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LIT CAMS (200 Free Tokens)ADULT TOYSVOD MOVIES

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An idea - just a spark, a start, a glimpse of the shadow lurking in the fog; this swirls above me just beyond my grasp. The softness of her skin, the way my hand moves over her curves like adding icing to an already perfect cake: these things quell my twisting psyche. Lose myself in her yielding, lose myself in her pleasure, lose myself in her. The urgency to create has given way to the urgency to be in the moment. Lost in a moment of scent, sound, and silence; I am reunited with the imagination of limitless new beginnings.
 
Life's First Lesson

I began happy without any cares or worries. But then discontent grew to the point of urgency, "I must get some place I’ve never been". The first lesson is hard. I was blinded, hit, cut, gagged, pulled and twisted by cold rubber gloves. Then a weary voice, dimly familiar yet clearer and warmer, filled my ears. The voice poured over me like warm water. Cold rubber gives way to warm skin. Once more I hear the rhythmic beat that has paced my life. I discovered that nerve endings firing in pain and distress can transmit bliss, calm, and soothing comfort.
 
Eatin' Good In The Neighborhood

Prurient Banana,
Gets Down To The Sound
Of An Egg Timer :nana:


I was squirting Dawn on filthy saucepans in my sink. A portal window gave me vantage through some sunburned gaps in the arborvitae.

A guy pulls up across the street in a Ford truck. He's got a pencil tucked behind his ear. He rang the doorbell. He kept hanging around.

Then Paula pulls up. Paula, Girlfriend of Brad, who owns the house who wasn't home. Pencil ran a line of talk past Paula.

Paula let Pencil inside.

I count 194 seconds, by my Bulova, before Pencil came back out-- and drove away.

“He fucked her,” I advised my tabby cat. "Looks bad for Brad."

Then I ate a cucumber sandwich, and wiped a tiny dollop of Ranch dressing off the portal window.

:rolleyes:
 
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In-flight Movies and Internet Telepathy

When I fly, I almost always watch the movie when there is one and I almost never listen to the sound. It’s not because of price—I have headphones that will work and often listen to music while the movie runs. I like to see how much I get from just the visuals. Make up dialogue as I go along.

It was harder than usual today, as it was an animated feature. You can’t read lips like you sometimes can with people and facial expressions lack subtlety.

Almost as tough as trying to read your mind in just your words.
 
How to Play Interpersonal Drinking Games

We should be over this Greek Row stuff, sitting around on the floor drinking Moët & Chandon Brut Impérial from the bottle and spinning old Ella Fitzgerald sides. But I guess some things never grow old.

You get that odd look on your face—that one I’ve learned to dread. “Let’s play a game,” you say, smiling.

Here’s where the Greek stuff really kicks in. They were big on Fate. “What game?”

“Truth or Dare, of course.” Your eyes are slits. “You go first.”

I say, “Then, Truth, of course.” I always pick Truth. I can’t lie to you anyway.
 
This Music Crept by Me Upon the Waters

In the middle of the night my hotel room cranks up some loud machine hum that sounds like the Krell hall of power in Forbidden Planet. I get up and go into the bathroom to figure out what's going on, half expecting to see Walter Pidgeon wrestling with the plumbing. What I'm really hoping for, of course, is to discover Anne Francis primping her perm wearing one of those diaphanous little baby doll shifts that Fifties costume designers thought looked futuristic, bless their sexist little souls.

But there's only fluorescent light and the subsonic groan of a train going by.
 
Faint Echoes of the Civil War

It was a small airport, the "international" designation notwithstanding—only three gates and a single baggage carousel. There was no one in line at the rental car counter, so it took very little time to return the car. Elizabeth went outside to smoke one last cigarette before they left. She still hadn't quit, though she knew he wanted her to.

Near check-in, Keith stood counting the few flights that arrived and left each day. Three different airlines, five cities served: San Francisco and Los Angeles, Seattle, Portland, Salt Lake City.

He idly wondered which state had seceded from the Union.
 
Tire irons, cans of bud, chain saws-rattle in the 84 Ford, as I follow and head for smokes on the gauntlet, the dui highway-but its light and the cops nod and the the alders turn gold in pale light of late north.

Chicken bakes in the oven, a spud too. Im too tired to eat. I'll probably burn it.
Down the wire, burn, ashes in the oven, I'll tune to drop D- pretend Im a sherpa.
 
Tachistoscope

The room is cool and dimly lit. The leads taped to my wrist and scalp are difficult to see. Her figure is indistinct, her voice firm yet disembodied.

"Are you ready? Please focus on the screen and concentrate."

TRUCK
HOUSE
SCHOOL
CHIMNEY

Words flash at the very edge of perception, sensed more by rods than cones. I try not to blink. "Very good," she says, "Here's the second series."

RUN
SLEEP
ARGUE
TALK

"One last series. Relax, please."

FAITH
TRUTH
HONOR
LOVE

I twitch. Even in the low light, I can see her smile as she writes in her notebook.
 
Better living through rationalizations and conjunctions

But love is only love when it is not love of self, right? For love of self is only ego; it's like the bare bones model in a car lot, not an option. Nor should it be any less part of the standard model than, say, brakes or ignition. Yet love is not, unfortunately, part of the standard model: by definition then it must be something earned in hourly pain, effort or privation. So then tests would be necessary, right? Or else how could we discern weave from thread? So bring on the gauntlet of naked beauties. And whipped cream.
 
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clutching_calliope said:
She said, “I wanted more than this for a vacation. I was expecting room service, fine dining, sleeping until noon, reading in bed, shopping excursions in chic stores, the arts, museums, galleries, dancing, staying up until two in the morning, skinny dipping, drinking wine with friends, good conversation, reflection, quiet afternoons and tall margueritas, seafood on skewers, violins, guitars in the park, magazines about world events and heated discussions that result, nectarines for breakfast, flowers in my hair, twirly skirts, and French kissing. That’s not too much to ask for.”

He asked, “Who were you planning to take on vacation?”
Click to expand...

I love this. Good to see you back, Calli, and to read your writings.
 
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