Wr1tt3n0ne

Bunches and bunches
2017-06-01 13:49:12 (UTC)

Working Up a Watery Vortex

I fancy myself a something of a lake, or swimming hole. I have a bit of depth, or at least I aspire to have some and there can be things going on beneath my surface. But no where is this more apt then when I stir up my depths into a watery vortex. Then you can see the bottom of me and my thought and gaze along my sides as I am whipped up into action.


In every relationship I have my times when all I want is to be seen and be known. To take bold action and physically go after my desires begin to agitate me into movement. The time for talk, as they say, is over. These are the moments indelibly fused into my memories. I rarely fail to attain what I want. I take it that this direct action typically unmires what for me can devolve into a cerebral exercise. I spend a great deal of time and energy exploring my options, understanding of the other person, life in general, (yes, there are those of us who still do this) and some of the time it stymies me into constant planning and no execution.

So these moments when I am moved and I move another. These are like a vortex to me. I whip myself up and conversation instead of action becomes unthinkable. The memories of these times are ones when all that I can think of is how to get close to my lover, silence them, and let my desires bubble up. I have kissed them mid sentence, entwined my fingers in theirs and pulled their hand in mine, um places, and yes, told them to shut up in husky, needy whisper. I've pulled hair to set heads back to devour necks, I've raked my teeth across lips, necks, delicately raining nibbles onto the softest of places. I am fully human in these glorious moments, animal, basal and fully-actualized. I think only in terms of how to feast more, longer, and please deeper. My skin is alight with warmth at merely the thought of it. I have scratched backs in my need, left half moons on my palms and teeth marks on my own lips, caught up in the moment of being purely impassioned.

I try not to think how many times I have heard my lover's sigh at finally having the best of me. How often they try to find this in me when I am all talk and no do. How each and every one of them has mentioned it as my finest, most loved attribute, this willingness on my part to abandon myself in these glorious moments. I know I can be fickle, I feel it myself. Even when I am happy I can be morose about things outside myself. I can complicate myself and my relationships. I can seem to have a devout love of complications and complexities. But these moments when I am only action and compassionate needs, are simplifying, longed for vacations and explorations of something I keep largely to myself.

I am animal. I thrive when passion is present. I can completely yield myself to it and I long to do so regularly. I am fully at home in these moments. Peaceful while I delight in consuming my lovers and being consumed by them. Do you see the bottom of me?




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