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LIT CAMS (200 Free Tokens)ADULT TOYSVOD MOVIES

100 Words

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy.... John Denver rolls through my head.
Disgusting. But true. What shall we do today on this foggy bottomed blues day without you. Last night you were absent even when you held me so close it hurt.
Today you left, a quick peck, and life seems that much lighter without you.
Is it wrong of me to want you so much and yet I am glad of your absence? I didn't realize I could gain ten pounds just having you near.
Thank god my clothes still fit. I don't want to get anything new.
 
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Yesterday I forgave someone who broke my heart. It was something that I had tried desperately to do for a long time but every time I wanted to reach out, anger consumed me. But I feel more calm now that I have done so. She is an amazing human being and there is much beauty in her. I couldn't see that before when my vision was clouded with rage.
 
I remember the story,the matchstick girl,soot covered dressed in rags, standing in the rain selling matches to passers by.
she only wanted love and warmth and a family
She died at the end, I had fallen in love with her.
For days afterward I was sad bursting into tears while riding my tricycle,
I may have been 5 or 6.
I asked my father why did the matchstick girl die?"
It was just a story, he told me.
" I know" i said" but why would the man who wrote it make her die?"
He didn't know .
I decided never to make anyone die
 
The Last Supper had nothing on this.

It didn't help when you collectively decided not to speak any English, knowing my Spanish was beyond laughable. Also, I think those tamales were made with flaming-fucking-magma, that didn't help my ulcers. Neither did announcing the engagement.

Your grandmother was there, post-aftermath. I remember her putting water on my arms, up to my elbows, when I told her my stomach hurt. It worked. She called it an old Mexican remedy, your father called it witchcraft.

She may have been a witch, I could see that. The good kind.

If she were here, I'd ask where I put water to keep my soul from hurting.



(110, whatever..)
 
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Crimson skies are belching blackness that will envelop everything soon. Stars are hidden behind the light bubble of the city. Very few will be strong enough to let their lights be viewed. Restless spirits whirl through the streets seeking to fill an emptiness that they won't acknowledge. Hungry and feral with need they have a callous disregard for the lights that call over head.
Look up they cry, Look up! The dark and unforgiving ground holds nothing for you now. Look UP! Lone woman looks up and sees. Smoke drenched sparks that call her home. A home that she forsook before she agreed to come here again.
 
My thoughts are singed.
Crispy and tender at criticism rendered
neither politically correct or casually cruel.
While at first breath I want to say f-you
I know better than that
So I read and reread listening to the inner voice that says
there is truth here even if you can't abide by it. Yet.
Growth is not a painless process.
Its like being a child again when your bones hurt
with growth spurts that keep you hunched
for a month regaining your balance.
Gradually the ache ends and voila you stand tall again.
I see it in my son. my daughter.
I see it in me. Hunched over protecting the heart.
When will the aching end?
As soon as I learn to bend?
Thanks are hard to come by
and yet I give thanks for those who deem
it worthy of a word
maybe even two
hehe thanks to you
 
Drugs please. Something to numb the pain. Something to make it allright to breathe.
Something that paints everything in shades of rosey pink. See its been too long since anything has been good around here. Hell wreaks a path that has her name on it. There is a neon sign on her forhead. There is a piece of paper stuck with cruel hilarity on her back. At least Wilbur had an erudite Charlotte. Her Charlotte is the comfort from a fifth of Jack. Lets not forget Wilbur, some sweating pig, that thrusts between her bruised thighs mindless of her, just spilling his seed. Another furrow on her brow is born.
 
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putting this somewhere else....











hmmm wonder where that came from.......
 
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Snow fell in confusing patterns over apple blossoms blushing pale pink. Apple round cheeks flushed a deeper hue as she laughed in nervous embarrassment at a joke from her first boyfriends lips. His lips held her attention in their narrow fullness shown only when he smiled. He was smiling now those pearly whites large and sharp looking. She tried to smile back, jittery and turning pinker by the minute as she watched him watching her. When his head swooped down to hers like a hawk stooping a small yelp flew from her lips just as his mouth touched hers for the first time. Startled she stepped back to see dissappointment darken his eyes to blackest grey, face turning white as the snow that covered the drooping apple blossoms.
 
There I was, perusing the internet, typing random searches for Google to perform, when I was given this revelation, a wonderful confirmation that all this time, I was, in fact not merely considering orgasm and even more than a fleeting idea that rubbing this will make that happen, someone had performed a study on it... Boldly displaying the findings in a proud 16 point typeface the author announces "STUDY CLAIMS CLITORIS LARGER THAN THOUGHT."

Never one to dwell on these anomalies of the hallowed halls of higher education, I still am left pondering exactly how big a thought is.
 
It was a huge thought. Almost bigger than a single brain could contain. This thought roiled and smoked. It ravaged and rampaged. It whispered and cajoled. It barked up one tree and down another. It consumed rational thinking and left behind the residue of pure emotion. Emotions that ran hither and thither, a gauntleted gamut of perceptions that left the body a trembling mass of vibrating muscle and coursing veins. It left the heart pumping madly, galloping like wild mustangs as disconnected smaller thoughts imploded on impact with the larger all consuming thought of...now.
 
Howling winds blew hard across the road. Torrents poured leaving nothing to be seen. Prayers flew from clenched lips as the rear wheels fishtailed yet again. Highbeam hell coming up hard passing so close if the window had been down you could have opened the door. Markings meant to guide vanished in the roiling night. All you could do was clutch the wheel and pray in litany that you didn't stray to close the the dividing wall. The dividing wall was the only thing that kept you on this side of death.
 
unknown The house is empty. Mom and Daughter are on the island. Dachshunds are at

The house is empty. Mom and Daughter are on the island. Dachshunds are at the vets and I leave in the morning. Daughter marries on the island to a man of whom I approve. Mom and I pickup the wieners and live happily ever after. A Carolina Blonde with amber hue type of ending.
In this world of turbulent seas and thunderstorms I deserve this weekend to shine and warm and bond. Not for myself but for the innocence robbed from us on what seems to be a daily basis. Let the sunshine this weekend in all directions and colors. :rose:
 
I give up. I give up chocolate and pecans. I give up caramel and whipped cream.
I give up the scent of your skin warming under my breath. I give up the feel of your long hair threaded through my fingers. I give up the sensation of being pressed into the bed. I give up licking the length of you, sucking you deep. I give up feeling you slide into my body so wet it steams. I give up the play of your tongue on my breast. I give up wanting to teach you more about pleasing me. I give up showing you how to make me cum. I give up. I give up. I give.
 
That snake-necked lamp has got to go. It holds nothing more than spent batteries and dust. Look at all those compartments and slots, maybe that one's for business cards. I have no clue. The point is, it's cheap and has no place here in the elegance that's garbed in sweatpants and t-shirt. After all, I clean up nicely.

No matter how it's dusted, it'll still look like a bottom-dweller brought to the surface for a coffee at Starbucks. It'll stand outside, smoking ten dollar cigarettes, complaining that six bucks for a "Latte" is too much, when a jar of instant only costs four.

(105 words in MSWord)
 
I'm glad I chose steadiness over great sex. It's been a ponderous road, planting ideas and springing surprises. Like the time he flew to France on business, I took the next plane and was waiting naked in his bed when he returned to his hotel room. The concierge was amused enough to comply (the French are such romantics) and the sex was wonderful. His shyness made role-playing hysterical and we’d fall together laughing. Eventually I gave up trying and we both settled for occasional earth moving but I have no regrets. We love one another.
 
The day is gray. Funny, when I lived back East we thought California was filled with movie stars, big cities and tons of sunshine. Reality is, right now it is gray, with tons of green fields and I have yet to see a movie star. Not that I would want to.

I sit and stare at the gray sinking towards the newly mowed grass.

It seems as if I have to let the gray in today. The cat looks up at me, wondering what the hell is going on in her head. Maybe it is time to get a job.
 
Stomach growling, she types up the last report. No time to eat, or take a piss she muses as she sends the document to print. Her temper is skating the fine edge of disaster as she stands up, stretching, reaching for her coat. The printer is jammed.
Fuck.
Shrugging out of her just donned coat and tossing her bag down, she flips open the various portals and recepticals seeing her document crushed and crinkled between the superheated rollers. Temper soaring she tore the pages free, peeling back a nail that sent hot pain up her hand.
"Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooot! OW!"a muttered and muffled shriek under the breath.
And dimwit boss man chose that moment to grab her ass. She didn't even think. It happened too fast for thought. It happened so fast she could only stare at him in shock as the pain of a split knuckle throbbed.
 
When I'm depressed, I tend to drink. A lot. I seem to be getting more and more depressed lately and with that, the ineveitable increase in my consumption of alcohol. Just this week, I've suffered heartbreak, bouts of loneliness and everything I never wanted to experience again lobbed right at me. Karma is saying fuck you over and over again. Well asshole, fuck you back.
 
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