So I will admit that my last introduction was pretty weak sauce. On the other hand I suck at introductions. Instead I will just tell you what comes to mind.
I love drag queens. I firmly believe that had I been born with a penis I would a) be gay and b) be a drag queen. I wish I could be one now though. No one understands my sense of style. Sigh. I take being called normal as an insult. Whereas I don’t strive to be different, I just always seem drawn to the path not commonly walked. If possible I like to forge my own path. I am fiercly loyal to my loved ones. I mean that too. If you hurt one of them I will fuck you up. which reminds me, I am a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. Not some store front dojo either. I smashed my ankle in high school which has left me with a half inch range of mobility in my right ankle. This allows me to do a rather killer impression of a zombie, and not always in the good way. So if we are hanging out/playing/whatever all day or night and as the evening wears on if I start to look more and more like an extra from Thriller, don’t be alarmed. I’m just gimping out. I respect any and all beliefs as long as you don’t try to impress your beliefs upon anyone else. I am the High Priestest of the Church of Bruce Willis who saves us every day. I am married to the most wonderful man in the world. He’s got shirts to prove it. If you meet him, you too shall fall under the spell of the Jason. If I could clone him I would be rich because I already know a dozen people who would pay to have a Jason of their very own. I am a mother of a precocious 9 year old girl. She gravitates between being awesome and being a shit as children do. She’s super smart and will grow up to be someone important. That way she’ll have the money to put me and Jason up in a nice nursing home. I don’t have telelvision in my house. Not that I don’t have TVs. But we get no channels coming into the house. Not even abc, nbc, etc. Also no internet. We’re practically barbarians. But there is a reason for it. I control everything that comes into my house. Instead of watching crap shows my kid watches good stuff like She-Ra, The Smurfs (The worlds best show bout communism), Transformers (NOT THE MICHAEL BAY BS), Gargoyles, and The Animaniacs (Best show of all time). We are Netflix junkies.
I guess that’s about enough for now.
Toodles!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Patient 41420
Who am I? What a stupid question. Uh-oh. Don’t want to start out being accusatorially aggressive, do I Doc? I must remember that this will help with my therapy, mustn’t I. It’s important to discover who the real “me” is. To find out why I do the things I do. I can almost hear your voice in my head. Not literally, you know. Don’t write that down in my file. The truth is I know who I am. And I know exactly why I do the things I do. Though I doubt you could understand it. But who knows? You keep asking me to trust you. Maybe I will. After all I’ve got nothing but time. 5-10 years. They tell me if you give me a recommendation then I may get out even sooner. So this is me, trusting you Doc.
Who am I? Small time. No one important, that’s for sure. No one worth locking up in here, in any case. I’m not a thief. I know I was caught stealing. But unlike thieves I didn’t give a shit about that money. It could have been anything. Stealing, vandalizing, breaking and entering. And since I am being so honest with you Doc, I have done all those things. But get caught stealing and suddenly you are a thief. Ah well. Who I am doesn’t really matter. It’s not the 'who' you are really interested in anyway. You see a dozen more patients just like me every day. Who I am is immaterial. The why is what you are after. Once you know why then you can figure out how to fix me so you can pronounce me cured. You get a bonus for freeing up another bed. And the Asylum’s statistics for recovery go up another half a percentage point.
I’m being accusatorially aggressive again. I’m counting to ten. 9, 10. Ah. Better.
But I’m still right. It’s the why you want. So I figure why not? I’ll let you inside me Doc. Then you can poke me and prod me, make me squirm. Who knows? Maybe you will even fix what’s broken. Stranger things have happened.
Why I was at that store when I was arrested is the same reason I destroyed those paintings. The same reason I have done most of what I have done for the past 3 years.
Batman.
See 3 years ago I was at the bank depositing my paycheck for successfully punching a time card at 9 and 5 for five days in a row, my reward for not dying of boredom. I was just standing there minding my own business when the back wall of the bank exploded. I will admit at the time I had no experience with that sort of thing. I know you read about it in the newspaper all the time but I’ve lived in Gotham my entire life and had managed to never be somewhere when one of these “occurrences” (as the paper likes to call them) took place. I didn’t know what was going on. I hit the ground and cowered there like a child. I didn’t even know that Mr. Freeze was in the bank until I heard his voice. I was too busy listening to his henchmen and keeping my nose on the floor like a good hostage. I’m not sure if you have ever heard Mr. Freeze’s voice (he may be too high profile for your department) but there is a desperate sadness in it. I couldn’t help chancing a peak.
He just stood there in his metal suit. He instructed the tellers to hand over the money to his men, but he didn’t actually do anything. He didn’t threaten anyone. He didn’t supervise. He just stood there like he was waiting for when he could leave. His eyes were a million miles away.
That’s probably why he didn’t see the dark shape dropping down from the ceiling. Honestly I didn’t see it either. I only thought I might have seen something. It wasn’t until he moved that I was able to discern the cape and cowl from the charred wall behind him. Then I just stared. I watched in wonder as his form became clearer and clearer as he crept up on Mr. Freeze. When Batman was only a few feet from him, Mr. Freeze seemed to become aware of his presence.
Mr. Freeze turned quickly hefting his ice ray, trying to aim at Batman, but Batman was too quick. He dodged the ice ray effortlessly and punched Mr. Freeze, sending him crashing against the teller wall. Then quick as a flash Batman careened around the room sending all of Mr. Freeze’s men flying. I mean that literally Doc. Bodies flew through the air! I saw men, 6’4 and bigger fly 10 feet across a room! How sexy is that? I swear I have never been wetter.
Too soon Batman had subdued everyone, including Mr. Freeze. The fun was over. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe that Batman would wait around for the cops to show up. Maybe that he would check on all the hostages and make sure they were alright. Maybe when it was my turn he would insist that I couldn’t walk on my twisted ankle and then he would swoop me up in his arms and carry me to the ambulance while we locked eyes. Ok so maybe I know exactly what I expected. But that wasn’t what went down. No, before I could even say thank you he was gone. Took his grappling hook out, shot it up to the ceiling and disappeared into the shadows. Leaving me on the floor looking like I had pissed myself I was so wet.
That’s why I do the things I do Doc. Batman. I want him.
After that day at the bank I grew more and more frustrated. Like the incident had awoken a side of me I didn’t know existed. I was insatiable. I fucked my boyfriend so often and so hard he had to beg me for breaks. I started cheating. Finding excuses to escape and going off to seedy bars where I met strange men who took me to disgusting hotels. I would use them and milk them until they collapsed of exhaustion. And still I would not feel sated. The more I fucked the more it fed my hunger. I was powerless to fulfill my desires, try though I might.
If ever I deserved to be in here it would have been then Doc. I probably would have died had I continued in that way. I’m sure you think I am exaggerating but if you knew the kind of men I was fucking you would understand how someone might meet an early end. However fate intervened.
I was walking home one night in August when some thug appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed my purse and pushed me roughly to the ground. I heard him begin to run away with my purse. This time it wasn’t a super villain and I was not terrified. I was pissed. I picked up some rocks from a break in the sidewalk and hurled them at the man running away. Unfortunately I don’t exactly have great aim. The second rock I threw took a hard left, into the window of a store. Glass rained down and alarms screamed. And then out of nowhere Batman fell from the sky. His ape extended with air whipping around it as he sailed to earth, touching down gently on the sidewalk.
For the first time in my life Batman spoke to me. He said “Are you ok ma’am?”
Ok, so not the most romantic of statements but he might as well have said “I want you. Let me take you now”. When I heard his voice, so deep and husky, like every word he said came echoing up from his Batcave, well when I heard that, I came. Right there, in my pants on the ground with no stimulation. His voice gave me an orgasm. I kind of nodded and mumbled something bout being alright and then he was gone again. And I was left alone on the ground in soaking panties.
Probably not the reason most people would say they became a criminal but it was the reason for me. See I realized 2 things from that encounter. The first being that Batman was the only thing that did it for me. The only thing that got me off. If his voice could give me an orgasm, imagine what his hands, or tongue could do. Imagine his cock. Imagine it Doc…. 8, 9, 10. I decided I needed to sleep with Batman.
The second thing I realized was that it isn’t the victims that Batman spends his time with. It was the villains. The crooks. They are the ones that get his attention while their victims are left in the street. When I realized that I realized that I didn’t want to be the victim.
So I crossed the line. I went to the dark side. Put it whatever way turns you on. I took up a life of crime. But not for the money. I want that understood. Regardless of what the DA said, I didn’t do it for the money. I did it because he always shows up. As dependable as clockwork. I cross that line and he is there, ready to put me back in my place.
I live for our time together. Those few golden minutes where nothing exists in either of our worlds but each other. He’s the hunter. I am the prey.
If you could know Doc how my heart races right before I trigger the alarms. How thick the anticipation is in those few minutes between the alarm going off and his arrival. At first I could never hear him arrive. I would be anxiously awaiting his presence when he would materialize out of nowhere. I swear to you Doc he once came out of a shadow I had been staring at for 10 minutes straight. Now I can usually tell when he arrives. A quiet rustle of fabric. A groan on a steel beam overhead. A shuffling. If you listen hard enough you can almost hear him drop into the room.
I love that moment when I know he is there but I can’t see him yet. I don’t try to look for him either. That would be like opening your presents on Christmas Eve. Besides, I don’t need to look for him. I know he will find me. So I wait in glorious expectation of what’s to come. I wait and feel him watching me. His dark eyes sizing me up, assessing how much of a threat I am.
The last thing I want to do is disappoint Batman. I wouldn’t want him to think I am a waste of his time and let the regular police deal with me. No, that wouldn’t do at all. That wouldn’t give me the fix I need. So every time I make sure I pose some kind of threat. Occasionally I will take someone hostage. That is a sure fire way to get Batman’s attention. But more often than not, I simply light a fire. A small one made from slow burning materials. I always start small. Just a little fire. Just enough to pose an immanent threat. His favorite type. Plus I will admit that I am a sucker for the way Batman looks by firelight. The way the flames play across his armor and throw his dark eyes even further into shadow. It makes me weak in the knees.
When he finally emerges from the shadows…. I wish I could describe to you the way I feel when I see him. I always have the breath go out of me. Every time. There is this moment when we both just stare at each other. We know the steps of this dance. I am his eager partner. I try to run but not to escape. He catches me. His body wraps around mine, preventing me from fleeing. His arms circle my chest like iron. He presses his body to mine limiting my movement. His armor is unyielding and he presses me to him with such strength that the armor digs into my skin leaving dark bruises on my skin like souvenirs. If I attempt to kick at his legs he will reposition himself, sliding an arm down across my stomach and gripping my hips. I grind back into him. My body fitting perfectly into his. Like two halves of a whole. I steal these seconds from the situation at hand. For those few moments I close my eyes and concentrate on nothing but the feel of his body against mine. His breath on my neck. For those stolen seconds Batman is mine.
But all too quickly it will be over. He will ruin it. He will break away and I will be in handcuffs. And I find myself back here explaining to you who I am and why I do the things I do.
Does it help you Doc? Knowing who I am and my motivation. Does it help you build your profile? I hope so. Because you’re right Doc. I’m sick. Each day I get worse. Every night I watch the skyline from my window. The bars don’t stop me from seeing him darting in and out of sight. The longer I am away from him the more I want him. The longer I have to watch him through the bars the more this want feels like a need. A need I can’t continue to deny. A need I won’t deny.
I’m sorry Doc. How does the line go? By the time you read this I’ll be gone. The Joker made me an offer I have no intention of refusing. I guess you could say I have been offered a promotion. I really hate to leave you after we’ve just made such a breakthrough in my case but I can’t exactly do this job from my cell here in Arkham, can I? I knew you would understand. So, goodbye Doc. I’m off to build a Batbox.
Cue the alarms….
Who am I? Small time. No one important, that’s for sure. No one worth locking up in here, in any case. I’m not a thief. I know I was caught stealing. But unlike thieves I didn’t give a shit about that money. It could have been anything. Stealing, vandalizing, breaking and entering. And since I am being so honest with you Doc, I have done all those things. But get caught stealing and suddenly you are a thief. Ah well. Who I am doesn’t really matter. It’s not the 'who' you are really interested in anyway. You see a dozen more patients just like me every day. Who I am is immaterial. The why is what you are after. Once you know why then you can figure out how to fix me so you can pronounce me cured. You get a bonus for freeing up another bed. And the Asylum’s statistics for recovery go up another half a percentage point.
I’m being accusatorially aggressive again. I’m counting to ten. 9, 10. Ah. Better.
But I’m still right. It’s the why you want. So I figure why not? I’ll let you inside me Doc. Then you can poke me and prod me, make me squirm. Who knows? Maybe you will even fix what’s broken. Stranger things have happened.
Why I was at that store when I was arrested is the same reason I destroyed those paintings. The same reason I have done most of what I have done for the past 3 years.
Batman.
See 3 years ago I was at the bank depositing my paycheck for successfully punching a time card at 9 and 5 for five days in a row, my reward for not dying of boredom. I was just standing there minding my own business when the back wall of the bank exploded. I will admit at the time I had no experience with that sort of thing. I know you read about it in the newspaper all the time but I’ve lived in Gotham my entire life and had managed to never be somewhere when one of these “occurrences” (as the paper likes to call them) took place. I didn’t know what was going on. I hit the ground and cowered there like a child. I didn’t even know that Mr. Freeze was in the bank until I heard his voice. I was too busy listening to his henchmen and keeping my nose on the floor like a good hostage. I’m not sure if you have ever heard Mr. Freeze’s voice (he may be too high profile for your department) but there is a desperate sadness in it. I couldn’t help chancing a peak.
He just stood there in his metal suit. He instructed the tellers to hand over the money to his men, but he didn’t actually do anything. He didn’t threaten anyone. He didn’t supervise. He just stood there like he was waiting for when he could leave. His eyes were a million miles away.
That’s probably why he didn’t see the dark shape dropping down from the ceiling. Honestly I didn’t see it either. I only thought I might have seen something. It wasn’t until he moved that I was able to discern the cape and cowl from the charred wall behind him. Then I just stared. I watched in wonder as his form became clearer and clearer as he crept up on Mr. Freeze. When Batman was only a few feet from him, Mr. Freeze seemed to become aware of his presence.
Mr. Freeze turned quickly hefting his ice ray, trying to aim at Batman, but Batman was too quick. He dodged the ice ray effortlessly and punched Mr. Freeze, sending him crashing against the teller wall. Then quick as a flash Batman careened around the room sending all of Mr. Freeze’s men flying. I mean that literally Doc. Bodies flew through the air! I saw men, 6’4 and bigger fly 10 feet across a room! How sexy is that? I swear I have never been wetter.
Too soon Batman had subdued everyone, including Mr. Freeze. The fun was over. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe that Batman would wait around for the cops to show up. Maybe that he would check on all the hostages and make sure they were alright. Maybe when it was my turn he would insist that I couldn’t walk on my twisted ankle and then he would swoop me up in his arms and carry me to the ambulance while we locked eyes. Ok so maybe I know exactly what I expected. But that wasn’t what went down. No, before I could even say thank you he was gone. Took his grappling hook out, shot it up to the ceiling and disappeared into the shadows. Leaving me on the floor looking like I had pissed myself I was so wet.
That’s why I do the things I do Doc. Batman. I want him.
After that day at the bank I grew more and more frustrated. Like the incident had awoken a side of me I didn’t know existed. I was insatiable. I fucked my boyfriend so often and so hard he had to beg me for breaks. I started cheating. Finding excuses to escape and going off to seedy bars where I met strange men who took me to disgusting hotels. I would use them and milk them until they collapsed of exhaustion. And still I would not feel sated. The more I fucked the more it fed my hunger. I was powerless to fulfill my desires, try though I might.
If ever I deserved to be in here it would have been then Doc. I probably would have died had I continued in that way. I’m sure you think I am exaggerating but if you knew the kind of men I was fucking you would understand how someone might meet an early end. However fate intervened.
I was walking home one night in August when some thug appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed my purse and pushed me roughly to the ground. I heard him begin to run away with my purse. This time it wasn’t a super villain and I was not terrified. I was pissed. I picked up some rocks from a break in the sidewalk and hurled them at the man running away. Unfortunately I don’t exactly have great aim. The second rock I threw took a hard left, into the window of a store. Glass rained down and alarms screamed. And then out of nowhere Batman fell from the sky. His ape extended with air whipping around it as he sailed to earth, touching down gently on the sidewalk.
For the first time in my life Batman spoke to me. He said “Are you ok ma’am?”
Ok, so not the most romantic of statements but he might as well have said “I want you. Let me take you now”. When I heard his voice, so deep and husky, like every word he said came echoing up from his Batcave, well when I heard that, I came. Right there, in my pants on the ground with no stimulation. His voice gave me an orgasm. I kind of nodded and mumbled something bout being alright and then he was gone again. And I was left alone on the ground in soaking panties.
Probably not the reason most people would say they became a criminal but it was the reason for me. See I realized 2 things from that encounter. The first being that Batman was the only thing that did it for me. The only thing that got me off. If his voice could give me an orgasm, imagine what his hands, or tongue could do. Imagine his cock. Imagine it Doc…. 8, 9, 10. I decided I needed to sleep with Batman.
The second thing I realized was that it isn’t the victims that Batman spends his time with. It was the villains. The crooks. They are the ones that get his attention while their victims are left in the street. When I realized that I realized that I didn’t want to be the victim.
So I crossed the line. I went to the dark side. Put it whatever way turns you on. I took up a life of crime. But not for the money. I want that understood. Regardless of what the DA said, I didn’t do it for the money. I did it because he always shows up. As dependable as clockwork. I cross that line and he is there, ready to put me back in my place.
I live for our time together. Those few golden minutes where nothing exists in either of our worlds but each other. He’s the hunter. I am the prey.
If you could know Doc how my heart races right before I trigger the alarms. How thick the anticipation is in those few minutes between the alarm going off and his arrival. At first I could never hear him arrive. I would be anxiously awaiting his presence when he would materialize out of nowhere. I swear to you Doc he once came out of a shadow I had been staring at for 10 minutes straight. Now I can usually tell when he arrives. A quiet rustle of fabric. A groan on a steel beam overhead. A shuffling. If you listen hard enough you can almost hear him drop into the room.
I love that moment when I know he is there but I can’t see him yet. I don’t try to look for him either. That would be like opening your presents on Christmas Eve. Besides, I don’t need to look for him. I know he will find me. So I wait in glorious expectation of what’s to come. I wait and feel him watching me. His dark eyes sizing me up, assessing how much of a threat I am.
The last thing I want to do is disappoint Batman. I wouldn’t want him to think I am a waste of his time and let the regular police deal with me. No, that wouldn’t do at all. That wouldn’t give me the fix I need. So every time I make sure I pose some kind of threat. Occasionally I will take someone hostage. That is a sure fire way to get Batman’s attention. But more often than not, I simply light a fire. A small one made from slow burning materials. I always start small. Just a little fire. Just enough to pose an immanent threat. His favorite type. Plus I will admit that I am a sucker for the way Batman looks by firelight. The way the flames play across his armor and throw his dark eyes even further into shadow. It makes me weak in the knees.
When he finally emerges from the shadows…. I wish I could describe to you the way I feel when I see him. I always have the breath go out of me. Every time. There is this moment when we both just stare at each other. We know the steps of this dance. I am his eager partner. I try to run but not to escape. He catches me. His body wraps around mine, preventing me from fleeing. His arms circle my chest like iron. He presses his body to mine limiting my movement. His armor is unyielding and he presses me to him with such strength that the armor digs into my skin leaving dark bruises on my skin like souvenirs. If I attempt to kick at his legs he will reposition himself, sliding an arm down across my stomach and gripping my hips. I grind back into him. My body fitting perfectly into his. Like two halves of a whole. I steal these seconds from the situation at hand. For those few moments I close my eyes and concentrate on nothing but the feel of his body against mine. His breath on my neck. For those stolen seconds Batman is mine.
But all too quickly it will be over. He will ruin it. He will break away and I will be in handcuffs. And I find myself back here explaining to you who I am and why I do the things I do.
Does it help you Doc? Knowing who I am and my motivation. Does it help you build your profile? I hope so. Because you’re right Doc. I’m sick. Each day I get worse. Every night I watch the skyline from my window. The bars don’t stop me from seeing him darting in and out of sight. The longer I am away from him the more I want him. The longer I have to watch him through the bars the more this want feels like a need. A need I can’t continue to deny. A need I won’t deny.
I’m sorry Doc. How does the line go? By the time you read this I’ll be gone. The Joker made me an offer I have no intention of refusing. I guess you could say I have been offered a promotion. I really hate to leave you after we’ve just made such a breakthrough in my case but I can’t exactly do this job from my cell here in Arkham, can I? I knew you would understand. So, goodbye Doc. I’m off to build a Batbox.
Cue the alarms….
Labyrinth Fan Fic Chapter 1 THIS INCLUDES SEX!!! EXPLICIT! NFW!
This is Chapter 1 of my Labyrinth Fan Fiction series. Labyrinth is the Jim Henson flic staring a scrumptous David Bowie. It is very graphic and very sexually explicit.
Last chance not to read!!!
Chapter 1
The man buried between Sarah’s thighs let out a wet slurping sound. She squirmed ever so slightly readjusting the pillow under her head. She let her hands rest upon her pert breasts where she began pinching and rubbing her nipples trying to bring some passion forth from her body. To no avail. She held her breath, squeezed her nipples, and tried desperately to enjoy the pleasure the man going down on her was attempting to give her. She looked down at him. His close cropped curly brown hair was thinning at the crown leaving more scalp than she found attractive.
“Poor John” Sarah thought to herself. “Wait.. Was his name John?” Sarah thought for a moment. Now that she came to think of it she wasn’t sure. She remembered he had asked her to dinner after a brief exchange in the Laundromat. She remembered he was a real estate agent but she couldn’t remember if his name was John. It could have been Jim or James. She felt a rush of blood reach her cheeks and found she was even less into the oral than she had been a minute ago.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t any good. He was, she told herself. Any woman on earth would kill for a man to eat her pussy for, she glanced at the clock, God had it really only been 10 minutes? It felt like an hour at least. She felt his tongue ringing her clit. Any normal person, she told herself, would have cum by now.
From another time a drawling lyrical voice echoed in her ears “But you aren’t a normal girl, Sarah”.
A grunt of annoyance escaped from her throat. Jim, John or James unvacumed himself from her with the sound of a plunger being removed from a stopped up sink. Sarah covered the moment by altering her voice into a grunt of apparent pleasure and pinching her nipples in a very seductive way. John smiled and dove back down south. Sarah felt his mouth fasten over her lower lips. She closed her eyes and waited for the surge of pleasure.
It did not come.
Frustration threatened to smother her. Another one, she thought. Another one, another man and still NOTHING. No sensation. No pleasure. No nothing.
“But you know all you need do.” The drawl said. This time the voice was crystal clear and close.
Sarah snapped her eyes open and sure enough there he was at the foot of her bed behind John. Her bed was a big old antique. Two large posts connected by wrought iron and topped with iron spheres served as the headboard while the footboard was a smaller version of the headboard. He was perched on the left post of the footboard. His feet curled delicately around the sphere as he crouched there. His magnificent robes made from white feathers and fur fell gracefully behind him. In fact everything about him fell gracefully. His hair seemed to explode out of his head and fall down past his shoulders with grace. His oversized old fashioned poet’s shirt fell open to mid-chest, revealing a glimpse of his perfectly smooth porcelain skin stretched taught over muscles that rippled with strength. His hands rested upon his outturned knees as he crouched on the sphere. Sarah dared not look at his face. But she doubted she could have owing to her direct line of sight of his midsection. He was, as ever, adorned in only the thinnest of materials, something between tissue paper and mist, stretched tight over his legs and crotch. His giant package was clearly visible through the material. Though not rigid his penis was still impressively enormous.
As Sarah stared at his form perched upon her bedpost. She mouthed the words What Are You Doing Here?
Jareth put his hand to his ear as if he could not understand what she was trying to say. Sarah grumbled. A sound of concern came from her crotch but she silenced it with a fake moan.
“What do you want?” Sarah thought to Jareth.
Jareth smiled and Sarah’s eyes involuntarily leapt to it. His smile was brilliant. It illuminated his beautiful face. It made his skin sparkle and his eyes twinkle. Sarah found herself gazing into those eyes. For a long moment Jareth merely held her gaze. When she looked into his eyes she couldn’t help wanting him. Desire flooded her chest. Naked, raw yearning seized her. For what felt like the first time that night she felt the tongue lapping at her clit. She felt its velvety texture. The smallest movement of its’ smooth surface set off a tremor that traveled from her clit through her body to the ends of her fingers and toes. A genuine gasp of pleasure escaped her.
A satisfied murmur resonated into her pussy. Sarah ripped her eyes away from Jareth’s.
“Don’t do that.” She thought and in her mind she hissed the words.
This time Jareth answered her out loud. “Why?” John did not notice either Jareth’s words or his presence.
Sarah thought hissed “Because I said so.”
Jareth laughed and his laugh had substance. It was warm water running over her spine. She shuddered. He answered her “But Sarah you say so many things you don’t mean.”
“I mean this.” She argued in her mind.
Sarah felt a rushing, as if something was flying at her and her clit throbbed almost painfully at the same moment she felt thousands of lips kissing all over her naked breasts and neck. His beautiful voice echoed in her mind “No you don’t.” The sensation was so intense her hips bucked of their own accord.
“Stop!” Sarah said breathlessly out loud.
John unsuctioned himself and lifted his head. “What?” he asked her, his face the picture of concern.
“Nothing.” Sarah said as she hastily pushed his face back towards her now wet pussy. But this time she felt none of the velvet. It was simply John’s tongue.
Sarah exhaled slowly before looking back at Jareth. He sat there exactly the same with a most amused expression playing across his gorgeous face. His beauty unnerved her. She felt dirty. Not because of him but because of how much she wanted him. She ached for him. There were times where she even thought she needed him.
“So why do you deny yourself?” He asked, having read her thoughts play out across her face.
Upset for letting her guard slip she retorted tartly in her mind “You know very well why. Because I don’t love you.”
Jareth flashed his brilliant teeth and uttered “Is that all?”
It happened again. She felt his mouth all over her body. She felt his lips tracing the skin of her breast, traveling slowly to her nipples which hardened immediately in response. Her entire pussy convulsed. Jim/John/James was no longer licking her slit. Jareth’s tongue lapped at her causing waves of pleasure to was over her. Just as her clit felt ready to burst she felt John’s tongue return. Her attention followed Jareth as his kisses traveled up to her neck, wracking her body in seizures of pleasure. The swarms of delicate kisses stopped just as they reached her mouth. He made no attempt to make her feel his kiss on her lips but she felt his presence lingering just above them. As if he was an inch away. She could almost feel his warm breath on her face.
John had mistaken her seizures for an orgasm and detached himself from her crotch. He smiled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was up on his knees, naked. Sarah could see John’s cock was rock hard.
“Did you like that?” Jim/John/James asked her. His voice dripped pride.
“Uh yeah.” Sarah said suddenly distracted by Jareth standing, balancing with no effort, on the bed post. Sarah could see all too clearly that Jareth was also hard as steel beneath his skimpy tights.
John’s face fell and Sarah was recalled to her surroundings. She smiled at him to try to cover the awkward moment.
“Yeah you were great.” She lied.
The smile leapt back to Jim/John/James’ face and he quickly grabbed a condom off the bedside table and began fumbling to put it on. Behind him Jareth began to walk impossibly across the ironwork that connected the bed posts. Sarah couldn’t help following him with her eyes. The iron work could never have supported a normal person’s weight. But Jareth wasn’t normal. He was magical.
Jareth ran his hand through his hair. Sarah followed his movement, entranced by the delicate beauty of that hand. Jareth let the hand move slowly across his chest, downward past his stomach and coming to rest upon the stiffness in his pants. His hand moved very slowly up and down the massive length of it. Sarah’s eyes followed it hungrily. She watched as he stroked his cock beneath the thin material. Sarah’s pussy burned red hot and moisture began creeping down her thigh.
From very far away Sarah heard her name being called. She shook her head to try to clear it and remember the man in her bed.
He was looking quite concerned but she smiled and he forgot his troubles.
“Do you want to lie down?” John asked her, indicating for her to lie on her back.
Sarah glanced past him to Jareth who was standing in the center of the iron work, filling the whole space between bed and her low ceiling. He had hooked his thumb into the waist band of his pants and was ever so slightly pulling it down. Sarah felt herself being entranced by the minute piece of his skin he had exposed. She shook her head to clear it and said “no. Do you mind if I flip over?”
John looked confused for a second and then hugely happy when Sarah got onto her hands and knees.
There was a clumsy bumping and thumping behind her and then with a satisfied moan John found his way into her pussy. He wasn’t small, maybe 6 inches, but he may as well have not been inside her for all the notice Sarah took.
She had gotten on her hands and knees so she could turn away from the inhumanly beautiful man she wanted so badly. But when she settled into the rhythm that John was pounding out on her she opened her eyes to find Jareth's crotch inches from her face. He was leaning against the headboards’ ironwork. His stance wasn’t particularly vulgar. As ever he looked as if he simply belonged there. However Sarah couldn’t help but notice that the bulge in his tights was at the exact perfect height for Sarah to suck his dick.
Sarah closed her eyes to try to keep control of herself. Because despite the fact that she didn’t love him. Despite what he had done to her, what he had done to her family. Despite all of that she wanted to. She never wanted to suck a dick so badly. She wanted to feel his cock sliding across her tongue. To feel it’s thickness at the back of her mouth. To feel his head pushing itself into her throat. She tried desperately to push these images from her head.
She was having very little luck when she felt Jareth’s delicate fingers running through her hair.
“Why do you fight your own desires?” Jareth asked her. There was no mockery in his voice now. The mockery was replaced by a roughness. Sarah recognized it. Jareth’s voice was naked with desire. She wasn’t the only one being tortured by her decision.
“Because.” She answered him in her mind half trying to remind herself. “I don’t love you. And I won’t be your conquest.” It seemed a flimsy excuse when at any moment she would die of the desire she felt for him.
Jareth entwined his hand in her long brown hair. He pulled her head forward till it was millimeters from his rigid cock. Her lips quivered. It took all of her restraint not to leap forward and rip away that skimpy material separating her from real pleasure.
“But you have it wrong Sarah. You are not conquered. It is I who am your slave.” Even in the position they were in his voice still rang with sincerity. She knew it. She was the one in power here. She told him no and he wouldn’t force her. No matter how much both of them wanted him to.
“I don’t love you.” She countered, breathlessly in her mind. She had never been able to think clearly around him during the best of times. Right now she could barely remember to breathe her desire was fierce. It threatened to rip her apart from the inside out. A beast too long denied.
She felt Jareth’s hand move beneath her chin. Gently he tilted her head up as he slid to his knees before her until he was face to face with her. His lips as close as she had felt them earlier. She struggled to breathe. She felt his words on her lips. “I love you Sarah.” And then his lips crushed her. They moved frantically on hers and she found herself responding with equal enthusiasm. She opened her mouth and felt his tongue search out hers. They melded together. They didn’t breathe, there was no thinking. There was only the connection they forged, hot as fire, between their lips.
All too quickly he pulled away, breaking the connection. She closed her eyes, gasping for breath, afraid she may black out. Then she heard his voice in her ear “Tell me to make love to you.”
Sarah choked out in her mind a “No.”
She felt his energy shift in a second. There was anger permeating his desire now. Her answer had made his blood boil. He was not used to being denied what he wanted. And never before had he wanted something or someone so much. Nor had he ever been denied so long. She watched all this play out across Jareth’s tortured face. No, she didn’t love him. But she wanted him like no other. She felt her blood itself aching for him. And all the years she had denied herself seemed tangible. All the pleasure she had said no to for so many years seemed to reawaken within her now. The wetness of her pussy had spread to her thighs. Her skin screamed for his touch. This wasn’t want. This was pure unadulterated need. She felt she might die from it.
The words she had fought for so long escaped her lips. “Fuck me.”
Jareth’s’ eyes snapped to hers. The need so clear in them but at the same time he needed to be sure.
“Tell me again.” He stammered. His body shook slightly as he fought to control himself.
Sarah looked directly into his glorious eyes. She was tired of fighting it. She didn’t want to fight it.
“Fuck me.” She said out loud.
Jareth smiled as a panther must smile when he is assured a juicy meal. Then in a rushing he disappeared from in front of her. Instead she felt John sliding in her pussy. But his grunts and groans disappeared. His cock began to lengthen within her, like it was being pushed in another four inches. It made her gasp. The rough hands that had been holding her hips transformed into a delicate, firm grip. Jareth slammed his cock into her wet cunt. Again and again. He slammed into her so hard she knew she would be bruised in the morning but right now it did not matter. She grinded back against him, trying to push him even further into her aching pussy. His hands moved up her back. One snaked its way into her hair and pulled her head up, holding her firmly upright. The other reached around her chest and began to grab her tits. The feeling was incredible. She no longer felt in control of her body. She was his. And for once she didn’t care. She wanted to be his. She felt the warm pleasure rising in her cunt. Like she would explode.
She managed to breathe the words “I’m…. gonna….”
But the orgasm reached her before she could utter the word. She felt as if the pleasure was ripped from her. She came so violently that she wasn’t even aware that she was still sliding up and down on his cock, milking every bit of the orgasm that she could. The moment he felt her orgasm crash over her Jareth let himself go too, pumping his cum deep into her belly. It felt fantastic. It felt right. In that moment, as she came all over his cock and he came inside of her, they both felt complete.
Slowly the orgasm waned and she fought to control her breathing. A voice behind her startled her. “Damn”
She had forgotten John/Jim/James had been the vessel Jareth had merely occupied. His voice had broken the spell. Jareth was gone and she was alone with the man she didn’t even know. Anger lapped at her senses.
John was trying to lie down beside her but seemed to be having trouble controlling his legs. They had the consistency of cooked spaghetti. Though he was grinning ear to ear. Clearly it had been the best sex of his life. He stared at the ceiling and muttered “That…was… INCREDABLE.”
Sarah answered “Yeah” before getting up from the bed. She didn’t want to stay there one minute more with this man. She walked blindly to the bathroom where she sought sanctuary. She went in and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against the wall and let it all wash over her. What she had done. Had allowed. She had been so good for so long. But her thoughts were turned aside as her image began to ripple in the mirror. It distorted for a moment before coming back into focus. Jareth peered out at her from the mirror.
“Come to me.” He whispered.
“No” Sarah said clearly.
The image shimmered for a moment before disappearing, leaving nothing but her own tormented face staring back at her.
Last chance not to read!!!
Chapter 1
The man buried between Sarah’s thighs let out a wet slurping sound. She squirmed ever so slightly readjusting the pillow under her head. She let her hands rest upon her pert breasts where she began pinching and rubbing her nipples trying to bring some passion forth from her body. To no avail. She held her breath, squeezed her nipples, and tried desperately to enjoy the pleasure the man going down on her was attempting to give her. She looked down at him. His close cropped curly brown hair was thinning at the crown leaving more scalp than she found attractive.
“Poor John” Sarah thought to herself. “Wait.. Was his name John?” Sarah thought for a moment. Now that she came to think of it she wasn’t sure. She remembered he had asked her to dinner after a brief exchange in the Laundromat. She remembered he was a real estate agent but she couldn’t remember if his name was John. It could have been Jim or James. She felt a rush of blood reach her cheeks and found she was even less into the oral than she had been a minute ago.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t any good. He was, she told herself. Any woman on earth would kill for a man to eat her pussy for, she glanced at the clock, God had it really only been 10 minutes? It felt like an hour at least. She felt his tongue ringing her clit. Any normal person, she told herself, would have cum by now.
From another time a drawling lyrical voice echoed in her ears “But you aren’t a normal girl, Sarah”.
A grunt of annoyance escaped from her throat. Jim, John or James unvacumed himself from her with the sound of a plunger being removed from a stopped up sink. Sarah covered the moment by altering her voice into a grunt of apparent pleasure and pinching her nipples in a very seductive way. John smiled and dove back down south. Sarah felt his mouth fasten over her lower lips. She closed her eyes and waited for the surge of pleasure.
It did not come.
Frustration threatened to smother her. Another one, she thought. Another one, another man and still NOTHING. No sensation. No pleasure. No nothing.
“But you know all you need do.” The drawl said. This time the voice was crystal clear and close.
Sarah snapped her eyes open and sure enough there he was at the foot of her bed behind John. Her bed was a big old antique. Two large posts connected by wrought iron and topped with iron spheres served as the headboard while the footboard was a smaller version of the headboard. He was perched on the left post of the footboard. His feet curled delicately around the sphere as he crouched there. His magnificent robes made from white feathers and fur fell gracefully behind him. In fact everything about him fell gracefully. His hair seemed to explode out of his head and fall down past his shoulders with grace. His oversized old fashioned poet’s shirt fell open to mid-chest, revealing a glimpse of his perfectly smooth porcelain skin stretched taught over muscles that rippled with strength. His hands rested upon his outturned knees as he crouched on the sphere. Sarah dared not look at his face. But she doubted she could have owing to her direct line of sight of his midsection. He was, as ever, adorned in only the thinnest of materials, something between tissue paper and mist, stretched tight over his legs and crotch. His giant package was clearly visible through the material. Though not rigid his penis was still impressively enormous.
As Sarah stared at his form perched upon her bedpost. She mouthed the words What Are You Doing Here?
Jareth put his hand to his ear as if he could not understand what she was trying to say. Sarah grumbled. A sound of concern came from her crotch but she silenced it with a fake moan.
“What do you want?” Sarah thought to Jareth.
Jareth smiled and Sarah’s eyes involuntarily leapt to it. His smile was brilliant. It illuminated his beautiful face. It made his skin sparkle and his eyes twinkle. Sarah found herself gazing into those eyes. For a long moment Jareth merely held her gaze. When she looked into his eyes she couldn’t help wanting him. Desire flooded her chest. Naked, raw yearning seized her. For what felt like the first time that night she felt the tongue lapping at her clit. She felt its velvety texture. The smallest movement of its’ smooth surface set off a tremor that traveled from her clit through her body to the ends of her fingers and toes. A genuine gasp of pleasure escaped her.
A satisfied murmur resonated into her pussy. Sarah ripped her eyes away from Jareth’s.
“Don’t do that.” She thought and in her mind she hissed the words.
This time Jareth answered her out loud. “Why?” John did not notice either Jareth’s words or his presence.
Sarah thought hissed “Because I said so.”
Jareth laughed and his laugh had substance. It was warm water running over her spine. She shuddered. He answered her “But Sarah you say so many things you don’t mean.”
“I mean this.” She argued in her mind.
Sarah felt a rushing, as if something was flying at her and her clit throbbed almost painfully at the same moment she felt thousands of lips kissing all over her naked breasts and neck. His beautiful voice echoed in her mind “No you don’t.” The sensation was so intense her hips bucked of their own accord.
“Stop!” Sarah said breathlessly out loud.
John unsuctioned himself and lifted his head. “What?” he asked her, his face the picture of concern.
“Nothing.” Sarah said as she hastily pushed his face back towards her now wet pussy. But this time she felt none of the velvet. It was simply John’s tongue.
Sarah exhaled slowly before looking back at Jareth. He sat there exactly the same with a most amused expression playing across his gorgeous face. His beauty unnerved her. She felt dirty. Not because of him but because of how much she wanted him. She ached for him. There were times where she even thought she needed him.
“So why do you deny yourself?” He asked, having read her thoughts play out across her face.
Upset for letting her guard slip she retorted tartly in her mind “You know very well why. Because I don’t love you.”
Jareth flashed his brilliant teeth and uttered “Is that all?”
It happened again. She felt his mouth all over her body. She felt his lips tracing the skin of her breast, traveling slowly to her nipples which hardened immediately in response. Her entire pussy convulsed. Jim/John/James was no longer licking her slit. Jareth’s tongue lapped at her causing waves of pleasure to was over her. Just as her clit felt ready to burst she felt John’s tongue return. Her attention followed Jareth as his kisses traveled up to her neck, wracking her body in seizures of pleasure. The swarms of delicate kisses stopped just as they reached her mouth. He made no attempt to make her feel his kiss on her lips but she felt his presence lingering just above them. As if he was an inch away. She could almost feel his warm breath on her face.
John had mistaken her seizures for an orgasm and detached himself from her crotch. He smiled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was up on his knees, naked. Sarah could see John’s cock was rock hard.
“Did you like that?” Jim/John/James asked her. His voice dripped pride.
“Uh yeah.” Sarah said suddenly distracted by Jareth standing, balancing with no effort, on the bed post. Sarah could see all too clearly that Jareth was also hard as steel beneath his skimpy tights.
John’s face fell and Sarah was recalled to her surroundings. She smiled at him to try to cover the awkward moment.
“Yeah you were great.” She lied.
The smile leapt back to Jim/John/James’ face and he quickly grabbed a condom off the bedside table and began fumbling to put it on. Behind him Jareth began to walk impossibly across the ironwork that connected the bed posts. Sarah couldn’t help following him with her eyes. The iron work could never have supported a normal person’s weight. But Jareth wasn’t normal. He was magical.
Jareth ran his hand through his hair. Sarah followed his movement, entranced by the delicate beauty of that hand. Jareth let the hand move slowly across his chest, downward past his stomach and coming to rest upon the stiffness in his pants. His hand moved very slowly up and down the massive length of it. Sarah’s eyes followed it hungrily. She watched as he stroked his cock beneath the thin material. Sarah’s pussy burned red hot and moisture began creeping down her thigh.
From very far away Sarah heard her name being called. She shook her head to try to clear it and remember the man in her bed.
He was looking quite concerned but she smiled and he forgot his troubles.
“Do you want to lie down?” John asked her, indicating for her to lie on her back.
Sarah glanced past him to Jareth who was standing in the center of the iron work, filling the whole space between bed and her low ceiling. He had hooked his thumb into the waist band of his pants and was ever so slightly pulling it down. Sarah felt herself being entranced by the minute piece of his skin he had exposed. She shook her head to clear it and said “no. Do you mind if I flip over?”
John looked confused for a second and then hugely happy when Sarah got onto her hands and knees.
There was a clumsy bumping and thumping behind her and then with a satisfied moan John found his way into her pussy. He wasn’t small, maybe 6 inches, but he may as well have not been inside her for all the notice Sarah took.
She had gotten on her hands and knees so she could turn away from the inhumanly beautiful man she wanted so badly. But when she settled into the rhythm that John was pounding out on her she opened her eyes to find Jareth's crotch inches from her face. He was leaning against the headboards’ ironwork. His stance wasn’t particularly vulgar. As ever he looked as if he simply belonged there. However Sarah couldn’t help but notice that the bulge in his tights was at the exact perfect height for Sarah to suck his dick.
Sarah closed her eyes to try to keep control of herself. Because despite the fact that she didn’t love him. Despite what he had done to her, what he had done to her family. Despite all of that she wanted to. She never wanted to suck a dick so badly. She wanted to feel his cock sliding across her tongue. To feel it’s thickness at the back of her mouth. To feel his head pushing itself into her throat. She tried desperately to push these images from her head.
She was having very little luck when she felt Jareth’s delicate fingers running through her hair.
“Why do you fight your own desires?” Jareth asked her. There was no mockery in his voice now. The mockery was replaced by a roughness. Sarah recognized it. Jareth’s voice was naked with desire. She wasn’t the only one being tortured by her decision.
“Because.” She answered him in her mind half trying to remind herself. “I don’t love you. And I won’t be your conquest.” It seemed a flimsy excuse when at any moment she would die of the desire she felt for him.
Jareth entwined his hand in her long brown hair. He pulled her head forward till it was millimeters from his rigid cock. Her lips quivered. It took all of her restraint not to leap forward and rip away that skimpy material separating her from real pleasure.
“But you have it wrong Sarah. You are not conquered. It is I who am your slave.” Even in the position they were in his voice still rang with sincerity. She knew it. She was the one in power here. She told him no and he wouldn’t force her. No matter how much both of them wanted him to.
“I don’t love you.” She countered, breathlessly in her mind. She had never been able to think clearly around him during the best of times. Right now she could barely remember to breathe her desire was fierce. It threatened to rip her apart from the inside out. A beast too long denied.
She felt Jareth’s hand move beneath her chin. Gently he tilted her head up as he slid to his knees before her until he was face to face with her. His lips as close as she had felt them earlier. She struggled to breathe. She felt his words on her lips. “I love you Sarah.” And then his lips crushed her. They moved frantically on hers and she found herself responding with equal enthusiasm. She opened her mouth and felt his tongue search out hers. They melded together. They didn’t breathe, there was no thinking. There was only the connection they forged, hot as fire, between their lips.
All too quickly he pulled away, breaking the connection. She closed her eyes, gasping for breath, afraid she may black out. Then she heard his voice in her ear “Tell me to make love to you.”
Sarah choked out in her mind a “No.”
She felt his energy shift in a second. There was anger permeating his desire now. Her answer had made his blood boil. He was not used to being denied what he wanted. And never before had he wanted something or someone so much. Nor had he ever been denied so long. She watched all this play out across Jareth’s tortured face. No, she didn’t love him. But she wanted him like no other. She felt her blood itself aching for him. And all the years she had denied herself seemed tangible. All the pleasure she had said no to for so many years seemed to reawaken within her now. The wetness of her pussy had spread to her thighs. Her skin screamed for his touch. This wasn’t want. This was pure unadulterated need. She felt she might die from it.
The words she had fought for so long escaped her lips. “Fuck me.”
Jareth’s’ eyes snapped to hers. The need so clear in them but at the same time he needed to be sure.
“Tell me again.” He stammered. His body shook slightly as he fought to control himself.
Sarah looked directly into his glorious eyes. She was tired of fighting it. She didn’t want to fight it.
“Fuck me.” She said out loud.
Jareth smiled as a panther must smile when he is assured a juicy meal. Then in a rushing he disappeared from in front of her. Instead she felt John sliding in her pussy. But his grunts and groans disappeared. His cock began to lengthen within her, like it was being pushed in another four inches. It made her gasp. The rough hands that had been holding her hips transformed into a delicate, firm grip. Jareth slammed his cock into her wet cunt. Again and again. He slammed into her so hard she knew she would be bruised in the morning but right now it did not matter. She grinded back against him, trying to push him even further into her aching pussy. His hands moved up her back. One snaked its way into her hair and pulled her head up, holding her firmly upright. The other reached around her chest and began to grab her tits. The feeling was incredible. She no longer felt in control of her body. She was his. And for once she didn’t care. She wanted to be his. She felt the warm pleasure rising in her cunt. Like she would explode.
She managed to breathe the words “I’m…. gonna….”
But the orgasm reached her before she could utter the word. She felt as if the pleasure was ripped from her. She came so violently that she wasn’t even aware that she was still sliding up and down on his cock, milking every bit of the orgasm that she could. The moment he felt her orgasm crash over her Jareth let himself go too, pumping his cum deep into her belly. It felt fantastic. It felt right. In that moment, as she came all over his cock and he came inside of her, they both felt complete.
Slowly the orgasm waned and she fought to control her breathing. A voice behind her startled her. “Damn”
She had forgotten John/Jim/James had been the vessel Jareth had merely occupied. His voice had broken the spell. Jareth was gone and she was alone with the man she didn’t even know. Anger lapped at her senses.
John was trying to lie down beside her but seemed to be having trouble controlling his legs. They had the consistency of cooked spaghetti. Though he was grinning ear to ear. Clearly it had been the best sex of his life. He stared at the ceiling and muttered “That…was… INCREDABLE.”
Sarah answered “Yeah” before getting up from the bed. She didn’t want to stay there one minute more with this man. She walked blindly to the bathroom where she sought sanctuary. She went in and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against the wall and let it all wash over her. What she had done. Had allowed. She had been so good for so long. But her thoughts were turned aside as her image began to ripple in the mirror. It distorted for a moment before coming back into focus. Jareth peered out at her from the mirror.
“Come to me.” He whispered.
“No” Sarah said clearly.
The image shimmered for a moment before disappearing, leaving nothing but her own tormented face staring back at her.
Introducing...ME!!
From the deepest nook of the darkest cranny of the internet a form emerges.
Hello!
I figure since I have had this blog for ever and a day it may be time to actually do something with it. So here goes.
I know I'm supposed to tell you a bit about me but I am the worst about talking about myself. Instead I will give you the overview and you will just have to get to know me. I'm a kinky switchy lady who enjoys life and those who do as well. My favorite thing to do in the world is read and write. I write all the time which is partly why I am utilizing this blog. So I might be able to share some of that with the world. That would be you.
I will warn you before you read any of my stories. I tend to get edgy. I cover material that is not considered conventional or socially acceptable. So if that offends you then please don't read it! I will endeavor to label these posts so no one inadvertently comes across it but it's really up to you. If you don't like what I write, I repeat, DON'T READ IT!!!
Otherwise, enjoy!
Hello!
I figure since I have had this blog for ever and a day it may be time to actually do something with it. So here goes.
I know I'm supposed to tell you a bit about me but I am the worst about talking about myself. Instead I will give you the overview and you will just have to get to know me. I'm a kinky switchy lady who enjoys life and those who do as well. My favorite thing to do in the world is read and write. I write all the time which is partly why I am utilizing this blog. So I might be able to share some of that with the world. That would be you.
I will warn you before you read any of my stories. I tend to get edgy. I cover material that is not considered conventional or socially acceptable. So if that offends you then please don't read it! I will endeavor to label these posts so no one inadvertently comes across it but it's really up to you. If you don't like what I write, I repeat, DON'T READ IT!!!
Otherwise, enjoy!
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