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Warning: this is graphic. Language and imagery. If it’s gonna bother you, I’d stop here. Talking a little x rated. But if that’s your steeze, enjoy!

Here we go…the guilt the remorse. Fuck…I shouldn’t have done that last night…Seems like after every time we fuck, things get more difficult between us. I smack my forehead as I sit up in my bed. The storyline in my brain overflows with why’s and curse words. It makes me feel like an asshole; my eyes begin to swell up in tears. No! No crying…fuck why do I want to cry?! What do I have to be upset about it takes two right? Right so calm the fuck down. I know why I want to cry. Because I want him so bad…I want to be with him so bad and he’s not mine to have. Nope no he’s not but I start to think how it would be but that’s pointless we’ve been down that road too many times. I pick up my phone to check the time. Fuck I gotta get up and move I have shit to do today. I throw the covers off of me, revealing I’m covered by only panties. The light pounding in my head says to me I need to drink some tea and eat. Ugh fuck me…I don’t feel like doing shit. Bathroom first. Go get a good look at myself but I can’t even make eye contact with my own reflection long enough. I keep remembering the night before. I shake my head realizing it’s mostly me that initiates crossing the line.

I gaze upon him too long, admire his face, adore his reactions that I fall into a hole that can be hard to get out of. The cold seat on my ass snaps me out of my trance. My skin crawls and shudders as I recollect climbing on top of him, topless, not in disgust but mostly in shame. It always starts off so innocently. He went to talk to his mom while I put on a new Netflix show. In efforts of to keep the night so simple, I stayed in his desk chair even thought I wanted to lie down. I was tired while Jack Daniels danced through my veins. About 10 minutes later, he reappears, showing me he bought a ticket for an event. He lays on the bed but I stay seated, trying to fight the urge to slither across the room. The fight is lost within a movement. I cuddle up into his warmth, rest my nose up against his neck. His fragrance is one of my favorite things about him as I groan inwardly. He pulls me in closer, rubbing my arm. My loneliness gives a quick sigh of relief, missing the feeling of being held. I can’t remember what the conversation even was about. His voice was fading as I gawked at his lips move and smirk. That fucking mouth. And the way he looked upon me…like he was telling me to go for it. Do it, I’m begging you. Our breath inches apart, my body was heavy with lust and anticipation. I kept up the act, laughing and conversing, while my pussy quivered. Quit looking at his mouth. But also don’t look into his eyes. Where the hell else can I look?! Blue walls, ikea headboard, his cat sniffing at our beer bottles with curiousity. Back at his lips. I’m so fucked.

Somehow the conversation has died in laughter. The air is still as we twitch, hesitant to make the first move. I feel as if I’m sinking into the bed, the weight of yearning crushing my lungs and soon, I’m done. I have to…the microwave beeps, alerting that my tea is ready to be made. My thumb runs along my bottom lip. We’re so fucked. When I got home, I apologized for advancing. He said not to worry about it. I cherish the state of our friendship more than the sex, the lust I have for pleasing him. But the more we fall into this temptation, the more it hinders and breaks the foundation. Pain shoots through my chest. Without our knowing, we became emotionally attached, love that had friendly intention escalated quickly. The mug burns my hands. I deserve it.

He says I’m trying to be good for the thousandth time in our life span of fucking around. Be good then, I retort, knowing that “being good” is so far gone. How many times have I heard, “behave,” or “you’re so bad for me,” with him still continuing after. If you don’t want to kiss me, stop. If you don’t want to go down on me, stop. If you don’t want my lips around the base of your dick…our lips lock, tongues taste and teeth bite down on upper and bottom lips. Our kissing is my most favorite thing, second is the way he eats me. I hope he licks my hole with eagerness. Kisses my lips tenderly but fucks me hard like he’s been missing this pussy. Ugh no, no! I need to stop thinking like this! The pinch of my left nipple makes me cry out and the guilt vanishes for good. My drunken haze makes the sex seem lazy, lackluster as I recall him grabbing me by the waist, jerking me closer to slide further into me. His taste lingers in the back of my throat. I call out with each thrust.

My walls still feel him inside of me as I slide my jeans up on my hips and I fight to touch myself. Something about the ghost of a good fuck makes me want to slide my fingers in and out of me but knowing I won’t have the same orgasm stops me. Besides I have somewhere to be in…fuck like now. Abruptly, I stick my barefeet in the first pair of shoes I see, glance myself over and run out the door. I don’t give a shit of my appearance.

Legs in the air, he licks and tastes me as if I’m the greatest he’s ever swallowed. Earnest and eager but with the most satisfaction. I watch him like a prime time tv show, well scripted and produced. I lightly push his head away, signal for him to resume pounding me. He concludes with one long cleansing lick… I wish I could go back to feeling no remorse. Those times were long gone after the 5th or 10th time we collapsed into one another. We just got frustrated and angry about what we were putting ourselves through. Grown ass people and we knew we needed to stop after the very first time. I felt at one moment we were going to stop being friends…it could still happen. I park in front of the building. I coax myself into forgetting, burying the night before, the pain all into depths of me.

Fuck it man. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck…

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Tumblr writing prompt: cheating.

And if I could have it any other way, I’d have him in my bed. But this world isn’t perfect; it’s grimey and crooked and confusing. He sits in a chair in the corner of the hotel room, watching me undress as Interpol plays in the background. I like the way his gaze feels on my shoulder blades as I slip my bra straps down my arms. I can feel his urge to eat me up. The danger of being desired is becoming addicted to the game. My husband has never desired me like my men do. He has never taken me, pushed me up against the wall, torn a skirt off of me. But these men, my men, feed me sexually. Once my bra hits the ground, he charges at me, the chair his the wall with a loud thud from the momentum. He tackles me onto the bed, biting and kissing at my neck and collarbone. No my husband could never want me this much for he lacks passion. And without his passion, I remain unfaithful.

Random writing prompt

He opened the door to find her standing there, crying. 

He opened the door to find her standing there, crying. She was nude, dress blanketed her bare feet. He was curious as to why she was standing there, naked and crying, but he wasn’t sure how to approach her. She must’ve heard him come in right? But she didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge him. He stood awkwardly in the doorway and watched her. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could call out her name she says,

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

That took him aback some. “Wh-what?”

“I was here, ready for you to take me and I just bursted into tears. I don’t know why.”

She started to calm herself, her breath slowing. He had spoken to her early that morning. She seemed fine then, wanting to come over as soon as he could but he had errands to run. She didn’t say what for and didn’t seem urgent. A bit of guilt ran over his skin; maybe he should have came when she asked. Seeing her cry like this pained him. But what happened? 

“Was it something I did? Maybe I should have came when you said…”

“No, no…you’re fine. I just think I’m under a lot of stress but not doing anything about it you know? Like just suppressing it…”

Finally, he leaves her doorway to blanket her in comfort. He still wasn’t too sure what was going on. She hadn’t told him much about what was going on with anything but maybe he wasn’t on that level yet. They only had been seeing each other for a few weeks now. He met her in a Half Price shuffling through romance novels. He gently swayed her back and forth as she composed herself. 

“So is that why you called me? To relieve some stress?” He asks with a smile, hoping it would lighten the mood. 

She laughs, “Actually yeah…just wanted to beat you up some.” 

“Ah I see, I see…I don’t mind being your punching bag…especially in your bed.”

He ran his hands down her soft arms, showing that he was there for her. He was in no mood to have sex with her. He felt right now, in this moment, she needed way more than that. In the few weeks of knowing her, he grew to care for her and he wanted to show her that. It’s not always about physical intimacy. He was hoping she could read that right now. And right then, she squeezed him while nuzzling into his chest. There it is: the next level. He steps away to pick her dress from the floor.

“Here. Put this on. Let’s go have a drink. If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”

She grins as she takes the straps of the dress from his fingers. She slips it on and says, 

“Yeah actually that’d be great.”

Off the dome #1

One of those lazy Saturday’s…you know the ones where everything is still. Calm. Even the leaves aren’t rustling in their trees. They lay in bed, windows open, letting fresh air roll over them. Hiatus Kaiyote plays lowly from the corner of her bedroom while she watches him lay beside her. Eyes closed, he laid upon his back, both hands on chest, fingers drumming along with the beat to the song. She grins. She could stare at him for days on end. She longed for moments like this with him. Their schedules didn’t allow them to be this relaxed let alone be allotted this time alone together like this. A bit of luck was on their side today. 

“I’m enjoying the fuck out of this band by the way.”

He breaks their silence and looks over to her smiling. She smiles back with a chuckle. That smile of his flowed through her, made her stomach tingle. She wants to trace those smile lines.

“Good I’m glad. I stumbled upon them…thought their name was interesting…”

He turns to lie on his left side, propping his head in his hand. He reaches for her hair with his right. He begins to play with it, rolling the strands between the tips of his fingers. For some reason, she wanted to blush when he admired her. Something about the softness in his eyes when he looked upon her…it was as if he had never seen anything like it. Or that he just really loved what he gazed upon. She would never know how he really felt, no. That he couldn’t tell her for some reason but she could see some of it in that gaze. Just him being in her presence made her vulnerable. Her body felt warm, sensitive to his touch…she wanted him on her skin all the time. He was soft, gentle enough but still could be stern and rough. His fingers left her hair to journey up to her face. They linger about her cheek and trail down to her chin. 

“Hey look at me.”

She did as she was told. When their eyes met she squirms. Sometimes it is too intense to handle but in a good way. She wishes she could read him a little better. Really she wished he would just communicate a little better. 

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.”

The agonizing gaze broken as she wants to collapse into herself. His fingertips forces her chin back up at him. They fall back into the intensity and sincerity of his feelings. 

“You make me…” She starts but doesn’t know how to finish the statement. He makes her feel all sorts of things that she wish she could say in just one word. That one word could finalize everything and make her feel more at ease but no such word exists. She bites down on her bottom lip, feeling silly about being a tad speechless in front of him. She giggles. She isn’t feeling like herself. She is small, exposed. 

“When you bite that lip like that.” 

His lips were upon hers before she could even say, “yeah I know…” He is always taking what he wants with no second guesses. This is where she loses herself completely. Control is now gone and she is growing. She loves to taste him, have him in her mouth, devour him if she could. Nothing collided. Everything was so smooth and befitting as if their mouths were made for each other. Home. The sound of the world outside was the soundtrack. Birds chirping. A dog barking. The air moving. It was very much perfect but perfect doesn’t last forever. Soon reality will strike and it will all be over. She runs her tounge across his top lip, savoring every line and crease. A sigh of pleasure flows from his lips. And when it’s over he comes home again to celebrate a reunion. Let’s live here for always. This is our home. But before she becomes too comfortable he abandons her. 

“Mmm…shit. We should stop.” He says as he runs his fingers underneath his lip. 

She collapses back onto the bed, regaining her wits about her. She’s slightly dizzy and for some reason out of breath. Drunk off his taste. She rubs her eyes confused as to why she feels the way she does. How long were they locked in? Wasn’t she breathing? 

“Why? What’s wrong? Do you have something to do?”

“No just…man I was drowning there for a minute.” He laughs and she laughs too. “Damn we were swept up! I think I stopped breathing.”

She laughs harder as she reaches for her phone to play something new. So it wasn’t only her. She begins to play Ta-ku. He lays next to her, chest rising and falling quickly. He reaches for her hand and plays with her fingers. The air is getting cooler. The noise outside begins to pick up a bit. Things were getting a little busier outside their world. As for in their world, things were becoming still again. He drums the beat to the song on his chest. She watches. They resume their lazy Saturday.