are for me when I imagine

Being your lover

I know how you would be

Touching my thigh

Caressing my neck

Licking my lips

Stroking

Please,

Do what you want to me

Stay always near

I want to hear your thoughts

Those words make me imagine low,

Hungry and sexy, the way we would be

I wish I was your lover

I wish you fucked me.

Looks and humans.

I don't normally do this but is this for real?

The woman I see nowadays has a very different body type from this..and from me.

How did she manage to get such a streamlined, angular face? Because here no cheekbones are showing and she has the definition of a full face.

Since I've lost weight, I noticed my cheeks have flattened but I still have a full face. The cheekbones are more visible ..only if you look closely.

I'm just kind of ..not shocked..but wondering was this the highest weight she's been aside from when she was pregnant (let's not go there)? Was this to be considered her "unhealthy" phase? She looks fine to me but of course a comment accompanying this photo was, "this is the fat photo I've been looking for." Not even "fat", just fat.

Was she on some medication at this time?

The reason I wonder all this is if she looked like this now do you think she would have the same persona?

And regards to the medication comment, would you consider this photo normal?

If it was just any woman, would you think she was fat?

How about if it was an actress..forget it's Jolie just another a new actress, a fresh face, do you this woman is fat? Be completely honest. Do a first opinion, second opinion, first glance, second glance type thing.

The reason for this is I just want is to be out in the open. I'm not asking if I myself am fat because I do not care about normal and fat...I just think in the world we live in where there are so many unhealthy relationships between food and humans and lifestyle and humans and men and women..we should be more honest about everything.

I think too much is covered up. There are too many big fat lies.

So back to Angelina, do you think she would have the same persona she is known for? Let's not even start on success. Just think about the whole sexy thing. Or would she have considered been the less pneumatically hourglassed version of Jennifer Tilly had she looked like the photo above?

And if Jennifer Tilly is considered an ideal woman in the sense of her figure and her little girl voice, why so? What happened? Centuries ago this wasn't the case..or have they been covering something up, was it?

And I wonder about the whole sexy thing. What does it mean to you? Is it the same as "hot?"

Do you think sexy and self worth are linked and if so, how much are they linked?

Personally as someone who is described as pretty or even in an extreme case beautiful, but never sexy, I don't need someone else to think I am. That truly comes from within and I'll be honest, unless I'm in my lingerie, or naked, I don't actually think I'm sexy. I certainly don't dress sexy. I don't emphasise my boobs or my waist or my bottom. Or my legs. I dress to be warm, smart and I like pretty colours and jewellery. My self worth could be better but is still intact regardless of how sexy I think I am.

So I decided to stop being such an idiot

And realise it's only one patch of eczema. Never mind it could be worse. I don't think in terms of scales. But I do think when people who are struggling to walk make the effort to walk, I who doesn't have any problems with her legs, damned well better make the most of them. Meaning don't wait till something goes away. Just get outside anyway. After a few days, in most cases one tends to be less infected ..i think my infection has gone. Of course that patch is still there but it's becoming less. And I've decided to quit my cream just to see if it was that causing some of the rash; I have very sensitive skin.

Fuck it. I'm alive.

Not every story continued..

He remembered the way she responded to his hands on her round bottom. The way she leaned into his palm more and more as he spanked each cheek. The way her skin would redden. It made him want to lick each part. He was overwhelmed with the protectiveness he felt for her. When he came inside her asshole, he stroked his hand over the bottom of her belly because even he didn't have the strength at this moment to pick her up in his arms where she belonged. Where she belonged? What was this possessive shit running through him? So she let him spank her. Why did that mean he loved her? She looked at him with her deep brown eyes and touched his spent cock. He remembered the way it hardened again. Why was he always hard around her? What was she doing to him?

"No baby .." He whispered but she had her mouth on him already. She was sucking his cock and his head fell back. She had become really good at this.

She made a noise and looked at him. He shook his head. Nevermind. But he was proud of her. No woman had ever touch him the way Tallie Rosseau did. Not even his first wife.


The door opened and she looked straight into his eyes. I can't do this, Tallie thought. She wanted to close the door and go back into the room. It wasn't necessary to have dinner at the cafeteria..she could just take something into her room. Like she had done the last few weeks.

Then, she just closed the door behind her anyway and tried not to stumble onto him. He looked ..the way he always had done. She had suffered the impact of the last bomb and was left with scars on her body and face. He wasn't. But he had suffered with her. She just wouldn't let him in. She couldn't. A part of her had shut down and Ry was not much of a talker. He just kept holding her hand never letting it go she remembered in the hospital. He kept looking into her eyes, searching, waiting for her to speak. She hadn't spoken one word to him since that bomb exploded near them. She remembered the way he tried to shield, the way he almost picked her up when she couldn't run as fast as him.

As she walked past him, she thought, her hero.


"Rosseau are you going to talk to me?"

Damn it she was right in front of him. Looking away not meeting his gaze but he invaded her personal space.

"It's Rosseau now?" He almost smiled when he heard her voice. It was the first time she had spoken to him since those bastards had..

"Tallie" He cleared his voice. "Tallie," He took her hand. She flinched.

She was scared of him? She was still not meeting his gaze, he wanted to touch her chin, look at me he would say, damn it why wasn't he blessed with words? He couldn't ever be a smooth talker but he would try and gentle himself for her.

"I need you." He whispered as she half ran away.


"What'll you have M'am?" The bartender asked Tallie as she tried to sit on the high seat. At least the pain in her body had gone down.

"I don't want anything." She met the bartender's gaze. I just want to sit here, she thought. "Just the food menu" She said quietly. He brought it to her.

She knew she had some sort of a reputation now. Things had changed from her day as the quiet studious computer analyst. She was now the Private who got injured in the war. The one who was discovered naked with her Captain not short before.

Fuck.

She ignored the people around her and read the menu. She would order something different tonight.

"Look who it is."

"Oh hey Ben." Ben was one of her friends from their old days training together. He looked exactly like all the men here in their uniforms, except he had the kindest face.

"I took your advice Tallie."

"What happened?" Tallie smiled. Ben had wrote this woman he had been seeing at his parent's home. He was an articulate young man and she was happy to be in his company again.

...

"So, I'm sorry for what you went through."

"Hey" Tallie shrugged

"I"d be giving you all the medals. You're my hero."

She laughed.

"I'm serious. To come back after that." He shook his head. "You've got inner strength, that's counts more than us" He motioned to his uniform.

"We're all here to serve a purpose. You too Ben. Sometimes you never know how much something affects someone."

He placed his hand over hers. She did almost pull away. But this was Ben. She looked into his eyes the first person she had properly interacted with since the war; she didn't feel skittish at all right now.

"I..just .."She sighed.

"It's okay Tallie. " He stroked her arm in a friendly way. Please don't cry he thought. "Oh..hey..it's ..come on, it's okay" She cried and after his initial nervousness, he took her into his arms.


"What?

It was only after the red had gone from in front of his face could Ry find the words again. "Your. Arms. Away."

"Captain, I swear.." The young man looked nervous but Ry almost handed it to him, he didn't flee away.

"He wasn't doing anything, man I saw." The bartender looked at Ry as though he thought Ry the monster may punch him.

He swallowed. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible and take Tallie with him.

He looked at Ben console Tallie, she was no longer in his embrace and Ry saw the tears on her face. Had he added to them? He watched how much care Ben took with her. Okay so he was just a friend. But he didn't know that before. Tallie despite what she may think about herself was a beautiful woman and with her quiet nature..some men may take advantage. Like he did. He felt sick.

Not that he would ever..and she, well , it was very defnitely consensual but she had two sides to her and that side the one she shared with him , he had a feeling that didn't come out that often if ever at all. And now it had and especially with her near fatality she had gone more shy than before.

Ben offered him a friendly smile as Ry watched Tallie on the chair. She was completely still. Then she started to get up.

Please. Please. Please. He wanted to whisper in her ear. He couldn't care less about the people watching them.

He followed her once she walked past him. Her body so close to his.

Once they were out the door, he thought she may shout at him. But she didn't say anything. Just kept on walking.

He watched her. Around her, he couldn't control himself. But he didn't want to add to the pain she was going through. He watched her walk away.


Tallie closed the door and leaned her head back. He smelt so good. He didn't wear what other men wore, he just smelled like him.

Any woman in her right mind would have been embarassed. She was clearly in the wrong state of mind. All she could think about was him coming through the door and fucking her against it. But of course she smiled, he wouldn't.

She touched her scar on her cheek. She still had the same needs inside. She had feelings for Ry. She loved him. It was easy to admit. Her heart and mind were starved for him.

She ran her hand over her breast and plucked her nipple through her top. It was only last night she thought about him spanking her. He would have come in her room and asked her to face the wall. Then he would have taken down her fitted trousers and lace panties. Panties he made for her. He would breathe in her ear, "don't shut me out" His voice a whisper and his lips would caress her ear lobe, then she felt a spank. Gentle and hard at the same time. That was him.

She needed a shower, all this pent up emotion. Maybe after she would pluck up the courage to go back to dinner. It wasn't him. It was just being out of the silence of her room.


When Tallie undressed, she always thought of him. She was almost hesitant to take off her panties, knowing Ry liked them so much. She fantasised about stepping in the shower, warm water running over her body in only her panties. Him seeing her through the transparent shield and taking his clothes off as she watched him and he watched her. He had a beautiful frame due to the strict military training he went through. She thought his body would be capable of so much..now she actually knew. She would never forget the way he fit against her. Her shyness was often a barrier but he broke past that and his mental strength was as high as his physical. Perhaps it was the way he was born and the obstacles he himself had to go through. She sensed there were things he wanted to tell her..but Ry was a man of action.

And she knew he wouldn't speak much when he saw her in the shower. Once he had undressed, he would stroke his erection. Being genetically altered, he was different to other men in that department. He was so beautiful. She would eye his cock and feel the water mingled with her own scent drip down her body. She would look him all over. From his beautiful piercing blue eyes to his strong legs.

He looked her all over too. He would have her backed against the wall. Leaning forward, he touched her pussy easily visible through her panties. She moaned. He made a noise. His fingers were strong and never left her. With his other hand, he stroked her ass. It felt like he touched every part of her flesh. He didn't ask her to turn around, instead he made her. Then he ripped her panties and she moaned violently. He supported her body with his big body and added a third finger to her pussy. She looked down and saw his beloved panties a scrap against the floor.

Her breasts felt heavy and she remembered that he told her he fantasised about fucking them. That he got off on imagining coming between her soft tit flesh. He hadn't yet sucked her nipples. It was like he was prolonging it. Was he a breast man?

She couldn't think anymore as just as she was close to coming, he slapped her bottom and drove his cock into her pussy. He was hard and needy. She was so wet and so needy. There was no time for foreplay. This was him possessing her. She wanted to tell him not told back, that was it was okay, with him she would take the harshness she felt he was ashamed of, his need, his nature, it was okay with her. Because it was him.

When she felt his cock it was like he touched her womb as she had never felt before. She thought that was bulllshit but with him ..

"Oh Ry" She whispered, her face against the wall, his cock possessing her pussy and her bottom going crazy against his balls. Did he like them sucked?

He spanked her again and she smiled. The first time she had cried. Mostly with emotion. "Come in me please."

"Ask me again, Tallie" He hoarsely whispered her name. No one said it like him ever.

"Please."

"Please what?"

Oh she couldn't wait..His dick was right in her and she just needed to come on it as he was lifting her on him and her tits were rubbing against the shower wall, "Pplease Ry"

Spank!

"Beg me some more." He growled

"Sir." She moaned. "Please come in me. I need you."

"Oh God Tallie. "

"Uh"

He was power fucking her now. Fucking her like crazy.

Oh that felt..

She loved him and the words were gone from her mouth when..

He came so hard and she waited for him to come so she could..Once she came, it felt like she was experiencing his release also. Not just his cum but his whole cock which was still inside her and she felt that she knew it would be painful for him to break away at this point.


She fantasised about him fucking her like this in the shower. She was now fingering her wet aroused pussy. She didn't want to come without him. But she needed to and she could have done.

She wondered if she should just wear a garment and walk out like this. Wet, hot and messy.


Tallie was completely wet. And messy. And her cheeks and body flushed. And she was trembling with need.

She wore just a coat over her body. It was madness going out like this. And she didn't have the guts to speak to Ry. She wanted to bump into him. But she knew she may not and she knew nothing may happen if she did.

A wicked thought crossed her mind. It wasn't what she needed but she thought about a random man brining her to release. She would cry out Ry's name. It would all be for him. However she should never have had this thought to begin with. It excited her that he could punish her for this. That is if he still cared.

Locking her door, she took a deep breath. It would be so easy to go back into her room and go to sleep without masturbating. She would dream of him. And she would dream of him if she fingered her pussy and came over her fingers.

She walked on knowing where she was going.

Harumph.

Nothing and no one gets me down. I'm going to write. Thanks to a certain follower of this blog for your support. You know who you are. *point, point point*

You know, I once read a story entitled At Her Captain’s Command. I always thought about a little what happens next. So this is it. I’d like to take my time over it as I value what the author wrote in the original story. It was a beautifully straight tense erotic piece which I haven’t forgotten three years on.If you have chance I really recommend buying this eBook which contains the story (as well as two other erotic, sexy as hell ones).

http://www.allurebooks.com/ebook-future-fantasies-two.htm

I haven’t been on this website for a year! They are very good and I remember buying "Red Bottom Ranch" from them. I wish they were more active. Love the stories I bought from here.

If one can summarise At Her Captain's Command here's how it's not done. So Private Tallie Rosseau is a woman who works in the Military on the computers side of things. She's not in the physical stuff. She gets into an operation with this man Captain (Ry) Boa who's a genetically altered test tube human (God I know, what are the chances). They are on a mission (okay is it bad I remember every line of their sexual relationship but not much of the actual mission even though the author was very clear with it) SO the mission is to plant a virus on the enemy lines. He's in the physical stuff (remember, i told you didnt i?) and she's in the computer hacking programme and they're stranded on this planet going to do this together. They are essentially on a two person army fighting a war with someone else (fighting the enemies..pay attention). So they could die.

In this situation and with them being in such danger and in such close proximity to each other, her having to obey every single move of his and him having to protect her (sexy) , I mean she's normally a shy woman but "will they give into their unspoken attraction to each other?"

"Her Captain's Command.. offers a hard, militaristic view of the future, with rough, hard sex to accompany it. Both stories contain hot sex, bondage, domination, masturbation, spanking, and oral sex. " *dry mouth*

So,

I would like to take things from them escaping death (I'm no good with this mission part) and returning to their "normality." The original story was written from a he said she said point of view..I'm actually not going to do that. It's harder to do that for this story because I'm trying not to shit on it.

There really should be laws against someone doing this to an author's work. All I can say is sorry.

And here goes..

Not every story has a moral.

Every morning Ry would walk past her door. He knew she would be on her bed thinking too much over what had happened. They had done things. He had done things to her. He hated to feel the way he did. Because he knew how she felt. He knew her. But the sickness of it was, he couldn't get the memory of her bent on the floor, ass in the air and arms stretched out, as he had ordered, begging him to come inside his slut.....

So I know this is expressyourdepression at the moment

rather than express your kink. The kink will come soon ..

But here's the thing. Yesterday I went to hospital as I found a smallish spot on my cheek became a swollen hard bump, rather red (shows up so much on my skin) and I was diagnosed with infected dermatitis. Which is sort of eczema that has become infected. I was given a cream and to be honest it was actually nice to have a little trip out in the evening (must do again) (but preferably not to a hospital).

Why am I writing about this? It's on my mind. You know when you are waiting for something to work..well here I am waiting. It could take days before I see an improvement but then also there may be no improvement. I don't think it will get worse unless a gremlin bites my cheek at night. (Which sort of leads to the response of ugh no thank you).

I'm not vain but you know because it's so out there for everyone to see and there are so many misconceptions about skin stuff, it's a little annoying to say the least. Yes I'm lucky to be alive. I know that. However with regards to skin, people automatically go "acne"..which is fine because acne is very common ..but there are so many misconceptions about that, mostly "ugh unhygenic." Which I intend to set right.

Even in erotica books you'll see phrases like pimply faced geek.

And this is too big too be a pimple and can not be concealed. But then it's not big, big.

I take care of my hygiene and cleanliness but I have a weak immune system and that I feel could be the only reason why I got this. My father does also have a history with eczema though. Mine mostly resembles a lump spot-zema.

Anyway, kind of hard to write sexy, sexy stuff at the moment. Sex at the moment just feels like it should be more of a release kind of thing. Not anything creative or fun. And it's all too raw..pun intended..to have it as inspiration for anything I write. Not that I write about porcelain skinned wasp waisted heroines. My heroines and heroes are real (speaking of, I have a new muse- and he's not an actor or whatever). And yes I do believe in the term real woman - provided you don't take it too literally, but that's a whole other debate.

So I guess it's fare well for the moment. I may do some writing focusing more on romance soon but next week may involve doctors visits and I know afterwards I will just want to take one big chill pill along with whatever they prescribe me.

I remember the first time I had something like this. It wasn't the same as what I have now but that's thing, so I have my doubts as to the improvement scale never mind that thing clearing. I spent that -last time I had something similar to thus- week watching 80s movies like My Best Friend is A Vampire (thanks to a very kind friend- who also gave me very good advice) so it wasn't all bad but boy that particular one was on a good day, just peeled the bandage off to find healage.

I of course don't expect miracles like that, and I'm unbandaged this time (oh gosh you're thinking The Mummy aren't you) but I'll always remember, excessively sad though it is, as it was the week before Christmas too.

Oh sigh and farewell for now.

Take care of yourselves. I'll let you know if Kinky has to have herself a little procedure.

I know there should come a point where I stop writing and start doing

..I feel MY writing is here because I am not doing. I mean I'm not a complete waste but today meant a lot to me actually and I couldn't do it. I couldn't even force myself because I didnt't feel up to it.

Before anyone says I have flogging tendencies, I can say for a fact that "didn't feel up to it" was never an option when I was at school.

My point; I have gone soft.

When I was at school, I HAD to do things. Because if I didn't, I would be in trouble with my parents, my teachers and at that time school was my world. If I went now I'd probably quit when the going got tough.

But at that time quitting would have been like death. Seriously. Suspension was literally a crime. To me. So I had to follow the rules and in turn I was pushed AND I was actually pushed subconsiously to follow what was inside of me to the extent that nerves did not get in the way.

I was doing things I did not like, don't talk about comfort zones because I didn't even know what that meant at that time. And I was doing things I liked.

I liked who I was back then. The girl who had her hand up first in class every time they asked someone to read out loud.

I had a lust for life. I had problems and I was unpopular but I had spirit back then.

It's not like anything that is happening to me now didn't happen whilst at school, sure perhaps being a child more leniency was allowed; I got away with being a weird child more than a weird adult but when I left my University course six, seven years ago, that's just it : six, seven years you'd think someone who talks about carpe diem and passion and lust would have done something crazy like I don't know go in search of inner peace and enlightenment or get romantically rejected by famous authors and actors!!...rather than just writing and writing and analysing and..yeah I mean I'd still write but at that time I was doing TOO.

At that time I was in an establishment, I didn't like it but I now wish I was still in one.

But like I say I have changed and so I now know leaving the establishment is an option. Therefore, I'm fucked, aren't I?

So I long for the naive person I was back then. Because she would have gone to the audition today and felt excited about it. Actually excited.

I can remember doing concerts at school, LOVING those evenings. I was the life of our little group. Now I'm the opposite.

I am.

My life happens in my writing. Everything else is just passing time. Something has to happen to stop this because this is a very sad state of affairs. I may as well be dead. No don't worry..but this is my way of telling someone please intervene. Anyone, please push me. Don't just encourage me, tell me I should live each day as if it were the last. Why should I live each day as if it were the last? Why is death something to be afraid of? I really need to know.

Fuck it, I have become complacent. I HATE complacency. I think it's a killer.

Missed opportunity and regret.

In case you are wondering, I didnt go to the audition.

What happened to all my talk? When the time comes, I can't do it.

But I am going to get help for this..because sooner or later I do want to audition but I clearly have a problem when I can't even face people not even for the audition.

Got to around one hour beforehand before I resigned myself and became stubborn said no can't do it.

Ten years ago I was the person who would have queued for a 2 second chance of an audition. Now am a total loser.

I know there's a reason for this but you know what, it mostly comes down to how you are as a person.

This is something for the ultimate lonely girl.

Not the girl who wants completion. But the one who stands alone no matter how many people are in her life. And the one who is constantly misunderstood. So this is a short story about this girl's erotic love.


While other girls dreamt about twilight eternities and romances, she dreamt about him.

When she was a girl she got her first feeling of lust. She developed early, she started her period early. When other girls whispered through the school doors like fairies, she walked with purpose, full breasts bouncing and dark eyes knowing.

She would sit in class looking out the window waiting for him to come to her. It didn’t have to be at night. She was ready for him to storm in the class and take her on the wooden desk.

At first he was only a feeling. Her first wet drop of excitement when she felt she had to cure the ache between her legs. At first it was merely a cure to the ache.Then he formed an image. Then the ache took on a meaning.

Her nights became longer as she discovered more about the way he liked to take her. Rough.

Needy.

Like a man.

She imagined standing in front of the class blocking out the meaningless noises of the girls and boys and ignoring the perplexed glare of her teacher, and saw him sitting in front of her watching. In her day dream she opened her blouse and slid her hand up her leg exposing the flesh on top of her long sock.

He looked her all over. From her eyes to her pussy even through her skirt. His eyes would not miss her ankles or her calves or her stomach. Then she almost came when he looked at her tits. He didn’t make any faces, his emotion was hidden but his eyes were alight.

Then her dream ended as the bell rang. She told her friend she had to go the bathroom. Locking herself in the cubicle, with the sound of running taps and gossip, she didn’t care, she stroked her pussy through her panties and masturbated to him.

She came with a deep thud in her pussy and her lips silently forming an OH.

She pushed her face against the wall and wished he was cleaning his cum joined with hers from her moments ago filled pussy. He kissed her on the neck not chastely but passionately and then she turned around and he was gone.

When she got her period she felt her breasts swell. She got a rush of excitement when she knew he could give her orgasm after orgasm merely by loving them instead of her pussy.

When Dale and Kirsty said her breasts were the only thing noticeable about her, she moaned that they weren’t but at home she moaned as she imagined him seeing them for the time.

How would he suck her nipples? How would he brush his fingers across them?

She would laugh at distracting herself with the odd boy or two when it was him she really wanted. She was just passing the time. The boys she did distract herself with were a cut above those who had neither the brains nor the guts in her class.

It was then that she realised she couldn’t see her dream man’s eyes. She imagined him sometimes taking on blue eyes, other times taking on brown, depending on her boy.

Then when she first kissed someone, she ran her fingers through his blonde hair and for a second felt her true lover’s head between her legs. His hair was dark. And she came on his lips.

Needless to say the boy she was kissing made his appreciation of her responsiveness by grasping one of her breasts and pushing her against the wall. But she couldn’t remember coming again.

Twenty years later on the same day and at the same time, on a dark, cold night, she went for a walk. She walked to the small area with a bit of water. Her hands wrapped in gloves and her body covered in a coat. Under her trousers and ankle boots, she wore long socks. She wore no bra.

She wondered various things. What was love? Did God exist? Would she be a good mother? When would she hear the tragic news of one day her own mother’s heart stopping? How would her life be altered?

As she got up, she saw a man across the water. She walked up to the water. It wasn’t so much that he had dark hair that made her do this, it was the way he stood. He stood like she always imagined he would. He consumed her. She looked him all over.

She was nearly thirty. She had known a few people and she knew some things about her self and some things she did not know.

When she saw his reflection in the water it confirmed he had walked closer to her.

Then when she looked into his eyes she finally saw her ultimate erotic answer. She smiled and turned. She walked away.

In the next few years of her life, she lived hard and fast. She travelled the world, loved a few men and was aware of her exquisitely sensual nature, flying like a bird, having sex like a woman.

She never saw him again.

Dead Poets Society.

Can you imagine waking up everyday meeting with people that you can have a good time with and even change each other's lives? The Dead Poets Society is full of possibility. The movie is one of my and my friends' favourites. Secretly we must have all imagined having an actual cave meeting. Have some of us ever done this? Because somehow gathering together in space would make us open. It seems, funnily enough, that in that space we can do a lot of things. We can dream and we can inspire each other; just go for it, do it and I know you're good at this.

We actually do have a space we can do that.

In the night we dream. When we wake, we sometimes follow our dreams. If we were in The Dead Poets Society, we'd wow everyone with our random prose, we'd maybe even surprise themselves, the people we respect and ourselves with our thoughts and our courage to show we can do this as much as any of you out there. Perhaps even better.

If we were in the Society we would gatecrash a party and see a different crowd and maybe meet new people, those we liked, those we loved, those we didn't care much for and those we were physically afraid of. But in that night, we would have lived. Think how different the next morning would look.

If we were in, we would for one night own the stage and an audience. People of different ages and backgrounds would watch us and listen and we would have a voice and have touched the sky.

All this wouldn't be possible without the person who says go for it. These are teachers. If we were in the Dead Poets Society we would be taught and teach and really learn something. And go to sleep with a smile on our faces.

The Dead Poets Society; just think of the possiblities.

More on the sequel to Slowburn.

Mmmm she loved kissing him. She moaned against his lips as he took her bottom lip and sucked it between his two. He was the best kisser. Of course she didn’t have much to compare against but then he would be the best kisser. It was in his nature to be the best at everything.

“Do you have to go?” He breathed out.

“No” She chuckled. He nipped at her lips.

“Woah..”

“Oh” Both Mel and Mike said this the same time as a man entered the room. He was dressed in the same uniform as Mike, Mel just burst out with “Hi.” He looked Mel over who was now standing. She waited for him to say something back but he continued as if she wasn‘t there..

“So Michael..”

Erm..Eric, this is my girlfriend Melanie.” Michael was now looking more than a little authoritative on his chair. He reached for Mel’s hand. She gave it to him half because she wanted the ground to open up. She was fairly sure her clothes were a mess in her haste to literally pull them over her.And possibly the shortest smile in history was given in the way of Mel from this Eric guy.

“Mel, this is Eric Leonard my colleague.”

Mel bit her lip in order to stop saying hi again. It was clear she wasn’t going anywhere with that.

“So I better go.” She whispered to Mike.

“Okay love.” He said to her. Then he kissed her. She couldn’t help it, she turned her face a little and saw Eric make a little motion with his lips.

“Bye” She whispered to Mike.She felt his eyes on her as she went from the room. Unfortunately she felt Eric’s too..but she was used to things enough to know what exactly his look was.


“You like her?”

“I’m going out with her.” Mike responded.

“What’s your problem?” He continued.

Eric made a noise.

“Seriously Eric if you have a problem I’d like to know.”

“Look mate you like her, I’m not going to interfere.”

Of course he “LIKED” her. Mel wanted to burst into that room and ask Eric himself what the problem was ..what EXACTLY the problem was but she needed to get out before she embarrassed herself further. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she listened to this part of the conversation from the outside.


She felt bad all throughout the morning. She was at the library but couldn’t focus on what she was there for. She just kept wanting have Mike’s arms around her. She needed his love and protection at this moment.



“What didd you say to him after that?” She stuttered but she was so upset now.

“Mel?”Mike saw her on the floor with empty beer cans around her. “You drank all this?”

After work she turned into an idiot and purchased all this beer on an impulse.

“I was going insane.”

“Oh Melanie..“Mike leaned down.

She leaned against his chest. “Tell me what you said”

“I don’t remember. All I remember is wanting to punch him.”

“Do you think I’m an embarassment? I mean..obviously I am..” She laughed “but at work.. I should never come to your work.”

“I hate that idea.” He whispered.

She stroked his arm. Lifting her head, she looked at him, feeling dizzy and eyes burning “Maybe..we should break up?”

“No.” he shook his head. His face looked stormy. “Don’t let some idiot do this to you.”

“Its not just him.” She blurted out in a rush. And then watched Mike watch her cry.

“Then they’re all idiots. You’re the most perfect, beautiful woman I know. You have to believe it and ignore everyone else.”

She took a breath to blurt out, “I cant be pitiful.”

“Mel he hurt you I can tell. I’m going to carry you to bed and I want you to forget today. He’s a jerk.”

“But its true..why can’t I just be normal?”

“Why cant HE just be normal?"

“I wish this pain would stop.. I thought drinking this bullshit would stop it.” Her voice croaked, just speaking hurt her.

“You hate this stuff..” He said.

Mel thought his grey eyes were the window to his soul. She had known him for less than a month. It would mean more to her than anything else in her life.


In the morning she felt she was going to die. Her head....”Hey..” Mike handed her a drink. Ugh. Did even sleep with her last night? “This is wild” She choked out almost choking out the “drink” she referred to.

“Drink it all.” He mock ordered. But he would probably check she had.

“I’m sorry .“ She said after finishing off the vile crap. “For last night.”

“You were hurt.” As if that excused her she thought.

"I still am. I want to do something about this."

“What did you want to do?" He put the cup on the bedside drawer.

“Get help.”

“Mel..” He kissed her, “You have to remember in all of this..that you havent done anything wrong.”

“I know “She leaned her forehead against his.

“I love you..that’s another thing you should remember.”

She smiled.

“Will it be kept secret?”

“What?" He asked.

"My going for counselling."

“How do you mean?"

"You wont tell Eric?"

"That bastard is not going to know bullshit never mind the most intimate details of our lives. Michael said strongly. "You think I would tell him?"

"No..but maybe in an argument..don’t argue over me. I'm not worth it. "There she said it.

“The hell you arent." Michael got up. "I realise these idiots have done something to your thinking but by God if you ever say that again…"

"Oh you're angry. I love seeing it when you passionately defend me."

"Don’t joke now!"

She laughed.

"Goddamit Mel!"

"I'm sorry.."

He looked at her as if trying to wonder if it had been a joke or if she believed she wasn’t worth it. Then she thought of the phrase actions speak louder than words. She was in his arms again. This time, he lightly pressed onto her body embracing her as she lay on the bed with him on top.

"I remember the first time I saw you." She frowned...because in some ways she didn't want this to happen. "I knew you'd be remarkable."

"It was probably my uniform"

"No" She smiled. "It was your face. Just something about you. I wasn't sure. I was so tired at the time. Working at college and then coming home to work..but I kept thinking about you all day." She whispered and it didn't help to stare at his lips.

He kissed her.

"Wait.." She said. He did. "You know when you have a crush on someone?"

He looked at her, didn't say anything. "Well.."She continued.."This isn't a crush. I sort of had this thing that being around you would be all I need. I think I'm the luckiest girl to have ever lived just for that."

The kiss he gave set her body alight. Every nerve responded. Every part of her was erect.

"I'm not using a condom this time."

A little of her went wild. He was firm. Possessesive.

"Do I get a choice?" She couldn't help but smile.

"Yes. You always do."

"You know I couldn't ask you to stay away."

"If you did, I would."

"You'd lose it." They both know what she meant. His control was amazing and watching him lose it would be too.

"I remember how you tempted me on our first date."

She blushed. It was perhaps more the fact that he remembered their first date. No, it was more the fact the he couldn't control himself when he saw her breasts.

"But before that, I wanted to just kiss you the office. No more. For me, I had to make sure."

"Then when you answered the door, I felt protective. Then at the restaurant..pure lust."

"Make sure. Protective. Pure Lust. In that order?"

"I've actually thought about it." He nodded in agreement to her question.

"I fantasised you were screwing me in front of the whole school."

He raised his eyebrow as a wow.

"That was the night I first met you." She continued. "I dreamt about sex and then I imagined it was all you. Everything else was secondary to you."

"No wonder you blushed so hotly when I saw you in the morning. Do you remember?" He asked.
"I can only remember being incredibly aroused when I saw you. I wouldn't be surprised if I blushed."

"Mel" He took her lips, "I have to be in you."

She moaned.

"It's not that I can't wait for this talking" He continued softly and hoarsely, "I just have to fuck my woman."

The Gilmore Girls of all things prevent me from go insane-er.

I started to write poetry and may even keep a journal of all the shit that gets dumped on me everyday.

I may even youtube it.

Here's my poetry and here's Rory Gilmore. Her witty lines and independance in one cute voiced "package" stop me going all Carrietta White minus the telekinetic powers.

That woman

She's banging banging against the walls

Theyre closing in and no one's there anymore

She's going crazy becausethey ran away

Couldnt listen to her

Couldnt hear her

Couldnt understand

No one cares about her extended hand

The way she looked them in the eye for help

But a smile played on her lips

A smile is a lie

The room is getting tighter

The air is getting hotter

She's banging harder

Putting it into words becomes harder

Breathing is harder

Trapped trapped trapped between two hard walls

No one can hear her

But all she really wants to say is

No she won't change herself

But you can change, YOU can change, you can control it

But don't you see she can't

She says it finally..the words she's been looking for

She says it under closed breath, sweat on her upper lip

Her clothes soaked

Her mouth dry

She's banging

She's crazy

She's hysterical

Then she remembers in those few moments of realisation

Cold and hard and isolating

That yes other than she was truly alive

She will always be on her own.

Evil bitches and their pussy little followers.

Like a whiny baby he tags along with her

Always ready to conform and give in to her

She was under his thumb

Soon he'll be under her heels

Evil bitches can't really be happy

They can pretend

For a moment she will look at the sun

Oh it's because she cares..

...

Then as if the sun rays highlight her disappointments

She will start whining like her little baby friend

I hate

I hate

I hate

HE merely tags along with her

Perhaps burping time is due

I laugh at bitches like her.

Decency prevents me from kicking her.

She belongs in shit

Perhaps she thinks she will meet me there

But evil bitches don't belong

They go to Hell.

Whiny babies like him get born every minute.

"It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, "Always do what you are afraid to do." Ralph Waldo Emmerson.

I'm sticking this up on my cubby and looking at it every single day before I go out.

I may not always have a feeling of "unconquerability" but I should know my potential ALWAYS. I should know (believing will come) I'm not just okay in myself but I'm loving myself more than enough to silence those around me. And if their noise won't stop, it's just noise!

So when I fear, I should smile about it too. I shouldn't be afraid of being afraid. I should play with it, I should play with those around me.

It's not so much crippling fear if it has already crippled you.

Oh I just love the rainbows and fluffy kitten talk.

I think we all get nervous from time to time. It used to be this adrenaline rush and then slow down for me..now it's not so much that. I KNOW what to expect because pretty much everyone's "worse nightmare" has happened to me. When I hear other people, I think , you were mortified by THAT? I still have genuine empathy for them but inside I'm also thinking yeah..at least you know what your problem is and at least it's labelled and at least you have a hope of getting it sorted.

Have you ever had a panic attack (I used to have these, I don't anymore, don't ask how, I don't know) with someone looking at you straight in the eye and their mouth turned up in disgust? This wasn't some should know better bratty kid, this was a woman I would guess in her 40's.

My problem won't get sorted until 95 percent of the population is wiped out. Wow that sounds so harsh and extremist. But it's not anger I feel, just disappointment. I'm really sad I have to go through this at all. Go through what? If I told you, I'd get the response I know of..so I don't talk about it. I just randomly blog about it of course.

Without actually being 100 percent honest. Well, I have my dignity, I accept a response once and not twice.

But I feel I'm actually crippled by what has happened and is happening. Oh of course I thank my lucky stars I can walk and talk and breathe and eat but one thing I've noticed is I'm less responsive to physical pain. Worryingly less. Cuts, blood, bangs, shoves; as they say "whatever."

Yet I've still managed to retain myself. I recover all the time. I'm still me but injured.

Anyway so I'm writing this because I'm going for this audition Monday and I know what's going to happen and I also know there may be unexpected things. But you know social situations..I have a very good idea of what happens. All I can do is be the best I can be. I want to be. I want to be a part of this play. I want to one day be one of the main characters in the play. Nerves? Yeah I'm sure I will get them. Stone cold fear? Perhaps that too. I know I will also put on a brave face and blush a lot and have a very dry mouth and perhaps stammer but I know my strengths. I have a lot of inner strength. I have a good speaking voice..even when slightly affected.

So all I can do is prove the words I read through strength and conviction. And I just need to remember this, and read this piece of crap again because this is me. I need to keep my voice strong like it used to be and can still be and straighten my body and care about what's on the page and the audience if I am given a few minutes to get to the point where I can block out the laughs, smirks and groans and memories of having things about my appearance being talked about ..well if I can work with the audience in some way..who knows in a away I feel like doing it now..come on bring it on..remember this speech I did? I was fucking great..and EVERYONE after their initial balking shut up and there was silence in the room and my English teacher complimented me to high heaven..

I don't know why I'm including my picture. Well this is me. No I don't have an eye defect, I am looking down. Webcams are tricky! Oh great now I'll get millions of offers from weirdos asking me to strip on cam...

I'm joking.

I don't have anything to hide REGARDLESS of what anyone says, tough, I'm here, look at me, deal with it. I don't hate myself wholly because I'm in love with aspects of life and yes some more blabbering bullshit, I have nothing but my desires to prove.

I WANT to do this. I would LOVE to be in the play.

Poetry

Wrap this collar around your neck

Turn me on

Does this mean you belong to me?

You would do anything I ask?

Your smile is serene as you lay in bed

Nude

But for the leather and metal

I do not know my feelings all of a sudden

I feel like a new person seeing you this way

I feel this sudden rush of pleasure

I realise I can lick and suck any part of you

I can please you in any way

You are bound to me

Do you feel helpless?

I laugh because it is me who is helpless

Are you in pain?

I am in pain

You look so soft to touch.