I’m Special
“I think I fell in love with you when called me an asshole. Crazy, right? And I very well could be an asshole, depending on who you ask. Anyway, everyone always said you were the sweetest person. You got along with everyone. You helped our classmates out without ever appearing annoyed. Somehow we ended up sitting close by. There were few people I talked to and you were the one I wanted to talk to the most. You were so cute! You fidgeted with pens all the time and your smile was always small and slightly crooked. You hunched over your desk laughing when something was extremely funny. You didn’t do that too often, but you did it around me the most. ‘I’m special’, I thought. I was 100% delusional, I know but, could you blame me? I liked you so much and I didn't even know it! One day, I said something, something you didn’t like. I made your shoulders tense and your eyes hardened to a deep chestnut from its usual soft caramel. “You’re an asshole,” you said and turned your body away from me. I remember my jaw dropping in shock and my heartbeat building in intensity in time with my breaths. I was scared yet enlightened at the same time. ‘I’m special’, I knew. Because you cared about what I said more than other people. You showed a side to me that none of our classmates had seen. I was special and the need to keep that place in your life outweighed any overdue assignments I had. Priorities, am I right?
We didn’t talk for the rest of the day or a few days after that. I knew what that empty feeling in my chest was. You were missing. We still sat near each other, what were we supposed to do? Change our unassigned assigned seats? Head spinning and ears ringing, I gave you a note crumpled and damp from the unyielding grip I had on it. I remember it very clearly. It wrote: ‘I’m so sorry for what I said. I crossed a line and made an awful ‘joke’ about something I really had no business speaking about. I’m sorry that I upset you. I just want you to know that I truly am sorry.’ It’s not really a great apology, but I was 17–I hadn’t apologized for much at that time and I didn’t really know what “accountability” was. But by some miracle you read the note and started talking to me again and you never stopped talking to me. And since then I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Summer Love
Oh, but did my love for you emerge and vastly grow
When first I spied you across the room amidst the summer heat.
Within my heart, it was enlightenment as if I did know
That was your presence that made my soul most complete.
There is no other who can fill the emptiness of summer days
With lingering songs of tenderness, truth, and desire
As you, my love, have done for me in all life’s ways.
You are my love, my life, my heart – all to which I aspire.
Sing to me, and we will dance as one beneath the sun,
And I will whisper sweet words with a kiss
Until the moment we are spent and our dance is done
As eagerly we steer toward the eclipse of eternal bliss.
Oh, dearest blossom of summer love, I hold you dear,
Pray, keep me close, forever in your sight and always near.
Mr. and Mrs. Williams
"I don't want to go to another gala dinner," I groan begrudgingly as the gold earrings slip into their holes.
My husband turns around with a deep sigh to look at me. He knows I hate this part of his job. I don't like being the arm candy, meant to be seen and not heard. I find it to be demoralizing, and he knows this. I have two bachelor's degrees and a master's... who cares if he's a Governor?
His hands toy with his neck tie, securing it properly as he stalks over where I am sat. I watch with curiosity as his hands smooth over my bare shoulders. We're both looking at one another through the mirror I'm sat before, eyes boring into eyes, mouths shut.
"I know that. That is why I didn't ask you to come; I told you to come," he says simply, his tone is laced with the slap he wishes he could act on.
I roll my eyes at the response and my curiosity is satisfied. Should have known he was going to be an asshole.
He walks back into the walk in closet we share, presumably slipping his shoes on and leaving me to zip my gown on my own.
"James will be there!" He yells from afar. Now his tone is laced with malice.
My body freezes under my own judging stare through the mirror, but I manage to clear my throat to speak. "Oh?"
Is that the best you have? He clearly knows, so there is no since in playing dumb.
"Oh?" He mocks me, opening the closet door to show him sitting on the ottoman, tying his shoes as I had thought he was. "Don't play stupid withe me, darling. We both know how much you just adore my best friend."
Again, I'm frozen. What am I to say? What am I to do? He's playing a game with me-- no, he's playing my game with him. The game that I had started with him when I found him sleeping with his campaign assistant-- a truly original move for a Governor if you ask me.
I zip my dress as he chortles at our malfeasance, slinking his arms through his black suit jacket while bringing me a pair of heels. "What's that thing you liked to tell me when we were campaigning? Fight fire with fire? Consider this a checkmate, babydoll. He'll like the way these look wrapped around his body," he taunts calmly, mouth merely centimeters from my ear as he sets the red shoes on the ground beside my feet.
I blink blankly for a moment before bending down silently-- there is nothing more for me to say-- and slipping the shoes on.
As I stand to my new height, he looks at me with a big smile, arm bent as he offered it to me. "Ready to go, Mrs. Williams?"
-- -- -- --
Now, I'm standing beside him, arm slinked around his, fake smile plastered on my face, vocal cords bored from not being used. Laughter erupts around us as Gov. Williams talks about his State's newest bills; though, I'm not sure how the topic is humorous, truth be told, I'm not even paying attention.
My conscious focuses on the voices around me. My ears perk up and search for the calming and familiar voice of my husband's best friend. Hope was nearly lost as the time ticks by, the end of the gala nearing, when I hear the laugh that melts every ounce of stress out of my body. My heart swells as I see him walking closer, his eyes focus on mine as our smiles grow.
He lands beside me, arms wrapping around my shoulders in a friendly hug while announcing his arrival to everyone around us.
"There he is! What took you so long? We were starting to get worried about you, weren't we, darling?" My husband offers, his hand on my lower back as the audience slides away to strike up a new conversation, leaving me alone with my husband and James.
I clear my throat before responding, mentally hoping the past few hours of being a mute wouldn't affect the use of my vocal cords now. "Yes, we were."
James smirks at the meek response, knowing I was in Hell at this gala. "I was running a little late," he states, looking around and smiling to those listening in around us before bending closer to the two of us and whispering, "I really didn't want to be here tonight."
My husband's laugh echos throughout the hall, his hand coming down on James' shoulder as the other goes to his stomach as if he's in pain from laughing-- My husband is always coming in with the theatrics."I'll tell you what, you see the misses home and I'll tell everyone you had food poisoning and couldn't stay."
My heart manages to leap to my throat while also falling to my ass as he says this. "What?" I question, looking up at my husband in utter shock. He is definitely winning this game of ours.
He fakes an inquisitive, worried look, the hand on my back running up to my shoulder as he gives an Oscar worthy performance of being concerned. "Didn't you say you wanted to go home? I'd hate to torture you, my love. Let James take you home, I'm sure he will take good care of you... right James?"
James is nodding softly, equally as confused as I am, but seemingly not as nervous because James had to put his fist in his pocket to hide his excitement.
I bite my tongue as I wrap my arm around James', allowing him to guide me out of the gala hall while my husband stood still, waving to us as I glance back at him.
It felt too easy which made me extremely uneasy.
I raised Hell, froze it over, and then rose it again when I caught him cheating on me... I only forgave him for the sake of the campaign. There was no way he would knowingly allow this to happen, especially with his best friend.
Nonetheless, James and I neared the front door when we heard my husband clearing his throat and getting the attention of the crowd before yelling, "Isn't that so cute, everyone? The love of my life is leaving to go home with the love of hers!"
The Hike
you tell your husband it’s a conference in Utah, good old non-threatening Utah. I tell my wife there’s a 77 Lincoln continental town coupe I’m interested in buying and I have to see it for myself.
Now, you and i are walking in the desert. we're trying to find a good place for a picnic. there's a blanket and a bottle of red wine in my backpack. we find a valley where rock cliffs are on one side, burgeoning sunset on the other. it's hot, pleasant breeze. i spread the blanket on a flattish stretch of sandstone near some juniper. we sit, take in the sights, smile at each other, laugh at the fact we haven't spoken to each other in a bit. the sights have left us speechless.
i open the wine, spill a little over my hand. we both laugh. i lick a little off, then offer it to you. you take my hand and wrap your lips around the edge of my palm, breathe hot breath onto my skin. i lean in and our foreheads touch, smiling. "the wine?" you ask. "oh yes!" i get back to the task, pour in the less-than-elegant plastic cups. we clink them (or clunk them) and i swallow my mouthful, you don't, you puff your cheeks out and have a strange look on your face. you beckon and lean in. immediately you kiss me, part your lips and let the wine flow into my mouth. i kiss you back harder, open my mouth wide and accept your wine and your tongue as we fall backward onto the blanket.
the weather is perfect. we kiss and my hands slide beneath your shirt. you arch your back as my hand glides over your stomach and up to your chest. with my other hand i undo your bra from the back. with a bodywave shrug, it slides free and i touch your tender warm breasts, your nipples firming up. you let out a moan and kiss me harder. i break the kiss and lick your neck, plant several kisses on the way to your ear. at the same time, your hands have moved down to my belt and zipper. you rub the growing mass under the cloth, teasing me before you unbutton, unzip, and slide your hand down to discover my firm, smooth cock. a bead of wetness on the tip has gotten on your thumb and your palm, which you use to pump me into a frenzy.
i glide my hands down and undo your shorts. you stretch up on your toes while i push down your cloth and panties. as it bunches at your ankles, you gingerly step out of them, rotate your body around and lower your nethers down onto my mouth. i lick and taste you, grabbing your thighs, dragging my tongue up and back, breathing hot breath and glistening your warm, tender divide. you let out a gasp and lower yourself your mouth onto me, humming out the remainder of your breath, which causes me to hum my pleasure into you. i taste you, i lick you, i want you.
you rise up from me and we kiss again, tongues swirling in a heated and heavy delirium. you claw at my shorts to get enough access as you lower yourself onto me. your vulva is pulsing and wet, my cock flows into you as if there's nothing we need do but join and connect. we lay like that for a moment, then we begin to move in rhythm, up and down, our bodies becoming a the most beautiful factory machinery of flesh. our pulses quicken, our breath comes in desperate moans as we increase our speed. i look into your eyes and you into mine. we see an expression like pain, but it's ecstasy, a gathering of sensation so wonderful it doesn't have words yet. your eyes widen, then clamp shut as you climax, once, then another smaller one like an encore, as you still bounce up and down, but in slower increments. i feel the walls of your vagina flex and release as you pant and moan. a shiver goes through you as you collapse onto me and we embrace. a cool, clammy but pleasant feeling as our sweaty bodies press together in post-coital bliss.
we lay like that for what seems an hour. when we open our eyes, it's much darker and there's a tremendous sunset splashed across the vista. we barely touched the wine. we gather up and walk back to the car, smiling and in silent knowledge, the place, that valley, a witness to our tryst, and no one else, least of all our partners.
My First Love
I looked up into her face with adoration in my eyes. She gazed back at me with the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. My heart began to beat faster as she reached for my hand, and held it in her own. I grasped it tightly, lest she let go. I let my eyes speak my love for her; my overflowing love. She was my all: my very life! Without her I would die, lonely and afraid. But as long as she held me close, I would be just fine.
She leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, "I love you!"
I tried to speak, but the words just wouldn't come. But, that didn't stop me from looking at her with devotion and a look that meant, "'til death do us part!"
Once more she drew me closer, and whispered, "You'll always be my little baby; even when you've grown..."
I gazed up at her and replied in my heart, "And I will always remember you as my first love... Dearest of Mothers!"
Tormented
I labeled him a crush for two long years. Those years are gone, yet I haven't said a single hi. I just loved him and stood there like marble and stone. I know that I love him now but was my love a phantom in the past, flickering in and out of shadows and shades?
Is it still a phantom? I believe it is not. I will now label it bright but cold.
They say he is not beautiful but how can they? His soul is so pure and so beautiful that even a blind can see it! Soft and light, his purity is darker than the deepest depths of the deepest abyss; so prominent, so beautiful.
I will label my love an abyss now; unfathomable and infinite. It is undying and it drips like ice, ladled in my every move, and every twist.
I crave and I yearn for someone to scream, "Different than all who live upon the world, ethereal fell short to truly describe your love; never to be understood by mortals of life."
My Friday
If I were to describe our love story and time shared, I would say it was like Friday. It was fun, exciting, passionate, and extremely full of emotions. One day we are on cloud nine, and some days we are fighting like animals. Being with you was intoxicating. Your presence was so hard to let go of, invigorating that I craved it when we were apart. You were someone I always looked forward to spending my time with. You were my safe space. We had fun, we had our silent and comfortable days while lying down in bed, and we had our misunderstandings that tested the limits of our emotional and mental capacity. But just like any Friday, when you’re enjoying life, getting drunk, dancing to the beat, laughing out loud without a care, a day full of exhilarating moments has come to an end. And when it did, it hurt. It hurt like hell knowing those crazy Fridays would never happen again. Our adventure has ended, and just like having withdrawals, it made me go wild, crying, gasping for air, and battling emotions I don’t want to feel. But I know, deep within, letting go of you would lead me to better days. I know our end would create a hole inside me while slowly building me up again. You are the kind of love I will always long for, crave, remember, and cherish. You are my Friday, my bliss, my adventure. It is tragic that our time has ceased when I thought our time would be never-ending. But I hope we both have better days. I hope you and I get to meet our Sunday love. The kind of love giving us warmth, stability, comfort, and safety.
A Psychopath’s Love.
Her eyes teared in the sunlight. Blood was all over her arms, her shoulders. Her body tensed up when she held his cold, lifeless hand. She slowly closed his bloodshot blue eyes, watching them sparkle one last time.
She stared at him, and started to caress with her right hand. For 15 minutes straight. She noticed his reddish-brown hair, along with his tender yet strong hands. She laid down with him, gazing at the bright orange sky, as police officers gathered at the scene. They ran to where the blood drained, and just took in what had just happened. A knife located in her left hand, the police dragged her away and handcuffed her tightly. "A lover's quarrel," the responding officers murmured.
She had just met him, and this was the man she'd just killed.
Urges
I don't know what's come over me. I've gone years without sex and been perfectly fine, but suddenly that seems to be all I can think about. I feel crazy. I feel obsessed. The guys at my work are young and attractive and do manual labor all day long.
I keep getting these urges, these impulses to do something with one of them. I fantasize about one of them losing control and kissing me in the middle of everyone. I imagine that he confesses to being in love with me and looks at me like no other man ever has. I try to be rational and tell him that he can't possibly love me because he doesn't even know me, but logic and reason go out the window when he kisses me. My blood boils so hot I know I'm going to lose control. I can't contain myself. It's been so long. All I want is to feel him; his toned abs and warm chest. I just want him to wrap his arms around me and lift me onto a railing and devour me with his mouth. I want him to use his teeth to unbutton my shirt and ride his hands up my shorts until he grabs my ass. I want to suck on his neck until my lips imprint on him. I want to bite and play and make him ache for me. I want him to feel like the thrust itself is a release and it's all he can do not to finish before he begins.
As the days pass and the fantasies become more intense, I'm left feeling alone and unsatisfied. I just need a warm, hard body. I just need some sweet release.
Juice and Coffee
I found my true love young
She swept me off my feet
She was smart, quick, and proud
And like juice, cute and sweet
But before I drank her whole
The juice spilled on the floor
One moment she was a glass-half-full
The next she was no more
Five long years passed right by
Lonely in love with a ghost
Five long years thirsty for juice
Holding what I love the most
Then one day I reopened my eyes
And wanted to start life anew
If I had to lose my The One
I deserved to find my The Two
On my way I found something
As scarce as hen's teeth
Someone dark, gloomy, and bitter
With faint sweetness underneath
He managed to make me question
My own instilled taste
Instead of pure juice sweetness
It’s the coffee trail I chased
I followed him through thick and thin
Courting for a while
I made him roll his eyes and sneer
And then I made him smile
Now he’s the one who’s in my bed
Even though he’s not my first
My heart and soul belong to him
He finally quenched my thirst
Her picture is still on my wall
To which I forever vow
I’ll remember what I had lost
And protect what I have now