Catching Feelings
I didn't thought we could get so close. I didn't thought about what would happen if one day I fell and couldn't get up because I'm too deep, deep in love. It always ends that way when it starts with intense sexual attraction, the type of attraction that makes you shiver at sight, the type of attraction that makes your heart race with lightening speed, the type of attraction that kills you when you're in public because you can't have your way, that type of attraction.
She didn't come over that night. That night I died, died helpless, died with hopes that she would eventually come. The next day she did, twice, after intense foreplay, after minutes of trying to get it in without hurting her, after sex, she came twice. I asked her if she was ok and mindless and satisfied she nods, yes.
Its night time, she's here. She wants to, even more than I want to. She taunts and taunts until I eventually give in. I kissed her and slowly ran my hand down from her chest to her pussy. I could feel her heart racing as I slowly rub her. As she wets, I slip my fingers in slowly, one by one, starting with my index finger, then my middle fingers, barely, it couldn't fit. I tried stripping her, but she wouldn't let me, maybe it's because we weren't alone. I took her to the bed and lay her as gently as I could on the bed while I stand off the side. I lift her skirt and pull her lace to the left, dropping my cargo and hanes to my knees, pulling back my jewless foreskin, lubing my dick with spit and I slowly and cautiously enter. "WAIT", she quietly and desirably begged and I did, then I didn't. I tried again slowly, then it went in. I slowly work her open, she holds me, she holds me hard. We stopped and I died. She went home numb.
She's in love, deep in. She always silently tells me how much she's taken by me, how much she belongs to me, but my own stubborn resistance, resistance to love, resistance to happiness, always resist her. She tells me she loves me and I laugh to hide that I kind of feel that way too, to hide that I think it's ridiculous, to hide the embarrassment of me being incapable of being loved and to hide my true excitement, I laugh. We fucked again, three times again, until it became our routine. It was almost like if we didn't something was wrong. I wanted to try something new, not new for me but new for her. My hand discovered her pussy again, my middle finger still couldn't fit. I tried new positions; on her knees, on top of me, I picked her up and she sat down. She did it once before, but I wasn't in the mood, something was on my mind, but this time I was and she was too. On her knees, she slowly and unsurely place it on her tongue and a sensation swallow my being as she pretend to swallow it. Each time we fucked, I was never fortunate to cum, maybe it's because time was always against us, or maybe I was just meant to have longevity. All the time I would think about what if we had all the time in world, or if we had all of the night. My mind would wander wild in sadistic forestry, or wander off into an abiss of sweaty and aggressive sex. I'd start by taking her hand and pulling her close to me until there's no room for us to fall in love, then I'll place tiny kisses on her lips down to her neck while grabbing her ass. I'll take her top and her bra off then take my tiny kisses to her nipples turning them into dog gulps, sucking them until they become rock hard. I'd surprise her with a shove against the wall, biting her lips, neck and nipples, ripping away every single thread of her underwear, fingering her pussy almost like I'm digging a tunnel. I'd pick her up and throw her on the bed, bind her hands and let her legs hang free, then walk on my knees up to her face kneeling with my dick hanging in her face. I'd forcibly open her mouth and shove my dick in, causing her to gag continuously, fucking her mouth until tears run from her eyes and while a train of spit follow my dick after I pull it from her throat, I'd force my dick in her pussy until she screams. I snap out of it.
Regaining consciousness, I remember all my silly problems, the same silly problems that caused me head. I wasn't able to get it off my mind, the only way was to tell someone. I wrote it in a song and sang it from my room for which ever neighbor wanted to hear. At my window :
If I could change anything, about my past; I don't know if I would,
But I know that I can be a way better man for you, I hope you understand,
Anywhere you are…that's where I want to be,
It takes too to fall in love for a fair game, but I feel like it's just me.
I'm not the perfect star…but I don't want to be,
Don't lie to me…if you hate me.
I was comfortable singing for them, because they wouldn't know I wrote it, they wouldn't know what it's about, but if they had asked I would lie and tell them it's about a guy who loves a girl who doesn't love him back and that I didn't write it. Truthfully it's about my parents' rollercoaster relationship and how their push and shove affects me, turning me into a pretentious hopeless romantic.
This time I wasn't pretending, I was definitely catching feelings, feelings for someone who I egotistically say is not my type. Thinking to myself wondering if this is really love or simply just infatuation, I remember the warning; "one of you are bound to catch feelings", why is it two though.
I realize that this is nothing about being love or wanting to spend the rest of my life with her, it's just me thinking with my dick and I realize that because the only time I thought of her is when I'm horny. Thinking with my dick again I fall into the sadomasochism forestry again.