Desultory and Impulsive
- Thread starter y=mx+b
- Start date
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2004
- Posts
- 14,577
I'm perpetually angry-horny. If I get my hands on someone, I'm scared for them. 
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
...but it's pretty
Quiet
Solitary.
I was told today
By a friend at work
That everybody wonders what I am thinking
...that nobody knows where I'm at.
As in... where my mind is.
And it all was said to me in fun.
Like I'm some sort of... I don't know.
They gave an example of how the supervisor came over to where he thought I was... and I wasn't, and he asked my friend were I was And he said "he's over there." And the supervisor was like "what's he doing over there?" And my friend was like... "I dont know. I don't question these things. Trust the process." And he said the supervisor said... "that's all we can do."
And it's all fucking funny isn't it?
To a degree I suppose it is
It's not like I'm off fucking around.
I'm off getting shit done.
What kind of shit, and how I'm getting it done, I haven't a fucking clue. But it all kinda comes together.
We are entering the time if year where things start folding in upon themselves inside my head.
Brief but very lucid moments of déjà vu
Which I hate because to me the moment feels like a seizure and perhaps it is but it's never actually disruptive... lasting only an iota of a second.
I used to think they were due to the medication I once took for all that bullshit I was told I had... and probably do... but stopped taking a couple years back because fuck it because im the captain of this shit-show ship I am stuck in
Right?
Yep.
You don't have a choice but to agree with me.
I suppose you do but your choice to disagree has no footing in my life
So neener fucking neener.
Quiet
Solitary.
I was told today
By a friend at work
That everybody wonders what I am thinking
...that nobody knows where I'm at.
As in... where my mind is.
And it all was said to me in fun.
Like I'm some sort of... I don't know.
They gave an example of how the supervisor came over to where he thought I was... and I wasn't, and he asked my friend were I was And he said "he's over there." And the supervisor was like "what's he doing over there?" And my friend was like... "I dont know. I don't question these things. Trust the process." And he said the supervisor said... "that's all we can do."
And it's all fucking funny isn't it?
To a degree I suppose it is
It's not like I'm off fucking around.
I'm off getting shit done.
What kind of shit, and how I'm getting it done, I haven't a fucking clue. But it all kinda comes together.
We are entering the time if year where things start folding in upon themselves inside my head.
Brief but very lucid moments of déjà vu
Which I hate because to me the moment feels like a seizure and perhaps it is but it's never actually disruptive... lasting only an iota of a second.
I used to think they were due to the medication I once took for all that bullshit I was told I had... and probably do... but stopped taking a couple years back because fuck it because im the captain of this shit-show ship I am stuck in
Right?
Yep.
You don't have a choice but to agree with me.
I suppose you do but your choice to disagree has no footing in my life
So neener fucking neener.
Arianthe
Freak of feminine nature
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2009
- Posts
- 5,781
Seems reasonable.
I made a tack bra a few months ago. Took the lining out of a padded bra, shoved a bunch of thumb tacks through each cup, then sewed it all back together again. It's just the right kind of owie. I really should remind my Dom of its existence.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
Seems reasonable.
I made a tack bra a few months ago. Took the lining out of a padded bra, shoved a bunch of thumb tacks through each cup, then sewed it all back together again. It's just the right kind of owie. I really should remind my Dom of its existence.
Yes. You should.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
I want fire
And I want it to burn hot.
The touch of my hand upon the cheek of your face
Blistering lust
The kind from a distant sun
Brighter than that of our own.
When I look at you
I want your knees to buckle
And the gaze of your eyes
To cast downward
Towards the fertile ground
Of your orgasm
Shamefully longing
For what you know
I alone
Can give you.
And I want it to burn hot.
The touch of my hand upon the cheek of your face
Blistering lust
The kind from a distant sun
Brighter than that of our own.
When I look at you
I want your knees to buckle
And the gaze of your eyes
To cast downward
Towards the fertile ground
Of your orgasm
Shamefully longing
For what you know
I alone
Can give you.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
On splitting wood at night
I like it.
Particularly on a clear night.
The cold still air
Quiet
The ice light of stars
Piercing through moonlit shadows
A solitary owl
Calling out
To an unseen fox
Coyotes
Moving like mercury
Across snow covered ground
The heft of the ax
The sturdy handle in my hands
Firm within my grasp
In the dark
I feel fluid
Certain
And perfect
I like it.
Particularly on a clear night.
The cold still air
Quiet
The ice light of stars
Piercing through moonlit shadows
A solitary owl
Calling out
To an unseen fox
Coyotes
Moving like mercury
Across snow covered ground
The heft of the ax
The sturdy handle in my hands
Firm within my grasp
In the dark
I feel fluid
Certain
And perfect
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
With my words
I keep trying to tell her what it's like
But like you
--and everyone else knows
...words fail
Just as intentions do.
What doesn't fail
--is the human touch.
And so I find myself
Wanting to touch her
...wanting to hold her
Wanting to feel.
Not feel her
But feel...
...with her
And feel her breath enter my lungs
As I hold her
Naked
Against my own naked chest
Alone with her
Quietly
Allowing her thoughts
...and her emotions
Rise
...and fall
Just as her chest
And heart
Rise and fall
Along with that of mine
Until we both
Fell asleep
I keep trying to tell her what it's like
But like you
--and everyone else knows
...words fail
Just as intentions do.
What doesn't fail
--is the human touch.
And so I find myself
Wanting to touch her
...wanting to hold her
Wanting to feel.
Not feel her
But feel...
...with her
And feel her breath enter my lungs
As I hold her
Naked
Against my own naked chest
Alone with her
Quietly
Allowing her thoughts
...and her emotions
Rise
...and fall
Just as her chest
And heart
Rise and fall
Along with that of mine
Until we both
Fell asleep
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
But then....
I want to fuck the shit out of her.
Literally.
I want to fuck her asshole to the point of impaction
...or incontinence.
When I told her
How I wanted to fuck her until she shit blood
I wasn't joking
And she knows this
And she knows that I would.
Because I am like that.
I want to fuck the shit out of her.
Literally.
I want to fuck her asshole to the point of impaction
...or incontinence.
When I told her
How I wanted to fuck her until she shit blood
I wasn't joking
And she knows this
And she knows that I would.
Because I am like that.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
Idiots. The whole lot of them.
Blueeyesrenee
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Dec 3, 2018
- Posts
- 3,015
Very lovely Sir!
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
Thank you.
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
In my web I sit
Alone
In the shadows
Watching
Waiting
Feeling
Thinking and seeing and weaving
Thought after thought
World within worlds
Working out what I think should work
Knowing
That it won't
And repairing that thread
That silken light of a dream
Floating in the passing breeze
Like a strand of her hair
Caught up in the summer sun
And I sit
Still
Waiting
Compound eyes
Etching what they see
As time
In the form of memories
A swift snowy season
Giving way
To the sweet sweat scent
Of spring
And then
Into a lust fuck scene
Of a summer night
Forgotten
Under a passing adolescent star
Her breasts so pert to a touch
She
In her mind
Knows that she should have saved
But for who?
For what?
And for why.
Love?
That sinking caught of feeling
To forever belong?
To the belief beside a body of one
Can keep the body of another so close
Forever in a romantic embrace?
Who's company is all that is
And ever should be?
Yes I say
To her
My child
Yes I say
Love is real
And it is to be sought out
And kept secret and alive
In words read
Between the beating of the heart in your chest
And in the whispered words of your breath
As it passes through my web
Never to be caught
And never to be kept
Alone
In the shadows
Watching
Waiting
Feeling
Thinking and seeing and weaving
Thought after thought
World within worlds
Working out what I think should work
Knowing
That it won't
And repairing that thread
That silken light of a dream
Floating in the passing breeze
Like a strand of her hair
Caught up in the summer sun
And I sit
Still
Waiting
Compound eyes
Etching what they see
As time
In the form of memories
A swift snowy season
Giving way
To the sweet sweat scent
Of spring
And then
Into a lust fuck scene
Of a summer night
Forgotten
Under a passing adolescent star
Her breasts so pert to a touch
She
In her mind
Knows that she should have saved
But for who?
For what?
And for why.
Love?
That sinking caught of feeling
To forever belong?
To the belief beside a body of one
Can keep the body of another so close
Forever in a romantic embrace?
Who's company is all that is
And ever should be?
Yes I say
To her
My child
Yes I say
Love is real
And it is to be sought out
And kept secret and alive
In words read
Between the beating of the heart in your chest
And in the whispered words of your breath
As it passes through my web
Never to be caught
And never to be kept
Moochienanu
Gives hot transcript
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2018
- Posts
- 7,761
The Spider and The Fly
"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to show when you are there."
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can never come down again."
"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome - will you please to take a slice?"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be,
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"
"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."
"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple - there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue -
Thinking only of her crested head, poor foolish thing!
At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour - but she ne'er came out again!
And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.
- Mary Howitt, 1829
"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to show when you are there."
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can never come down again."
"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome - will you please to take a slice?"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be,
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"
"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."
"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple - there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue -
Thinking only of her crested head, poor foolish thing!
At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour - but she ne'er came out again!
And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.
- Mary Howitt, 1829
Moochienanu
Gives hot transcript
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2018
- Posts
- 7,761
y=mx+b
___________
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
- Posts
- 25,538
I wanted to touch the side of her face
To run the back of my fingers against her skull
-- that place, that area, her temple before her ear
That's how I wanted to feel her
And cradle her intelligent mind
And look into her eyes in recognition of this
Because she was smart.
And it was this
That pulled me
Romantically into her.
To run the back of my fingers against her skull
-- that place, that area, her temple before her ear
That's how I wanted to feel her
And cradle her intelligent mind
And look into her eyes in recognition of this
Because she was smart.
And it was this
That pulled me
Romantically into her.
