Memories gently tugged down by gravity, like the last snowflakes that mark the end of storm. Both grateful and wistful. Both beloved and painful. Never too far from the edges of my mind. The voices of my past, and the memories of ghosts that reside there.
Category Archives: Pussy’s Jukebox
I am brimming with vital energy. I laugh, make animated gestures, sigh, whisper, moan. I give my body again and again like an offering being impaled upon an altar. Upon many altars.
I am the very essence of life-force. Stand close to me and you will feel my warm vitality envelope you. Kiss me and you will taste it on my sweet lips. Fuck me and you may savor the salty mist from the Fountain of Youth between my thighs.
I can make you feel alive.
I can give you sensations from shivers to spasms, from tingles to orgasms. I can elicit feelings from your body and your heart.
But you can’t do the same for me.
You can make me writhe and moan, cum and shudder, scream and thrust back against you like the dirtiest of whores. But you can’t reach beyond my body to the sanctuary within. You can’t reach the fire inside of me.
Someone once commented that it would be difficult to fuck and keep my heart from becoming entangled.
The answer is simple. Love a ghost. Fuck a man.
What is on my mind tonight, you ask?
I am thinking of how I miss the feel of skin against mine. I am pondering my craving for a silky caress that is laced with salacious reverence. I want to feel fingertips stroke my face from the curve of my cheekbone to the line of my jaw, while lips dance across mine. I miss the heat of another body pressing closer to me, trapping me against a wall, a kitchen counter, a door jamb, preventing my retreat.
I miss being kissed in sweet slow-motion, long and purposeful. A kiss that leaves me breathless, my eyelids fluttering as desire washes over me in salty waves and I go under. I miss long, graceful fingers threading into my hair and pulling me gently forward for the next wave.
The kiss is not just the introduction. It is the refrain that the symphony returns to; playing it again and again as our bodies crash and weave. The kiss is the melody that lingers in my mind the following day. I miss the feeling of true passion being given and taken, desire and yearning, lust and love all colliding in one moment in time that will remain forever. Long after the owner of those lips has gone.
A memory imprinted on the cells of my body, on my mind and heart. The memory of his kiss.
It wasn’t that long ago you held me in your arms. Do you remember the feel of my skin beneath your fingers? Do you recall the sound of my voice as you made my pleasure soar to the breaking point and beyond? Do you remember that little, sultry laugh?
As the days flow to weeks and the weeks become months, the memories of you are fading beneath the stroke of new hands. I do not often pause to reflect or wonder now, as I did in the early days. Now I simply accept the void; the empty space you left behind. But there are moments in the quiet dawn when I wonder if you remember? I wonder if you ever miss that space we filled together. Is there anything at all about us that you miss? Do you have moments of your own in the quiet dawn or darkened hours of the night?
Do you remember?
To gain my attention…lure me in.
To capture my interest…let me explore you.
To tempt me…intrigue me.
To entrance me…draw me into your fantasy.
To excite me…touch me with deliberate intent.
To make me ache…tease me mercilessly.
To make me tremble…show me your sensual diversity.
To know me…taste me.
To elicit a sigh…stroke me with tender authority.
To elicit a moan…breach the walls of my inhibition.
To make me scream…push me farther than I think I can go.
To feel me gush…make me shake, quiver, twitch and cum.
To possess me…be worthy.
Do these things with empathy, respect, understanding and unbridled heat, and you will find your possession is wholly devoted to you. You will find yourself lost inside a world of pleasure that is ours to discover. You will find your own walls breached, your boundaries pushed, and you will ache for the opportunity to paint me white with your passion again.
Is it seduction you need? Is the temptation to touch me, taste me, plunge into me calling to your body? Do you writhe and struggle with the urge to follow me down the streams of sweat on your body?
And…is the lure enough?
originally published on May 27, 2013