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| Blogs > GimmeAThrill > The Thrill is Gone |
A bit of a story
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A bit of a story First, let me explain that the point of this episode isn't the sex, though it is sexual. It is also not an example of how I am. Before I take the last few steps up onto her landing, I do a quick check of my "self". I squeeze down my normal bubble until it's small enough to allow interaction. It will allow me to seem as if I'm "in the moment" and she will believe it. She opens the door and smiles sweetly as she moves aside to let me into her living room. It's a cozy place. It has a well-worn feel to it. Not abused, or worn-out, but alive with evidence that someone actually does more than keep the place clean. Pieces of her aren't hard to spot. Over there is a bookcase full of books she's either read or intends to read, some are stacked up on top and a few are lying flat in front of the books lined up on their ends like in a library. Over there is a corner where she draws and paints, all the supplies put away but there's still a stained paintcloth draped across an easel, proving the area is well-used. The computer she uses sits in a large computer desk with discs strewn across the shelves and desktop. It's easy to be comfortable here. I catch all of this in a glance as she closes the door behind me. I've been in her apartment before and I'm not here to inspect it. I pin her to the door as I kiss her deeply, almost roughly. Both of us immediately feel the physical response of this sudden instigation. A dot of light appears in the normal blankness in the bubble as her clothes change from decorative, functional garments into piles of color. The dot is multicolored; a subdued swirl of rainbows that echoes the rumpled pants, shirts, and various sundries we've left behind as we begin our mutually beneficial and completely familiar struggle. To an observer, it must look as if I'm fighting this woman. I welcome the raw, physical, visceral nature of our activity. I revel in the sensations and a forlorn hope that comes with it. I'm seeking two things at once: mutual pleasure and a final victory over my cursed bubble. I seek its destruction and an end to the emptiness it contains. I concentrate all my will and physical strength into doing both at once, for it seems I can not do one without the other. She urges me on with liberal use of vocal encouragement, as if she is cognizant of the dual purpose of our current interaction. She can't know, but it seems that way and I appreciate the encouragement. As we continue on, the intensity waxing and waning, the light pulses and expands right along with my exertions, pushing back the dark and threatening to swallow it. It ends.. as all such things end. We're both physically sated and exhausted, at least for now. As I fear, the blackness aborbs the light as my body calms. It's not long before the bubble is back to its usual state, though still shrunken. I find my shirt and the pack of Camels in the pocket. The Zippo I find in the right front pocket of my nearby jeans makes a comforting "snick-ting" as it opens and emits the familiar smell of lighter fluid. I lean back into the couch and take that first desparate drag and hate my empty bubble. I participate in conversation, but she's distant again. I didn't achieve my victory, but I found a small respite. I am grateful for that, but that's just not something I can say or she'd want to hear. I finish that Camel and head to the restroom. When I finish in there, I return to the living room, dress, and head for the door. "Are you leaving?", she asks. "I was never here.", I answer as the door closes behind me. Smart as a and hung like Einstein. |
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Somehow, I feel that you were writing about a personal experience  Smart as a horse and hung like Einstein.
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Yea.. But, see, the character doesn't care. The girl is something he can use, and when he's done, he's done.
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I would feel bad if he left me just like that after ..uhm....going thru all that Smart as a horse and hung like Einstein.
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I enjoyed reading this......liked the last line especially  Smart as a horse and hung like Einstein.
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I would feel bad if he left me just like that after ..uhm....going thru all that
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I enjoyed reading this......liked the last line especially Pull My Fucking Hair! 
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Sounds interesting! I'll message you with questions. Smart as a horse and hung like Einstein.
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It's something in your memory. Smell has the strongest memory response of all the senses. So, for you, the smell of butane brings back memories of a time when you felt safe or happy? Smart as a horse and hung like Einstein.
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awesome!  Thanks for stoppin by my blog tonight  Smart as a horse and hung like Einstein.
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3/25/2008 6:44 pm |
awesome! Thanks for stoppin by my blog tonight friendships is like a diamond, always forever   
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Thanks. I'm not sure I'd classify this as erotica... Erotic overtones, sure. Erotica.. Meh. Smart as a horse and hung like Einstein.
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