Apple lemonade?

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Why don’t we trust our bodies? What is so wrong in just listening for once? Listen to the way the rhythm decreases. Listen to the body and how it begs for freedom. Are you free? Do you feel free in this? I think this has been something I’ve been struggling with for a while. I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself enough to be ok with decisions when it comes to the matters of the heart. So I make mistakes. And I smile and drift into this facade that somehow, magically things will work themselves out. That the universe understands what’s really needed and what’s really meant for me and somehow, someway I will receive what is coming my way. But, how? If the fear is bigger than the belief, what gets accomplished? What’s the deciding factor that now is the time to move? Are you really free? Every bit of my being says no but my mind is fixated on making lemonade out of apples. Everything says no. But I continue on. And I keep fighting. I keep going as if I have something to prove. As if I am to prove my body wrong. To show that I am capable of suppressing and repressing and formatting and editing myself to fit the likes of another. To finally show that I,too, can be a soft woman of love and submit easily to a man who may not be enough for me. I can lie down and quiet myself for love. I am proving this to my body so that I can move forward with the knowledge that I am able to love monogamously. There is ability in my being to give unselfishly and diminish parts of myself for stability. For security. In the name of a progressing relationship, I am here ready to sacrifice essentials of my being for your love. For you, because I am tired of running around in circles looking for a love that probably doesn’t exist. A love where compatibility and stability coexist as a unification of a passionately intense loving relationship. And I say all that to say…. I’m not even happy. And I have to wonder, why am I even fighting myself? 

Home. 

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Written: December 12,2015 

I would rather stay home and write for the rest of this day. I have so much to say. Mixture of hurt&still feeling ready for more of life. I had sex like a week ago and it was so good. Surprisingly good. I don’t remember the last time I felt the strong urge to keep someone here, just inside me. But sometimes we misread things. And it’s ok. Things happen. At the end of the day something was either gained or lost. You live to learn. I gained more writing material. The feelings are so strong. So very much still alive. You can’t just quit things when you feel like it. That’s why time is so crucial. So you ride it out and let your words mend broken bridges. It’s ok. Sometimes when I pray, I ask the most high to guide me and show me signs. Sometimes I feel the most highs presence and sometimes my prayers get answered. I pray for strength a lot. More than I used to. I gotta phone call the other day and the voice on the other end made my heart stop. “Brittany, don’t you love me?”I thought we agreed to live separate lives? Conversations of babies and remember that one night when we… The memories. Your voice. Here I am again. Empty promises and my heart in your hand. I asked you to stop. It’s been 3 yrs. You’re hurting me with your version of loving me. How can you? What am I? I hate questions. Because you have to ask them and it doesn’t matter if you already know the answer, to hear and feel and then to assume are all 3 very different sensations. Every now and then I lose control. I can’t deal with everything at once. It’s too much. I’m too sensitive. I would rather stay home today and just write. I need time to heal. But I have to work and smile for my patients. I would rather just stay home. 

Delicious fantasies 

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I forgot how delicious it feels to wanna devour someone. The teasing. The wanting. The craving. Positioning yourself under the covers, sliding in and out and imagining how good it would be to feel them right now. Early mornings always seem to be the time the yearnings are insatiable. Wanting to feel hands roaming freely, fingers playfully tracing the panty line and just lying there silently begging to feel them. Soft kisses on the nape of the neck as the heart beats fasten at the height the excitement. “Tease me” I wanna whisper. It’s such a forgotten skill. I wanna beg. I wanna be merciless at the tips of your fingers. I want dams to break as you drive me insane. Bring me to the edge. Demand my thighs to part and kiss me. Kiss me softly, kiss me slowly but kiss me to the point my back is arching. And then, stop. Just stop. Make her cry a little and then taste it once more. 
All day at work this is all I could think of. This morning I used both hands trying to find a cure for this fever. Nipples poking through my shirt and I just kept mouthing your name. I wanted you so bad this morning. There was an aching for your pressure. I had to take care of it the best way I could. So I made myself cum 2x before work. But even that couldn’t stop the fantasies. 

Hands intertwined in hair and the sounds of lips smacking filled my ears. Soft movements of tongue and fingers carefully finding their way around, I wanna scream and tell you to take me. I want it all. All of it daddy. I wanna feel the thickness. Fill me tonight. I can give you kisses from within. I’ll moan my appreciation in your ear. Just take me. 

Mornings are meant for cumming. 
So when you coming over?

Strawberry kisses. 

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It was raining that evening. 
I remember the sky turning gray. 
The clouds were full and ready to nourish the grounds below. 
I left the window open. 
The softness of raindrops echoing through the apartment. 
It’s a game of cat and mouse we played. 
Taunting and teasing until the water began to overflow. Any idea how soft the flesh becomes under stress? It’s reminiscent of a flower blooming underneath the sunshine. The flesh is warm and tender. It yearns for the attention of fingertips. 
Hesitation met first with thoughts of secrets becoming exposed. The excitement lies in our escapes. 
I knew how tainted this could all be. 
But we’re all so very selfish in what the bare flesh wants. 
Consequences mean nothing under the haze of passion. The sky faded to a richer shade of gray. Few stars appeared but were hiding in between the clouds. 
I smiled as my heart began to pound. 
The sensation of new is mesmerizing. Euphoric in nature. Exploring new land. 
Exciting to the touch. 
Soft, succulent breast waiting for the fullness of your lips to enjoy them.  Fingers ready to be submerged. 
I wanted him so bad. 
All the teasing was wearing me down. 
Even the breath against skin was causing waters to rise. I normally can keep it together but there was something…. 
Something too big to ignore. 
So we made our way… 
It’s always so smooth the first time undressing. 
The mouth slightly parted moist with desire. It was like in the blink of an eye I was exposed and ready to be taken. 
I laid there ready to receive.  
Ready to feel. Ready to gasp at the intensity between us. 
I was ready for him… 
I felt his fingers reaching inside. 
Warming me up. 
Stretching me. Expanding me. Prepping me for all of him.  I want him so bad 
I’m begging silently for this man 
“Please” I whisper. Grabbing my thighs, 
Trail of wet kisses he’s leaving down my back. He’s driving me insane. Legs trembling with anticipation
. 
Finally…
He wraps his lips around me 
And begins to say all the things to make me smile…

Lovers rules 

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Artwork: Isabel Munoz 

I really want to talk about the way you kissed me the other night. How you kissed me… I think that’s why I’m so overwhelmed. It’s trying to make things black and white and when shades of cream and ivory begin to appear, don’t you think it gets confusing what we’re asking for? Intimacy with no strings attached. I’m not downplaying causal interactions by no means. Are we not a few levels above just casual interactions though?  I ask you to give yourself, freely. Every inch of you is taken and savored. My God, you’re beautiful in how willing you are to surrender to my selfish needs. Lines don’t blur when “I’m yours”  sets sail in your ears? We set rules for clarifications. No misunderstandings. Guidelines to keep us inside lines. To keep from over reaching. Over stepping boundaries. Why do you think we have boundaries? Placing these invisible limitations on ourself and those in our surroundings in justification of comprehension. It’s easier to follow the rules and it just gets confusing when you break them. So when the tables turned and it was given back to me as if it’s my comfort zone I’m asking you to step into, the answer is yes, this is what will make me feel comfortable. This is what will keep me in line. This is what will remind me those lips are not mine. Applying the rules lets you know things can get messy. I like romance and passion, how many times have you not confused yourself in the lines of fire? I’m asking to only dance with these concepts, not to have realities form. What fun is reality for lovers anyways? It’s fantasies we feed. Just like the fantasy you fed me with your lips. All I could mouth was the word “how”. How are you so good at this? What do these intense kisses mean? Why are you forcing me to think deeper into your lips? Questions never amount to much in our world. We leave them there, unanswered. Forgotten. Because the moment these questions are asked, there lies the moment we break the rules and I begin to look for in ways you’ll never appear. 

I want you. 

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I got tired of upping the ante. Needing more vibrations. Deeper vibrations. Different vibrations. Different wavelengths. I wanted to feel dizzy and euphoric. The body needed to be twisted and tested. There was a necessary sense of pain that was required to convince that the mind was not creating another fantasy not within reach. Each new level brought less and less satisfaction. Rolling around in an empty bed with my hands between my legs. It just wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t fun. There were tears of frustration that formed even when the body climaxed. A few seconds of intensity and no warm kisses to prolong this feeling. My body was no longer reacting to the thought of self love. My body was tired of itself. Tired of the ins and out of AA batteries in the middle of the night. What a bore. What a sad tired bore when thoughts of masturbation just don’t do it. Did I stop loving myself the right way? Did I love myself too much? Too often? I know the love wasn’t intense. It was temporary. For the moment, you know? Just to take the edge off of not having a warm, muscular, sweaty hard body next to me. Did it really take the edge off though? Did it? Mornings would come and I, still in the heat of my own thoughts, would rise angrily. Annoyed. Irritated because I can not do the one thing my body needed. What the body needed was out of my reach. So the decision came in the middle of another exhausted session of dissatisfaction. I grabbed my phone, forgetting my chain analysis bullshit, I needed to feel something… something strong. Solid. Thick. And I needed something, well actually someone, to feel me. To explore me. To kiss and devour, to make a meal out of me. I wanted to serve. Offer my body to a very hungry mouth. My body wanted more than another night of AA batteries and a quick cheap way to achieve a subpar orgasm. I was tired and growing very restless. Phone in hand, the decision was made and 3 words contributed to my body becoming your favorite meal …. 

Behind closed doors. 

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 The act itself is an art and with art, it’s open to any interpretations and understandings. It’s not one dimensional and this is your only option or this is the only way you can see it. It doesn’t work like that. The creation is meant to inspire. To stir. Bodies were made to explore. How does it make you feel? And then we build off that. And we explore. Dig deep. We converse. We begin to create. And I think that’s where we begin. The mistake is thinking that love making comes naturally. That’s not true nor is it fair, for yourself or your partner.  It’s never about the love. It’s not about that. We need to become better readers. Better listeners. The root of the problem lies in the communication between lovers. The openness. The body’s ability to perform is based off the communication process. Pay attention to what’s said and how it’s said. You have to be able to understand your partner sexually and emotionally. Validation is necessary. A person’s sexuality is to be treasured and respected. There’s so much beauty in the art of sex, love making. So it’s not about love, it’s about, can you reach each other. It’s about what is behind those closed doors. Does it make you feel more than just an empty vessel for your partner to achieve their goal? Is there an effort being given from your partner even though the day was long and stressful? Or is this just a dead body hoping within 5 minutes the act will be over? Is there a connection? You can create a connection. It’s not a far fetched ideology when it comes to sexual chemistry.

I’m learning. I promise.