It's back again....

It blind-sides me every time.  I am going about my day minding my own business, and then it creeps up from behind and pours its toxins into my head, and I am defenseless against it.  Every thought becomes darkened; my mood turns to gloom bordering on despair.  The physical space around me seems to take on a melancholy glow of its own; the walls close in, light is diffused . . . my safe, cozy cocoon transforms into a cage, a trap that brings on panic that I am afraid will finally settle in, and I won’t escape.   

I turn on music to drown my thoughts, but my favorites betray me. . . the melodies are slower, more haunting, the lyrics accusatory and mournful.  Songs of love and seduction turn my stomach; I only want to hear what makes me ache, and my mind drifts further down into the abyss.  

Tears burn; I can feel their sting behind my eyes.  I can’t let them fall; if I do, I don’t know how to make them stop. . . they overwhelm me, and I can only hope that the pool is shallow this time.  So I fight them, but it is a battle I ultimately lose.  

You would think I would learn. . . ride the wave. . .don’t fight the undertow which is so much stronger than me and shows no mercy.  Surrender and let it carry me where it may; struggling is futile and exhausting, but here I am again, throwing punches at an invisible adversary that I cannot beat.

 These days paralyze me.  I have no strength; every movement is an effort that I don’t care if I make or not.  I can’t see past the moment; tomorrow is completely obscured in a tangle of weeds and murk.  I fish desperately for something hopeful, something to feel good about, but every attempt comes back empty. 

 I become entangled in apathy, and that is the great danger I fear more than despair.  It is the neutralizer of feeling, the killer of dreams, and the thief that slithers in and robs me of sighting any hope.  Quickly, quickly I need to pinch myself, wake up, shake free before it takes me down and steals my breath and turns my heart to stone.  

Can't seem to keep my mouth shut for long....

First of all I want to express appreciation for those of you that messaged me  to ask where I got off to or to make sure all was well.....I really do appreciate your concern.

Where I have been and why I removed my blog is a long story, and if I get started, it will end up being a very long-winded story, so I will skip any explanation for now.  I resurrected a few of my past postings...couldn't resist.  And I haven't done a lot of writing lately....I have been a bit too restless, but I am beginning to feel a bit inspired. 

I do want to reinterate something I believe I said in one of my first postings:

"I told someone just recently that journals although useful, have never held sway to me like they do for many others. I used the old adage...if a tree falls in the forest and there is no one there to hear it, does it make a sound? Well if I write and no one reads my words than to me they don't exist. And I need to know that my words exists and are validated. They are an extension of myself...sometimes just rambling, bitching, and meaningless garbage, but sometimes my words come straight from the deepest reaches of my heart and soul expressing my emotions, desires, needs, fears, and want, and if those are not heard or read, then where does that leave me...vapor drifting with the breeze."

Klonipin....sweet oblivion

Take the pill she says…her whisper brushes my ears, and the voice sounds like liquid…warm and sensual. Let go she says…don't fight it; let me take you down under the safety of the soothing, enveloping waves…nothing to fear here; no demons to worry with the restlessness of your soul or play with the troubles in your mind. Trust me she says…I will embrace you tenderly as a child and wipe the silent tears that fall slowly down your cheek…I will keep the seduction of lies at bay and quiet your mind…focus on the rhythmic ebb and flow of the earth's beating heart and listen to my voice. Close your eyes she says…you need rest and it's been so long since you allowed yourself peace…I will help you fall into the blissful oblivion your soul desperately seeks. Sleep woman she says…the world will not slip away; it carries on fine without you; the earth will still spin, the moon and sun rise…hand over control that was never yours to begin with. Already your tired eyes grow heavy…quit struggling and surrender. Take the pill she says…

So Wrong....

Driving through downtown at ten o'clock, I found myself envying the people on the streets and sidewalks. "Wish I was doing something downtown tonight," I muse. "Instead I am driving twenty miles out of town, and for what? Sex? . . . I don't know why I am doing this. . . .maybe I will turn the car back around, text him and tell him something came up." Of course I don't, that would be rude, and I seem to be bound to some sense of social courtesy that I can't ignore. I am determined to make the best of it.

I arrive at his condo; he is greets me outside. He is still in his scrubs just getting home himself from a ten hour shift in the ER. He offers me a drink immediately; I notice that the first two shelves of his fridge contain nothing but liquor. He then proceeds to tell me that he doesn't drink much. "Ah, you like to ply unsuspecting dates with alcohol, so you can have your way with them?" That elicits nervous laughter from him, "No. . . . ," he manages to stumble out hesitantly. Evilness enters my mind, and suddenly I am determined to have fun with this.  

He excuses himself to go change out of his scrubs; I make myself comfortable on the sofa, drink in hand. The vodka is quickly having its affect on me; he returns and we settle into small talk . . . .how and why he took this job, his past life and careers, his neighbors. . . I ask him how his date was the night before. "What makes you think I went on a date?" he asks. "Oh, I know you did," I answer. Actually I have no idea if he did or not, but he then proceeds to tell me about it. Again, I am feeling especially naughty and press him for details. . . damn, he is evading, and quickly turns the discussion to our own first meeting the previous Wednesday night. He said he wanted to kiss me from the first moment I entered the bar. Why did it take so long for him to do so I wonder? "I wasn't quite sure you wanted me to." "You shouldn't be so timid," I tell him, which brings a grin to his face and then his lips to mine. There is nothing timid about his kiss; it is strong, passionate, hungry . . . his hand slides down my arm and then to my thigh, and suddenly he stops, pulls back. "I'm sorry his says; we better stop." We better stop?! I'm a bit confused for a moment. . . did I misread his intentions for the night? I know he was enjoying the moment by the appearance of the incredible hard-on that was evident through his pants. "I told you I would be a complete gentleman if you came over," he reminds me. Oh, he is good. . . good and evil. Hmmmm, might scrap my original plan to play with this man; he is not as timorous or innocent as he pretended. "I guess it all depends on your definition of a gentleman," I tell him. "And yours is?" And I lean in closer, brushing my lips to the side of his face, "A gentleman is a man that is willing to oblige the wishes and desires of a lady." I don't know if Webster's would agree with my definition, but it got the desired affect I was looking for; I kiss him as my hand falls to the bulge in his pants, and he turns his head to meet my lips and even more eager than before his tongue is explores my mouth. His hands move more daringly in between my thighs, and I continue to stroke his erection through his pants; the man is made of pure stone, and I love it. "Let's take this to the bedroom." No argument from me.  

We enter his bedroom…oh, candles already lit, hmmmm; this man knew exactly where the night was going to lead . . . gentleman my ass! Music is playing as I approach the bed. . .Changes in the House of Flies . . . ah, dark and seductive; I always thought it would be nice to fuck to. . .a smile comes to my lips as the thought crosses my mind. He is behind me now, hands on my waist as he kisses my neck; his hands move down and start working the zipper of my jeans. I turn, he backs up to the wall to watch me wiggle out of the jeans and then my top. Then he pulls me to him, his hand instantly moving to slide my panties to the floor. "Back up to the bed" he says, and I dutifully back up and sit on the edge. "Lay down," and the instant I do, he is kneeling between my legs, and slowly, almost imperceptibly starts kissing and licking my clit. Very nice, almost soothing. . . I unclasp my bra, and toss it to the floor; I sit back up to search for his mouth, to get my own eager hands on him. "No, I am enjoying this; lay back,” he says. At first I ignore him, then in a much more commanding tone, he orders, "LAY DOWN." Mmmmmm. . . I do love a man that is assertive and knows what he wants, so who am I to disobey? His exploration of my pussy becomes much more aggressive as well, but I don't want to cum this early. . . I want to let this build. He must have read my thoughts because he suddenly rises from his knees and plunges his hard cock inside me. The contrast between his soft mouth and tongue with that of his amazingly hard erection takes me by surprise and I gasp. It doesn't matter how often I have been fucked, that first sensation of being filled always takes my breath away and feels so damn incredible.  

He climbs up on the bed and I move toward the center to make room for him. Side by side, he turns me slightly to my right facing away from him, grabs my left leg to lay over him; he enters me again and burys himself deeper and deeper inside of me; each thrust brings an involuntary moan from my lips. He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me closer and to his mouth; our kisses become greedier, insatiable…our tongues urgently exploring. His left hand runs up and down my chest and stomach stopping long enough to squeeze one breast and then the other and pinching my nipples with just enough pressure to send a ripple of pleasure down to my already wet pussy. I take his hand and move it down between my legs, but he replaces his hand with my own. "Do you have any idea how sexy it is to watch YOU touch yourself?" His thrusting speeds up and becomes deeper, and my own pleasure begins to become more than I can deny. . . I can feel my body getting closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy and my legs tense up, and oh fuck, the sweet wonderful release…there is a moment when all senses and reason are just completely cut off and only touch and this one incredible sensation is all that is present. And the sensation is all the better when I am filled with a man's hard yet yielding warm flesh.  

I often need a moment to recover but not this time. I lift myself off of him and roll over to my stomach, drawing my knees underneath me, offering myself to him, and with a few sounds of approval, he is in me once more, thrusting himself in me more furiously. Oh, he has hit that hidden place inside of me that makes my legs tremble. . . I feel myself draw closer to orgasm again, I can't quite make it over the top…I try to relax, go with the feeling, submit to it, but the sensation is just too intense and I can't let go, and I find myself inching away from him…not out of pain or discomfort but the intensity of the pleasure. "What do you want me to do for you?" he asks, "just tell me." I know what I want. "On YOUR back" I tell him, this time I am commanding him. True gentleman that he is, he obliges. I straddle him, knees planted firmly on each side of him, and he slides back inside of me. "Your pussy feels so incredible, just incredible," he breathlessly whispers. "No, no, no" I say as I pull off of him, "not right now." "I hate you" he mutters and laughs. But his displeasure soon turns into ecstatic anticipation as he realizes my intent. I kiss him, first teasingly just brushing his lips with my tongue and then more aggressively pressing my mouth onto his, my tongue intertwining with his. "God I love the way you kiss," he exclaims, "I feel like you are fucking me with your mouth." And with that, I leave his mouth behind and slowly leave a trail of kisses down his neck, chest, stomach . . . and the further down I move, the deeper and more frequent his moaning becomes. I skirt my final destination momentarily and lightly kiss and pass my tongue over his inner thighs and then gently taking his balls into my mouth, I suck and pull. . . I won’t taunt him any longer, but move to his cock, hard and ready for my mouth. I move my tongue around the tip before taking the crown into my mouth and begin sliding my mouth further and further down his shaft while I stroke him with my hand, cup his balls, finger his ass. Among his exclamations of pleasure comes a command again, not quite as forceful as before, but with definite intent, "I want to fuck you."  

This time as he slides inside me, I let him stay. It is such an unbelievable turn on to be grinding my pussy down on the shaft of a man and being about to control the movement, watching him, having him look at me and knowing that I have the power to bring pleasure. I sit up erect above him, slowly moving myself up and down with circular strokes. I take one of his hands while I move my hips unconsciously in rhythm to the music in the background and move his hand to my ass. He smiles, not sure what that means. . . suddenly he has produced a bottle of lube from somewhere and is pouring it out over his fingers, and then puts his hand back where I had placed it. . .slowly, gently, he slides his fingers into my ass, and the feeling is fantastic, but if that is not enough he then takes one of my own hands, pours the lube over my fingers and places them over my already sensitive clit. "Oh fuck, that is so hot, so sexy" I can't speak . . I have three incredible sensations going at once; the stimulation is overpowering. . . I can't think, can't form a rational thought. . . my body feels like jelly, my knees cannot support the intensity any longer. . I collapse and fall to the side of him, drawing him over and on top of me. I have no strength left; it's his turn to work . . . thankfully he is accommodating. As he drives himself into me, burying his cock further and further into me, my hands go exploring. Over his back, first just caressing then with a little nail scratching gently down the length of him and then one hand goes further down, searching and then discovering what I was looking for. . . just a tease with my fingertips around his ass brings a "If you continue doing that I am going to cum." And since when is cumming a bad thing? So I continue. . . . and he does.  

But the evening is not over. . .we talk. . . about numerous things, and as we do, I am aware that he is stroking my body again, and I am suddenly conscience of the fact that my hips are moving slowly, pressing up against his leg; I don't know how long I have been doing it, and I apologize feeling like he must think me a bitch or queen in heat. "No, it's sexy," he assures me, and turns to kiss me. Soon the kissing brings us back to where we began. . . he entering me from the side, leg over his body. I grab his thigh to draw him closer. . . deeper inside of me. I realize that my nails are now sinking deeper into the flesh of his thigh; he doesn't seem to notice, but I try to let up just to find myself digging them into him again. I release one hand from his thigh and put it to his lips; he sucks on them briefly before I move them between my legs. "Yes," he hoarsely whispers, "touch yourself." And for the second, maybe third time of the night, I feel myself getting completely lost in the wave of unbelievable pleasure. After my orgasm has passed, I don't mean to, but move away from him. . . I need a moment to recover. . . for my heartbeat to slow. . . for the sensitivity between my thighs to subside. I roll over to my stomach; he doesn't seem to mind. . . maybe he came himself? I'm not sure, and I feel bad that I was so lost that I didn't notice. We lay like that, me on my stomach, he on his back, side by side. I am not sure what we said, didn't say; it was just comfortable lying there in silence with just the music playing in the background. 

After a few minutes?. . . .I lost all sense of time, so I had no concept of it, but it seemed like minutes. . . He rolls over in my direction, lying by my side and ever so slightly strokes my leg bringing me back from the plateau I was settling in. He grabs for the lube again and begins to pour it slowly over my ass. . . the feel of the warm liquid dripping down between by cheeks brought my senses fully awake, so I was more than ready for him when I lifted my hips off the bed to meet him. There just are not enough adjectives to describe the feel of his cock gliding effortlessly into me. As amazing as it might have been for me, my mind was solely on him. . . I worked my hips, driving them back and forth to meet his thrusting. "Fuck, fuck. . . fuck," he repeated. I could feel him inside me reaching his climax. . . that second just before a man cums always excites me and sends its own quake through my body. . . I don't know what it is exactly. . . the forcefulness of his final thrust, the raw primal act itself, the increased hardness that seems to occur the very second of the first pulse of his ejaculation? I am not sure, but it was there when he came, and it was pure sweetness and satisfaction . . . for both of us.

We continued to lay in his bed, bodies intertwined, an exchange of kisses, but it was late. . .very late and my drive was not going to be a short one. We dressed, and as we entered back into the living room I said something, not sure what, I don't remember, but it warranted a smack on the ass from him. I must have made slight sound of pleasure because he immediately asked if I like that because he did and something to think about for next time? He said I should bring my toys with me, which I had to admit I didn't have any, so he said that he might have to buy me some so I could use them on myself while he watched. And who am I to refuse gifts?  

We kissed good-bye at my car, my legs still trembling from the night. And damn it, sometimes it is so nice to be so wrong.