STORY: CAN DESIRE DO NO MORE THAN EVOKE THE STRONGEST MEMORIES

Clothed in only the moonlight streaming through her window, Maria drowsily rolls over onto her belly, nestling pillows beneath her. The breeze that caresses her flutters through the curtains above the bed like a lover's whisper and carries faintly a hint of the fragrances from the flowers in full bloom, the rose garden that is her pride and joy, even a monument to a joy once shared.

There is a pleasant ache that suffuses her body. She had begun at dawn and worked until evening glimmered along the horizon in her rose garden. It is in many ways a delicious sensation of muscles stretched and used after too long a time of indifference. Indeed, if but for a moment, this pleasing pain distracts her from the deeper ache in her heart, the echo of emptiness left by the recent her husband going to work.

In the hinterland of consciousness, gliding between reality and dreams, Maria wonders why the fragrance of the roses is suddenly stronger. A faint, preternatural stirring of the baby fine hairs at the back of her neck causes Maria to stretch, though languidly, the muscles of her back and legs a slow ripple.

She senses...what? It is as if someone is in the room with her, and yet, there is no fear, even at the soft stirring of her hair being brushed aside.

~I'm~ dreaming, she tells herself as the scent of rose grows stronger, and a gentle touch too smooth for human finger, softly grazes the back of her neck. It is cool, silken moving unhurriedly along her shoulders.

'...dreaming...,' she sighs, as a long, slow glide along her spine strokes, seems to stoke embers within her.

Dreaming or not, Maria finds herself reluctant to move, to disturb this flowing caress that touches her without ceasing. So light it is, she wonders why it does not tickle, rather it leaves faint trails along her body as if of meteors, bright and warm, as it journeys along her sides and over her buttocks, down her legs and back again, faintly brushing between her thighs.

Maria sighs, and rolls over. Suddenly, the sense of another presence in the room is far more palpable. Yet, her eyelids are so heavy, it is all she can do to barely open them...watch a shadow within shadows hovering above her. Alarms go off in her head, yet they are distant and fade quickly. It is far easier to believe she is dreaming, and perhaps she is, though the dream has a
sweet voice that whispers to her as she feels that maybe a butterfly has landed upon her cheek. It is a voice at once familiar and strange, one she tries to hear by straining to move deeper into sleep.

"As I upon my travels here passed this proud rose, it called to me," she hears. "Look, it said, look at me...nature's penultimate beauty. How can you resist my siren call? I but shook my head and smiled. Rose, I said to it, while you are quite lovely, there is one lovelier still who awaits me...and though in your company would I gladly spend time, yet must I be about my way to where she lays."

Maria feels the rose, for now she knows what it is, kiss her throat and move slowly between her breasts, tenderly circling each one in a slow figure eight back and forth. Tension is now flowing into her, but such a sweet tightness she casts away thought for sensation and the words that whisper in the dark to her and her alone.

"Ha, the rose did say in scorn, how could anything of earth compare to ME? I smiled again and told the rose, perhaps it is an angel that I seek, or seeks me, for truly she is of such beauty as to seem ethereal.

"Show me this beauty, demanded the rose, for until I have met such, I shall not believe any may surpass my splendor."

The rose full kisses Maria's nipples, and as eager buds they harden. The sweep of the velvety bloom along her body seems to draw the breath from her, and she finds herself breathing harder, faster, her heart beginning to pound as the flower, which has found itself down to worship her feet now ascends with agonizing slowness her slowly parting thighs.

She gasps, at the first touch of the rose upon her own passion's flower, already dewy with desire. The tender touch is almost too much to bear as her own petals swell, blossom...and the bud within eagerly rises up for the caress.

The rose then is gone...and Shelli sighs in frustration, wanting once again to feel, if even for a moment...she whispers, "...please..."

There is silence, a suspension of time that seems to draw on into eternity. Then comes the voice of shadow again, comforting in its familiarity, exciting in its strangeness.

"I fear this poor rose has now wilted in despair, having not only seen but tasted your sweetness. Thus, I offer in its place, my own kiss...knowing despair will wilt me not, rather will desire grow a stronger vine..."

Nearly as tender as the touch of the rose are the lips that first lightly brushes along Maria's outer lips, yet far warmer than the now discarded flower. Tenderly do they caress, and with infinite care to explore does a tongue weave its way between and about her open bloom of desire. For the moment, she feels as if she is a flower, and above her hovers a hummingbird that comes, not to feast, but to savor with each languid lick, subtle suck. And the feel of those lips,
like the voice she does not know if she remembers or imagines.

A gasp escapes her as the tongue sinuously parts her, enters slowly, probing, tasting...she reaches down, the fire within her so hot she feels as if a sun grows in her womb...she reaches down and entangles her fingers in a thick growth, eagerly pulling, yearning to have this dream reach its culmination.

There is warmth just above her body, a heat that though barely touching upon hers, nonetheless seeps into her, fills her. She reaches down and there, yes, there, a strong, firm throbbing stalk moves into her palm. Maria holds it there a moment, feeling the hardness within the silkiness of the tight stretched skin...and with infinite slowness, guides it to her own aching need.

She takes him in, slowly, feeling him fill her bit by bit until at last their bodies touch in soft, sweet collision. He is hard and long and she can feel him faintly pulsing within the close and narrow channel, the sensation of completeness...a feeling she thought she would never know again.

Tenderly, a kiss touches her cheek, her eyes, her lips. Now she can open her eyes, thinks she opens her eyes, perhaps only falling further and further into this dream for the face is vague and dark, yet there are eyes. Brown eyes, alight with inner fire and gentle humor...eyes she feels she could get lost in, wander as if through a field of summer forever. Brown eyes that seem to flow
from memory...

For the moment, together they join and do not move save for hands soft and warm caressing. His are firm upon her but gentle, hers tender yet eager...for what they feel is a long lean body of hard muscle and the scent of musky maleness more potent than a full garden of roses.

And she hears him say...

"What use an eager stem without a flower?

'Tis but a weed to be plucked, discarded

desolate and lonely, left to wither.

Ah, for such proud stalk this fate's too sordid.

And how may bud longing to blossom,

find reason to bloom detached from the vine

that carries sap for unfolding's ransom?

Full petals spread best when drunk on such wine.

Yet more is needed for stem and flower,

if sweeter, stronger, and finer to grow;

to weather storms and circumstances sere.

What ist? Ah, beloved, 'tis this we know.

Affection's warmth, tender showers of care;

what nurture's most desire, this love we share."


Then the time of words is done as slowly they begin to move together, rhythms ancient beyond memory, yet ever new and fresh. The poems now are written with lips and tongues and fingers and bodies writhing together gradually faster and faster, stronger. Synchronizing in motion, hearts beating as one, inexorably approaching the great divide from passion to satiation, across the abyss of climax, as if this phantom lover knew her as only one other man ever did.

Maria feels as if she is a cauldron, and within her, this bar of white hot metal drawing ever close to the melting point. Her legs wrap around his waist and draw him closer to her as she feels the trembling of her body echoed by the deep throb of him within her. The sound of labored breathing is the wind running before the storm and when that storm breaks there is the thunder and lightning of senses reeling nigh into oblivion. Maria cries out, hears her name called as if from a distance and all is lost in the swirl of sensation that blots out all of the rest of the universe.

Morning comes all too soon, it seems to Maria, as she stretches upon the bed. Sunlight warms her, but not nearly as much as the warmth she felt through the night.

"Heck of a dream," she laughs and wonders at the faint tingling of her skin, the feeling of moist warmth lingering between her thighs.

She laughs at the thought that, during that most vivid vision, she might have helped it along with her own nimble fingers. And in the midst of that laughter, she realizes is the seed of possibility for a new life to begin even as she will ever cherish the one she can only ever know in the treasury of her memories.

Maria laughs again, joyously...until, upon rolling over onto her side, she sees the pillow beside her...

...and upon it, a rose.

STORY: WHAT SHE LOVES ABOUT MAKING LOVE WITH ME

I love being on my hands and knees in front of a man. I love lowering my head and lifting my ass up in the air, offering myself to him. I love how wanton it makes me feel. I love the feeling of exposure that I have as I spread my legs, knowing he can see how wet my pussy is and how much I want his cock. How much I need his cock. I love the feeling of anticipation, the feeling of not knowing, of my pleasure being at his whim. I love the feel of that swollen silky smooth head on my skin, on my ass, the sticky sweet trail left by the precum as he drags it across me, marking me, branding me. I love how it feels as he teases my asshole and my pussy with it, pressing gently at first one, then the other, then back to the first again. Tantalizing. Denying. Keeping me guessing. I love knowing he can see me grow wetter with each passing minute as he does this.

I love closing my eyes as he touches me. I love the way it accentuates every other sense that I possess. The scent of him, strong and masculine. The scent of me, sharp and musky. Urgent. The sound of my own breathing. Soft. Quick. Heavy. His breath, deeper and powerful. I love to hear it in my ears and feel it on my skin at the same time. I love the way my skin tingles when it happens, when I feel his breath skate across it, followed by his fingers. I love the way his touch is magnified when I have my eyes closed. The calloused tips of his fingers, dancing intricate patterns on my skin, slow and seductive. I love how his touch trails fire across my skin. I love how his hands feel on me. Strong hands. Hands that can haul hay tirelessly, or pound fence posts into the ground. I love how they touch me. Softly, gently. Satin over steel.

I love the moment of penetration. I love the feeling when he finally slides deep into me, stretching me and filling me with one long smooth thrust of his hips. I love keeping my eyes closed. I love how all of my other senses seem to explode in a kaleidoscope of sensation right at that moment. I love feeling the sudden sharp shock of being filled. I love hearing his first brutal explosive grunt of pleasure. I love feeling the anticipated, but always surprising roughness of his thighs against the back of my legs. I love the way his fingers grip my hips tightly right at that moment, sinking into my flesh, anchoring me to the ground, anchoring me to him. I love feeling the strength in those fingers, feeling the need in his grip. I love the way he pauses, buried in me as deep as he can be, and I love being able to feel the pulse in his cock. I love that moment, where I can feel its heat inside me.

I love the way he fucks me, driving his hips back and forth. I love the way he makes my body respond, the way it presses back against him of its own volition, desperate for more of him, more cock, more fucking. I love the way the wet sounds become part of our pleasure, the guttural groans, and breathy moans. I love the way I can feel every single inch of him inside me. I love the way my pussy is so hypersensitive when my eyes are closed that I can almost feel every ridge and vein of his cock stroking in and out of me. I love to make the noises that he likes to hear. To tell him how good it feels. To tell him to fuck me harder, deeper, faster. To make me cum. To make me scream his name.

I love the way I can feel his thighs tense up behind me when he's right on the edge. I love the way he grips my hips even harder, pulling me back onto him, slamming himself into me one last time and holding himself there. I love the way I can make him moan when I tighten around him, hoarse masculine sounds. Flexing my muscles. Feeling myself clench. Velvet smooth, hot and wet. I love the feeling of his cock swelling inside me. I love that first initial spurt as he cums and then the heat and the wetness inside me, setting off my own orgasm. I love the feel of his name on my lips, the taste of it in my mouth, as I cum. I love pressing myself back towards him as we both cum, muscles locked and straining. Almost like two bodies trying to become one. I love hearing him draw in those deep, shuddering ragged breaths afterwards. His hands on my hips, but now it's for support. I love feeling his weight on me.

I love lying there afterwards on my side with him close behind me. Feeling the slick sweat between us. I love tracing my fingers over the arms that he wraps around me. I love feeling him inside me still, my body not wanting to let go of his cock. I love the feel of his entire body next to mine. Curve to curve. Contour to contour. Molded. A perfect fit. I love to hear his breathing return to normal, and I love how I know that he's smiling, even though I can't see him. I love the way he lifts his hand and strokes my hair away from my face before kissing me. His lips on my cheek. Another burning imprint. And I love the way his breath feels on my skin as he moves his mouth back to murmur in my ear. And I love the way his voice breaks when he whispers, "I love you." 

STORY: ROMANCE AND LUST IN EACH OTHERS ARMS

Their first meeting was more that they could have bargained for. She had exceeded his most untamed expectations. The woman was a lady in every sense of the word ... until that evening when they found themselves alone in the small cottage by the sea. Their expressiveness was agrarian in nature to say the very least. Now here they were, walking hand in hand back to the cottage. The cold wind coming from the Pacific was chilling and they laughed as they picked up the pace to reach their destination. The warmth of the cottage would be welcomed for sure.

The conversation was comprised of an aggregate of subjects. Children, marriages, and work, just to name a few. At last they stepped into the warmth of the small three-room cottage shutting the sound of the waves and the wind behind them with the closing of the thick wooden Dutch door. Without taking his jacket off, he walked to the stone fireplace and threw some fresh logs on the smoldering embers from the night before. In due time the crackling sounds of a roaring fire filled the room, and with it, the pungent smell of burning wood. He out of the blue realized that he was alone in the room, and as he begun to call out her name, he stopped. She had suddenly reappeared with two steamy cups of coffee from the cottage kitchen.

With her charming smile, she handed him a large cup, then sat down in front of the fireplace. Her large twinkling green eyes beckoning him, and he set the cup down on the wooden coffee table before removing his open coat ... hanging it on the hook behind the door. Then it seemed almost with a sense of urgency that he hurried to her side and joined her on the floor in front of the large hearth. The warmth of the fireplace was as welcome as was her smile.

They started to pick up their conversation where they had left off when suddenly they both stopped talking. A strange smile appeared on their faces as they drew closer together. Once again in each other's arms they began to explore.

Hands became as busy as the jumping flames in the stone fire bin. Then with out a word, she slowly stood and looked down at him. His eyes were glued to her form as she unhurriedly unbuttoned her slacks. The sweater quickly disappeared and there she stood. Clad in nothing but a lace thong and a matching bra. Her skin seemed to glow in the wintry light that crept through the dingy windows, accented by the warm glow of the fire. Her mouth moved slowly as she spoke.

"I think I'm a tad bit ahead of you in the clothing removal sequence darling." She looked at him in such a way that he couldn't reply, but he did stand and hastily remove his sweater and jeans. She could easily see his state of arousal. And it was with little hesitation that she quickly removed the folded blanket from the low chest sitting next to the couch. In an instant it was laid out in front of the floor almost as if choreographed at some strange time and place.

"Why don't you lay down Darling? Get comfortable." She said in her Southern tone.

Without objection he lay on the floor and watches her as she moved closer to him. Standing at his side, she began to sway, almost as if in a dance. Dancing to the music in their hearts. He watched as she undid the front snap of her bra, holding her breast as she swayed to and fro. "Oh my Dear," she said in a hushed tone. "I'm getting drenched. You have a very wonderful effect on me Love."

He looked up ... licking his dry lips, trying to speak clearly. "As do you on me Baby Girl. So much so, that I still feel weak kneed."

She raised her eyebrow at his response, and then let the bra fall freely to the floor. Without hesitation, she pulled at her lacy thong and added it to the inventory of clothing piled on the floor.

He remembered the softness of her body from the evening before and looked at her admiringly as she moved to his side. Standing above him, she placed a foot on each side of his head and smiled at him. It was her smile. That cock of her head, that expression in her eye that aroused him so. She continued to move as if in a dance with a ghost. Then to his pleasure, she began to lower herself. Bit by bit, she descended until she was on her knees, her fingers now playing in his thick hair. Her eyelids slowly closed with anticipation as she lowered herself to his parched lips.

Immediately he felt her moisture coat his lips, and then he tasted her as her excitement seeped between them. That silky taste and texture that he had longed for was once again on his pallet. The sound that came from her lips was muted, but still audible. It was a mixture of moaning and sighing as his tongue slowly moved about the surface of the silky flesh at his lips and tongue. With increasing intensity his tongue found its way to the Netherlands of her core. The smooth folds of tender swollen flesh enveloped his tongue as it explored deeper and deeper.

His face became sodden with her excitement as she arched her back with strength and suddenness. Then her moan grew in intensity until his ears were almost filled with alarm at her open excitement, expression, and completeness. She lowered herself purposely and became heated as she shook from the experience.

He slid from under her and positioned himself at her back, rubbing her soft shoulders with his strong hands, calming her somewhat. Massaging her buttocks and lower back, as he spoke softly to her in his deep voice. Little things like promises, and complements. Then with the same calm, he gently pushed her shoulders to the floor. Her head was rested in the soft pile of clothing. Clothing that bore his scent. He admired her raised buttocks and soothed them with his open palm. His hands moved more rapidly until she felt the friction build heat on her. Secretly she almost wanted him to spank her as she had joked about so many times before. He bent down and softly traced his tongue along each unruffled cheek. Then he traced a damp trail down the crease, causing her to shudder a bit.

How easy it was to enjoy this lover, to savor her being. Out of devilishness or lust - he knew not what - his tongue violated her privacy and she moved back involuntarily. Her action bespoke that of a sated desire as she moaned once again. But he was too aroused to hesitate in claiming his satisfaction. Holding her posterior still with one hand, her took himself with the other and began to rub the bulbous tip of his desire against her pouty wetness. Her moans grew in intensity as he continued to rub the entire surface of her flower bud with increased pressure and tempo. The electrical current that coursed through her body each time he rubbed her special projection soon had her at a state of uncontrolled arousal. He then positioned the thickness at her engorged labia, slippery with her excitement, then slowly begun to push. The suddenness of entry caused them both to gasp. The enclosure of her folds around the abundant ridge of his manhood seemed divine. She too could appreciate the feeling.

He waited for her to let go a bit before starting his journey into her taut depths. The thickness of his member was so gratifying for the both of them, and the tightness that resulted was unbelievable. Her elevated buttocks were so well positioned for deep penetration and soon he felt her end. The pressure against him was evident, and such a temptation it was ... One that he would eventually succumb to. His thrusts were at first slow and with slow deliberateness. Eventually they would be replaced with the slow pounding piston like motion that comes with impending climax.

Faster and faster he moved, and to her equal movement of response. The sound of her free flowing wetness could now be heard as he dove deeper and deeper into her, almost lifting her as he pushed in. He felt his time grow close and he slowed his movements. She was quaking with orgasm as he did so and she cried out in protest as he withdrew. Turning her over and laying her on her back, he entered her once again as her legs clasped around his waist. Still in the throws of orgasm, she accepted him eagerly. Lips meeting, tongues entangled, and breathing so loud and raspy. Then he felt it happen. It was the swelling of his passion almost painful as he reached his zenith. The surge of heat that coursed through him entered her like bolts of lightning. She opened her eyes for a moment as she realized her station. Stream after stream of his heat shot forth, covering her smooth insides. The loud groan that came from his lips was heard outside the cabin, as were her screams of delight as they gave in to their lust.

They kissed softly as they lay there in each others arms. His member now softer, yet still thick and present, slowly kept its slow rhythm as they kissed. The tickling sensation of their fluids trickling slowly added to the cloud they were floating on at that moment. They lay there in each other's arms, wet in their aqueous calenture. Soft kisses were plenty as he slipped from her, allowing the blanket to absorb the remaining results of their passion. The day was young and so were their hearts and desires.

STORY: IS SEX WITH YOU ABOUT DOING OR THINKING OR BOTH?

There we are... satiated with sex... just lying content and enjoying each others nearness. 

I feel the softness of your breasts against me and the smoothness of your legs crossing mine. I feel the moistness and warmth of your sex as you rest your pussy against my thigh. I feel your hair drifting across my face and your soft and sweet breath on my neck and shoulder. 

I feel wonderment at the moments we had... the growing excitement as we kissed and caressed. The feeling of a deep shared intimacy as we explored those secret places of the other. The taste of you as we kissed from mouth to toes and all between. The way you offered me your breasts and the sensational feel of those hardening nipples and then the taste of you and your skin. 

I relive the moment when my hand wandered between your thighs, sensing you turning them slightly outwards guiding my hand to your sweet valley. Then the exquisite feeling of your warmth and wetness as my hand explored your most intimate parts... your nether lips... your small yet vital pleasure point which seems to attract my fingers like a magnet... the entrance to the depths of your sex, welcoming my exploring fingers. 

I recall the way you murmured encouragement... how you moved your face to mine and your lips parted allowing our tongues to meet. I remember your muffled words... "yes... YES" and your deep sighs of contentment. 

Now I am thinking of how your hand has circled my hardening shaft... how you gently stroked me to full erection... how you shifted position to be able to encircle it with your mouth and how that made your valley accessible to my kiss and exploration with my tongue. How we both were urgently making ourselves open to the extremes of intimacy. 

Now I am thinking of how we mutually came to the thought that all needed conclusion. How you arranged us so that my shaft could enter you... how you pressed me close with your legs locked around me... how your sex welcomed mine and enclosed it in that wonderful warmth and wetness... how we moved together so that there was sufficient motion to bring us both to the verge of climax... how those endearing words of encouragement and love passed between us in a growing crescendo. 

Now I recall the finale of our actions. How you clenched and cried out and I felt my life stream flowing into you... how the world seemed to stand still except for you and me. 

And now... There we are... satiated with sex... just lying content and enjoying each others nearness and drifting to sleep. 

Now I wake. It's early morning and I wake with a contented feeling. You are curled up with your back to me and your knees drawn up. I am hugging you from behind and I have one hand across your breast, holding gently and feeling the firm softness and the tingle I get from touching your nipple. 

This is SO intimate that I feel my staff growing and getting hard. It slips between your cheeks and lies there, awaiting your response, right at the entrance to the centre of your sex. 

You move sleepily and open slightly, so that my other hand now slips between your legs and caresses you gently across your mound and valley. I feel you stir and the sudden wetness emanating from your sex, encouraging my fingers to your clit. 

As I gently brush my hand across your breast and with my other hand caress and circle your enlarging bud, you push yourself back against me and my member slips inside your entrance. 

I lie quite still, enjoying the wonder of you and the warmth that encompasses me. Eventually I start to move inside you and feel you responding in your sleep, pushing yourself back against my pressure. 

But are you asleep? Perhaps not - for you start to move with me and lean forward a little to take me further in. I am blissful now and feel you respond even more. 

Now our movement takes on a more urgent note. I hear you moan softly and clench your vaginal muscles around my staff. I feel totally possessed by you and the sense of oneness that exceeds all imagination. Now I feel my climax approaching and yours too, as me moved in the ritual dance of ultimate love. Suddenly, we both shudder as the orgasms begin and the thrust of ecstasy envelopes us both. 

We enjoy a shared excitement, close together like two peas in a pod. You relax and then turn to me. 

"Good morning, darling," I say with a smile. "Did I wake you?"

You smile back and murmur, "Yes, but I'm glad you did."

I must go to work, so I dress and leave, but not before I kiss you again, grateful to you for such wonderful love that brings these fulfilling moments. 

STORY: GOING DOWN ON YOU

I love to lay between your legs and use my *whole* mouth on your *whole* vagina as you lay on your back and just enjoy. After your first cum, I will let you rest, but I'll keep my mouth on you. You'll feel the softness of the underside of my tongue, just resting on your lips and your clitoris - not moving, just resting. Your juices will be flowing and mixing with my saliva and there will be warm wetness covering my cheeks and my face and your thighs and your groin - there will be wetness everywhere. Then you'll slowly relax, and then I'll slowly move my tongue again and you'll stir again and you'll grab the back of my head and press your hips lightly - hesitatingly - into my face. And then I'll open my mouth a little wider and slowly draw my tongue up over your lips, from bottom to top.

When I lick up with my tongue you feel the roughness of the top of my tongue on your labia, and licking down you feel the softness of the underside of my tongue. I softly gather your labia into my mouth and carefully swirl them around with my tongue. I suck on your labia just slightly, and carefully roll them between my front teeth.

As my tongue slowly swirls it brushes your clitoris, and you quickly pull up on my head, and you arch your back, and push your hips down, to try to keep your clit under my tongue. But it doesn't work because I keep my tongue slowly circling. You feel my tongue along the side of your vagina moving toward your taint and you wonder if I'll put my tongue there. And to your surprise you feel the side of my tongue lightly glide over your taint and back up the other side of your vagina. And you feel invigorated, but slightly disappointed because you wanted me to stay there longer. And then to your surprise my tongue stops and goes back the other way. And then my tongue moves as a pendulum over your taint, back and forth, soft and hard. I flatten my tongue and press it like the palm of my hand against your taint and you feel the squishy roughness of the full surface of my tongue on your taint. And then your start to push down on the top of my head, and instead of arching your back, you're curling your back - like you're trying to do a sit-up - because now you're trying to keep my tongue where it is. But it doesn't work! Because now I move my tongue back up the other side of your vagina and once again over your clit. And then the cycle happens all over again. And you're pulling and pushing on my head as you arch and curl your back, as my tongue circles around between your clitoris and your taint.

And I don't use my neck muscles much at all - I just keep my head steady. I let you control how hard my mouth is pressing against you.

And after about three or four circles, the underside of my tongue leaves your clitoris - but this time I draw it down between your labia and I brush down lightly over the opening to your vagina to see if you're ready for my tongue to enter you. And you'll feel the warmth and softness of my tongue and you'll want my tongue in you, but you'll feel a little conflicted because you'll also want me to continue to circle around to your clitoris and your taint. But I keep my tongue there, rocking it back and forth between the inside of your labia, brushing over the opening to your vagina, tasting the tart, sweet, steely flavor of your juices. And then gradually you relax your legs, and your knees and your thighs slowly fall away from my head and you feel my hands on your butt holding up your hips, and you let go of my head and drop your arms to the bed to help you push up with your hips. And as your legs fall apart, my tongue feels the opening to your vagina relax, and I press the soft, wide underside of my tongue against the soft, tender opening of the inside of your vagina. And I slowly and softly press, pushing tenderly, with the underside of my tongue leading the way. And I gather my tongue into a cylinder and you feel that, and you reach up with one hand and pull on the back of my head, and I open my mouth as wide as possible and push the hardened and squishy cylinder of my tongue deeper into your vagina.

And with my mouth wide open and my tongue inside you, you'll feel my upper teeth touching your clitoris and my bottom teeth touching your taint. And as I push my tongue in and out of your vagina - first slowly, then quickly, then slow, then quick - I close and open my mouth just a little and you feel my teeth pressing harder on your clitoris and your taint as your one hand pulls harder and harder on my head. And now I don't push at all with my head - I just let you control how hard my mouth and my tongue and my lips and my teeth are pressing against, and into, your vagina. And as you climax, your hips move wildly back and forth and up and down, and your hands don't know what to do as they go from grabbing my head to grasping at the sheets. And I know this time is so important - I musn't let your vagina slip from my mouth. So I wrap my arms around your hips and pull your hips up into my face, and hold you just tightly enough so that my mouth doesn't leave you - so that my mouth stays pressed firmly against your vagina and my tongue is fully extended into your vagina, and curling up to press your g-spot, and pushing down against the base of your vagina, while your hips swish back and forth

And now you begin to cum. Your juices are gushing. I feel them like a flood against my tongue and my lips and the inside of my mouth - some I swallow, and some I just let flow so as to lubricate the movement of my face between your thighs. I'm only breathing through my nose and I notice your soaked pubic hair has engulfed my nose. I'm breathing so heavily that your pubic hair draws up into my nose as I breathe in. You jerk and shutter and twist your hips. You moan wildly, but for me the sound is muffled because my ears are suctioned between your thighs - your legs are crossed behind my head and you've got my head in a death squeeze!

And then I feel you weakening just a little... just a little... and then with a snap you become totally relaxed - your thighs and stomach and butt go from the hardness of steel to the softness of puddy - like warm bread dough. And I immediately sense that, and I know that you're done. I know that if I continue you'll just as quickly become hyper sensitive. So I stop - softly - but quickly. But I do NOT pull away from you! I still have my arms wrapped around your hips. I keep my face pressed fully, and softly, into your groin, and my mouth open wide - but my teeth are nowhere to be felt. You only feel my lips - wet and slippery - at the top and bottom of your vagina, and my tongue is no longer inside your vagina, but is resting softly and quietly - the soft underside of my tongue laying perfectly still on your swolen, tender, pulsating vagina. My tongue can feel your heartbeat pulsating in your labia. And maybe, through your labia, you feel my heartbeat pulsating in my tongue.

And then I will let you rest, but I keep my mouth on you. And just as before, you'll feel the softness of the underside of my tongue, just resting on your lips and your clitoris - not moving, just resting. And once your breathing and your heartbeat slows... once you're relaxed... then slowly, carefully, quietly... I'll move my tongue again...

STORY: HER SEXUAL AWAKENING

No, this couldn’t be happening, she thought. This was not something she would ever dream of doing, no, she was a “good girl”. She had never even had a one-night stand, how could she now want to do this? She couldn’t help but relive that day.

It was a warm late winter day, the kind that makes you know you’ve made it through the winter and that spring was on the verge of blossoming. I had had flights of fancy before, but something was brewing inside that was totally new. I had taken to calling it “My Awakening” in a sensual and sexual way. For so many years, I had repressed this part of my life, for various reasons. But those reasons no longer held the power they once had and this awakening was real to me. It wasn’t just a slight feeling either; it was looming large over my every thought. Rather incredible but oh so nice.

I had heard that women reach their sexual peak in their late thirties and early forties, well that was what this must be I figured. The strength of these emotions was compelling beyond my wildest imagination. In fact I’d never really had much imagination or experience when it came to sex. Well, no longer could I say that, for I had become more than imaginative and the astonishing thing was that I wanted to act upon my thoughts. Perhaps this was my “mid life crisis”, but it surely didn’t feel like a crisis, in fact the only crisis was fulfilling my desires.

Driving down the highway on that lovely day, with the sunroof open and my honey blonde hair blowing and swirling about, enjoying the jazz music playing loud and smooth, I was feeling very much like a woman. I had worn a slightly sexy lavender dress that day, my makeup was just right. It was just one of those everything is great days! I had worn my hair pulled into a clip but as I drove I just pulled it out and let it flow around me, thick and soft. The new lace bra and panty set, which was also a lavender color, along with the stockings made me feel so sensual. I had splurged the other day and was enjoying all my new purchases! Wow, had my life changed so much, I had changed and life was fantastically exciting to me.

I hadn’t noticed the man driving the pickup truck I passed, I was lost in my thoughts of physical delight, and wanted to get home to relieve this pleasant stress, even if it meant being alone again. Perhaps a friend would be available for a phone call I thought, and knew just who I was wishing would answer his cell. Driving faster now, I hadn’t noticed that the truck came up upon me quickly in my rear view mirror.

I thought, well he is in more of a hurry than me, giggling to myself and wondering if he too needed that sweet release. I pulled over to the right lane to allow him to pass not giving much more thought to him, my thoughts were certainly occupied elsewhere. But he didn’t pass me; he pulled along side and traveled with me at the same swift speed. Normally I would not look over, but the new me didn’t have that fear. When I glanced over I saw he was smiling at me with the most beautiful smile on a face that made me feel a catch in my breath. My return smile was automatic, there was no thinking about it, one couldn’t help but return that smile. I felt myself blush and yes, even giggle. This was the stuff of twenty year olds, this does not happen at this stage of life! But it was, I was certain, and a grin came over my face.

We traveled this way for a few miles, glancing at each other, smiling, flirting without words at 70 miles per hour no less. He pulled in front of my car and began to slow. I slowed as well, just to see what this was about, I wasn’t fearful so much as intrigued. His directional signaled that he was pulling into the rest area just ahead. I saw him motion to me to follow. Well, this is where the rubber was about to meet the road, I thought. Would I pull into a rest stop because a handsome man smiled at me? No, how foolish and dangerous! Every thought in my head said no! But my body was hearing none of that; there was something inside me that had more power than my head. My directional went on and my eyes widened in shock. I was actually following him!

In my wildest fantasy I would never do this, why now? It’s my awaking, working its magic and taking over me. As I slowed in the rest area, he stepped out of his truck, and leaned against the driver’s door. I pulled along side and slid the window down, a bit more than half way, I may be acting on physical lust, but I wasn’t all together stupid. He smiled and greeted me with a nice hello. I return his greeting in the same manner. The quiet was awkward but not long.

“I noticed how happy you looked as you passed me” he said, with a grin.

“Oh” was my reply with a soft giggle, “yes I am quite happy today”.

It was as if he knew just what was making me so happy these days. His grin grew and his eyes smiled. I was found out, I knew it, and now the blush taking over my face was the final give away.

“Would you like to have a cup of coffee or something? You could tell me your secret to happiness” he was asking rather suggestively. And this is where the new me emerged.

“Umm, ah, well sure. Why not? You’re not an ax murderer are you? I asked him with a nervous but playful laugh.

He chuckled and shook his head no; even opening his truck door to show me there was no ax. I laughed back at him and smiled.

“Follow me, there is a place right off the next exit”, he was in charge. I followed him with some thought of wonder and amazement. But I followed him just the same.

STORY: THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS

As the bustle of Christmas shopping, parties and sending off cards with our annual catch up letter to all our family and friends builds, our energy level starts to lag. We need a break from it all before we embark on that last great shopping expedition to lay in all our supplies so we can rest for the holidays and truly enjoy our little family and the love we share.

Returning from the mall with our arms laden and our noses rosy red from the dropping temperatures, we work quickly together to put away all the last minute gifts - we'll wrap them tomorrow - and after feeding the baby and putting her down since it is already getting to be past her regular bedtime, we decide on a light snack for dinner. We are too tired to cook and the restaurants were just to busy when you have a little one and arms full of shopping! Together,  we warm up some leftover stew we slow cooked yesterday, heat some French crispy bread in the microwave and grab a hot chocolate. I set the fire in the fireplace and we snuggle under the blanket and clean our plates with the still warm bread and sip out hot drinks.

As the room warms, your head falls to my shoulder and you doze breathing softly against my neck. I rest my head on yours, smelling the sweetness of your hair, and drift off into a dreamless sleep. We both wake at the same time as the room has begun to chill since the fire is dying on the grate. I lift you into my arms and carry you to our bedroom where I quickly disrobe you and slide you under the warmth of our down comforter.

Doffing my own clothes, I slip in beside you. Now fully awake, we move into each others loving arms and, lying side by side with our bodies pressed together, we begin the process of lovemaking that has become our nature. Long lingering soft kisses always; slowly following with deeper penetration of tongues and then pulling back to simple brushes of lips against lips. I blow softly against your lips and you inhale my warm breath; the process repeats itself back and forth for at least an hour as our lips keep finding the other's for fleeting kisses and caresses!

The warmth of our bodies as they meld together is almost overwhelming! You lift your leg and I insert mine between yours so your pussy is resting against my thigh. You slowly move your hips dragging as you do your already moistening folds along my legs. Pressing harder, those delicious labia open wider and you leave a trail of your wetness along my leg! I can feel the rising heat as it emanates from your liquid fire you are now pouring out and the smell of raw sex permeates my nostrils!

My hand cups your ass and I pull you faster and harder against me as I feel my fully erect cock brushing between the rounded globes of your heart shaped ass. With the precum pouring down the length of my shaft, it is sliding easily and slickly along your slit and almost touching your anal ring on each stroke.

You are now moving faster yet and you moan out as your first orgasm hits; I have yet to touch you - it is only the friction of your clit and pussy rubbing along my leg that has driven you over the edge. With a cry to let you move, you quickly force me to raise my hips so your legs can encircle my waist. You reach behind you and grasp my slick cock head and position it against your sphincter which is by now covered with my precum!

Whispering "I want to feel you fill my ass, darling!" you bear down and using the leverage of your legs around me, pull yourself downwards until my cock tip slips inside you. You gasp; it is an intrusion but not a bad one - you need a  moment to adjust. Then, you slowly pull yourself down the length of my cock until I am fully buried within you.

Oh, my darling! The velvety warmth of your smooth anal walls as they grip me tightly is o amazing. We have made love this way many times and each is as if it were the first! The muscles are so powerful as you start a milking movement and I slowly slide small increments to meet your own trusts downward. Soon we have a rhythm going and I feel myself growing inside you as I sense the end is near!

"I am going to cum any minute, baby!" I warm you. I reach between us and attack your clit as it rubs against my pubes.

This only serves to increase your squeezing of my shaft until I can stand it no longer and release a torrent of thick hot cum deep inside you until it froths along my shaft and bubbles out onto the sheets.

We return to our kissing and holding each other tight while my cock slowly softens and falls free of you. Snuggled hard into each other's arms, we pull the comforter around our necks and fall fast asleep.

Only one days until Christmas, my sweet love!

FAN: A FAN ANALYZING HER LIFE....

Dr. A, I have been reading your blog for a few weeks...I want to share some of thoughts if you don't mind.
Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night feeling something was missing? Or maybe found yourself walking around wondering why you feel like you forgot something? What about thinking you are all alone, even if you're in a room full of people, because you know that in some other place there is someone who should be with you to make it all better? Oh, the feeling of love.

What is it about this special emotion that can either build you up or destroy you as fast as a bug zapper can get rid of a mosquito? Lately I've been analyzing my life and the 21 years I have been single. My analysis was sparked by a wedding announcement from my cousin who is only three years older than me, two six-month anniversary celebrations by my best friends and a very bad attempt at a pick-up because a guy confused me with some other girl he thought he was meeting for dinner. What was I to do?

First off, I needed to accept the number of guys I can't be with.

George Clooney is an untamed bachelor. I am not moving to Colombia or Mexico to rekindle past passions, and the two guys I would like to be with here are in relationships. Acceptance achieved, I had to find a new prospect.

Since my "little black book" is more like the back of a crumpled receipt, I decided to check out people around me who I only think of as friends. This was hard to do because when it comes to dating, I generally end up going out with guys who have no connection to my work, my school or my neighborhood.

I figured this is because I was like that guy who wants to hit on everyone but doesn't want any commitment.

Since I have no time for a real relationship, it's convenient to meet someone, get a vibe, and then mentally review my schedule to see if he could be Mr. Tuesday.

But no more.

I have had this feeling of longing for someone I could actually get to know and grow to love for way too long now, and I deserve to at least get my heart broken once. I got in touch with a guy I had a crush on.

He is a leader, a good son, a Catholic, and a rocker; a good first date that would ensure there was no lack of conversation. When I met up with him, though, I was so nervous. I knew the guy was nice and he knew who I was, but for some reason I had to fix my hair and check myself in the mirror three times before entering the restaurant to greet him.

Dinner was good and dessert was even better, but I was fidgeting like crazy and so was he.

Why was I doing this? Was I really feeling the pressure of trying to make someone else happy that badly? The conversation was never dull but I was starting to feel like I was too nice, too flirty, too everything.

As we left the restaurant and he walked me to my car, I could not be happier the date was almost over. And then he kissed me.

Suddenly the pressure, the awkwardness and the insecurity all disappeared and I was happy. This wasn't a quick rendezvous or fling; this was a chance for something real. I said goodbye and explained that I was leaving for London and would not be able to try anything, if there was an opportunity, until I got back. He understood and set off home.

But even if I didn't get a boyfriend that night, I felt assured that my sleepless nights, my meaningless walks and my feelings of loneliness in crowded rooms were over; I had a chance to meet and keep the guy who will put me on edge, make me try to impress him every day, maybe break my heart and make me feel like I belong.

Who knows if he'll be a Brit or a fellow Husky, but for now flings are out, and I'm giving falling in love a chance.

FAN: QUESTION FROM A READER: WHY DO MEN END UP WITH UGLY WIVES?

I am a SBF. I am mostly attracted to white men and I consider myself attractive. When I am out and about I see great looking white guys who look miserable with such ugly fat white women. They will have two or three kids sucking on an ice cream cone. Why is this? Is it that these women were once pretty and then pork out along the way or are they that way when you met them and you fall in love with them anyway? Why would a guy marry such a homely woman when there are so many pretty girls out there with no one to come home to? These same guys will give me inviting looks but I just shake my head thinking that they should've come to me when they were looking for a girlfriend intead of shopping at the zoo. I was on the subway and saw this gorgeous guy with this HUGE ugly fat girlfriend. He was sticking his tongue down her throat for a saliva sample. It was 3pm in the afternoon so he wasn't drunk or anything. She had cankles and looked disgusting in a mini skirt. What would make a guy want a girl that looks like this? Or a white guy will be with a black girl that looks like Buckwheat by the head. Then he will see me and sneak a peak while she isn't looking. Do guys just want to date ugly ass women now? Why is it that I know more pretty women without husbands or boyfriends than fat or ugly women? Is it that they are more nurturing than pretty women? I also see men with pretty women treating them like shit or cheating on them with ugly women. Sorry to sound harsh but what's up with this? Look at George and Barbara Bush. I am not a Republican but with his status and money why did he end up with someone like her or FDR and Eleanor? Do ugly women makes better wives?

Why these guys choose ugly women over pretty ones?


ANSWER:
First I want to say that no one is ugly. We are all beautiful.

1. These women was once cute but either let themselves go once secure in the knowledge that they got a man to marry them and no longer have to try so hard to attract men or they never were able to bounce back after having kids.

2. After a while men give up on marrying the thin, gorgeous dream woman because they are often unattainable unless you look like Brad Pitt and/or have his bank account. So they realize happiness can be found in a less attractive women who loves them for them. Don't believe me? Take a poll of gorgeous women you see in the street. Ask them what their dream man is like, they'll say Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Colin Farrell, etc. Mr. Big on Sex in the City is a popular choice too. Of course 99% of the population cannot meet such a standard. So that's why you see so many of these thin, gorgeous women alone. No one is good enough. They are holding out for that perfect dream man who apparently unbeknownst to them do not exist in enough numbers to meet demand. The few that do land such a man can't keep him, because he can and will always trade up to the next best thing. Think I'm wrong? Ask Jennifer Anniston. She found her perfect man, and if SHE couldn't keep him, no woman can. So she's now one of those gorgeous manless women you speak of too. So keep holding out for your gorgeous, white prince. We'll see if it works out better for you than Jen.

3. A average woman when she is with a attractive guy won't cheat on him. It is the best she ever gets and guys love a woman is loyal.

4. Ugly woman might give better head....and most beautiful woman do suck in oral.

FAN: QUESTIONS FROM MY READER

I'm in a bit of a confused state right now - I am a female with severe commitment phobia. It's hard, because I'm fairly attractive and normal, so I end up hurting a lot of men. Since I'm what I consider a nice person, this really bothers me. Over the past two years, I've rejected about half a dozen perfectly normal guys that I found some reason or another not to be with (the most recent being this morning...what prompted me to finally look for advice). At first, I thought I was just picky, but now I know it has to be more. Especially because of something I've realized over the last year. I have the habit of falling in love with one of my best friends..it's happened twice. I don't have the desire to date them, in fact get scared if it even looks like it will head that way, but am relatively miserable at the same time when the feelings aren't returned. All of my close friends tell me that I fall for the ones that I know won't be interested, in order to avoid having to commit to anything.

I'm not scared of the physical aspects of a relationship and most of the time really like the guys that are asking me out. I even tend to be a flirt, attracting this male attention. And to top it off, I really do want a solid relationship. So am I just afraid of this or am I a masochistic, emotionally challenged freak?!?Any advice, please??


QUESTION #2:
I am a 21 year old female who just realized she had a severe case of commitment phobia. I don't know what's wrong with me but whenever I start to think about being in a relationship (even a casual one) it freaks me out. I can get myself so worked up and freaked out that my stomach ends up in knots and I feel like I need to throw up. It gets to the point where I get so nervous that I don't even want to hang out with guy anymore.

I don't know where or when this developed for me. No couple in my family has ever been divorced and all of my relatives are happily married. I had a Walt Disney life. In high school I would have done anything to be in a relationship but I guess that now I've been single for so long I just cannot commit. I've met several great guys who have told me they would like to date me and I've tried to make it work. I usually enter into the relationship half-heartedly and end up finding a reason to leave. It kills me to have to hurt these guys and I end up feeling terrible but I just can't handle the idea of a commitment... What is even crazier is that I do want to get married and have a family one day.


But yeah, I hope that helped someone out... Thanks for letting me share!


QUESTION #3:

my fault that the people I have dated have all been either too emotionally dependant or not emotionally dependant enough or too wrapped up in their own life or too wrapped up in mine or too eager to please or too interested in money or not ambitious enough or drink too much or didn't drink at all (yes that is correct, I didn't like someone because they were tee-total!!) or they went out too often or they didn't go out often enough or they were too tall or their head was too big and didn't look right on their shoulders (weird I know, but seriously this guy had a really big head, unusually big in my opinion) or they talked too much or they didn't talk enough or they were too tactile.............basically the list is endless, and believe me I have used every single one of these reasons, and more, to split up with guys I have dated over the past ten years.

What gets me though is that I am completely serious about these. To me they aren't excuses, they are facts. I am not secretly fearing something and so using these as an excuse. I really do mean it. These guys are all lovely and great but soon start to irritate me with these little things. So much so, that the attraction for them goes, and all i can see is these annoying little habbits. I always thought that this just meant that I wasn't suited to these guys and so I never worried, as there must be guys out there that won't annoy me, I just haven't met any yet.

I am now petrified that once i read your blog I saw that I am afraid of commitment. It was like reading a page of my life. What i really don't understand is why i would have a fear of commitment. I had a happy childhood as far as I'm concerned, I haven't had any major upsets in my life. I have a healthy social circle and a good enough job that pays the bills and gives me spending money. I am basically pretty happy, I have just never found love with an appropriate guy. I have been in love though. I was so desperately in love with one guy, but he didn't want to have relationship with me though as he was already with someone else - another classic symptom of commitment phobia - liking guys that are unattainable (this happens to me quite regularly). Does this then mean that I am destined to spend my life only ever wanting men i cannot have and not wanting the ones in front of me? This would lead to a pretty unhappy and unfulfilled life - surely?

So what if I am commitmentphobic? What then? There doesn't seem to be a cure for it. It doesn't even have a real name like agoraphobia or xenophobia. Is it even a recognised condition by your bog-standard therapists that live down the street, that have been in the profession for years?

I'm not saying I don't think it exists and we are making it up, as I think it is something quite serious and I don't speak for everyone, but I am certainly extremely concerned. I don't want to end up a lonely old spinster woman but I cannot seem to change my habits. I cannot force myself to continue to like people, even though I can now recognise that it was me pushing them away. My head says this to me. But my heart loses its attraction and once that is gone, what else is there? Should I stay with someone in the hope that it will come back after it's gone. I can't see me doing this. I basically cannot see a way out of this. It's too hard. I'm commitmentphobic, I know this, I know that it is because of this that I do not find a man attractive for any period longer than a few weeks. Knowing this doesn't change the cycle, it still continues. I still continue to lose the attraction. I still continue to finish the relationship after a few weeks because they are now annoying me, even though i know it is my fault and not theirs, but what can you do about it. Nothing - surely, if you don't like someone, you don't like them - and there isn't anything that they or I can do about it - it's just fact. Maybe I should just remain single for a while in the hope that it passes.

I think I'm just going to cling on to the theory that I am not commitmentphobic, I just haven't met someone I like enough to be with for more than a couple of months - at least this gives me hope. Being commitmentphobic leaves me with no hope at all as there is apparently not much that can be done except to grin and bear it - great!!(note the sarcasm)


QUESTION #4
I have had numerous relationships in my life the two most recent ones lasted for 5 and 4 years. I suffered Anxiety in both of these relationships when "pressure" was put on me for something more. I do have to say that i lived with both of these women, did a lot with them but never felt that desire to get married. I was always looking for that "greener Pasture" Both of them decided to move out because they wanted to marry me. i pretty much let them go and remained friends with them afterwards. One took a long time to get to that point of friendship but we did..

Now to the relationship that stirred up CONSTANT anxiety and doubts and all of the i "wonders". the, is she right, is she too young, is she too bubbly i mean all those things that commment phobic do to rationalize getting out. I pushed and pulled and pulled and pushed her into my life and back out again and she finally said "enough" that she could not do the back and forth thing anymore and she needed to move on and live her life.

Well i have been devastated ever since. I know i loved her more then anyone i have ever seen and i wanted to be with her soooo bad and it scared me to the point of having panic and anxiety attacks because i wanted to commit but couldn't. The biggest difference with her is she wanted me to "date" her. commit to what all of us consider regular dating. going out, going to each others houses making plans all of that. and with my previous relationships we went at my speed, did things when i wanted to do them and the next thing you know we were living together. and then i would go and find someone more fun or interesting at work and cheat on them and lose interest.

But with the new gal i never wanted to cheat, i never wanted anything to do with other women. i was sexually fulfilled and so attracted to her "when my mind was not anxious" of course i never considered being with anyone else. But to the problem. when SHE wanted time and when SHE wanted sex etc.. i got anxious, I got scared because she wanted that "commitment" from me and i was not able to give it unless it was on my terms or my idea.

How does it get fixed??? Where are the success stories?? I want/need to know it can work and be better. I want that relationship that develops into a marriage and kids and growing old together. i know i have issues from my parents getting divorced and the one time i got engaged and she changed her mind. but does it get better. can i heal or whatever and become a person that can have a relationship that works?

Her and I talked at a few points and she realized i am scared of commitment. I want to send her links and stories to show her what commitment phobic is and to show her why i was the way i was and hope she wants me back and will give us and me another chance but the minute i think about that and the fact it means i will be committing to her and to make it work i get anxious. Ain't that a bitch!!

I know i need to get over this relationship and hope that in time and with counseling i can get better and the next relationship works out and i find that person. but it does not take away from the sadness and the feelings of loss for her and how i blew it because i was too scared and screwed up.



MY ANSWER:

Most of you are like the dog who chases the car but has no earthly idea what to do with it once he catches up to it.

Commitment phobia has many causes. Often, people who fear close relationships sustained a childhood trauma associated with abandonment, such as the death of a parent or the divorce of parents after which one left home. The child surmises that if he or she loves somebody, that person will leave. That child stays with us all of our lives and speaks to us even in adulthood, having us fear that if we fall in love and devote ourselves to someone they will eventually disappear from our lives.

Others fear having their entire being totally engulfed by another person, losing their identity in the beloved. Loss of freedom and options is another reason. Many subscribe to the "better deal theory," thinking no matter who they are with there is a better deal out there. And yes, they are absolutely correct. No matter who you fall in love with, there IS someone better out there somewhere. You can better deal yourself right to the grave moving from one person to the other. Rational people eventually pick someone to love, commit to them, and discontinue further search.

You do things with friends because initially they are comfortable to you because you really don't think you will fall for them in a romantic way. Being around a buddy is safe. But you cannot control your longing for love. It happens...and the fear goes up your spine. You will always yearn for the unattainable...or the safe person...as long as you have this problem.

Most people say "I'm really scared to be in a relationship. Every time I see my partner in pain or needing something, I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I'm in a prison, that I'm being smothered - and I just have to get out of the relationship as fast as possible." This response is common among those who experience love as denial of one's own needs in order to attend to the needs of the beloved. In the early days of a relationship, partners typically relate joyfully and compassionately to each other out of a sense of freedom. Eventually however, as the relationship becomes "serious," partners may begin to assume responsibility for each other's feelings.

It is amazing the stress you can put on your mind when someone loves you. it can almost make you feel guilty if you cant live up to what your partner is feeling towards you. it is like this. and i will use myself as and example. i knew she loved me and i was the love of her life. we connected sexually and emotionally but i felt like i could never live up to this image she had of me. her love was too much to handle. it put so much pressure on me to feel all these things back. and maybe just maybe what i was able to give is all i am capable of.

The very desire to be 'all I've ever wanted to be is perfect. And loved. Preferably by as many people as possible. ' is kind of egocentric/narcissistic - if you expect perfection in yourself it kinda follows that you'll look for it in partners aswell - and a relationship HAS to be founded on commitment, acceptance of faults, and forgiveness. I suspect you have egocentric tendencies as if you were fully narcissistic then self-examination would be nigh-on impossible, but it's an avenue to explore, and would likely lead to commitmentphobia.

You could seek counselling but therapists are rarely able turn this syndrome around, even if they get to the core issues that got a person there. Perhaps long term therapy could help but it would be hard work and tedious and you would have to secure a very competent psychotherapist to help you.

FAN--HIS POINT OF VIEW ABOUT WOMAN

I understand women. Why they fall for the guys who mistreat them, abandon them, use them, etc? Why do women keep taking guys back that beat up on them, cheat on them, etc.? I see this a lot with women from different religions and races and ages.

During my life in Los Angeles for 2 ½ years, I had made friends with a girl that is a single mom. She's a year older me and I won't reveal to anyone her race. Her baby daddy is a meth. addict that has four kids with another girl that he was with before she met him. Anyways, after being friends with her for a year, she allowed him to come back into their lives because he was trying to sober up, again! He was around for a couple of months and then one day he took off.

A couple of weeks later, one of her friends saw him on the streets of Skid Row drinking, laughing, and having a good time. Then guess what, she came running to me for comfort. And man did I make one of the biggest mistakes of my life! I comforted her and spent time with her and ended up becoming a father figure to her son and he came to love me to death.

Well anyways, we was hanging out a lot and she talked my ears off about things like she was trying to make herself all wise, but it turns out that she's full of crap. I think that I got used more than any thing else by her. To make this long story short, no matter what I did for her and her kid I still wasn't good enough for her.

I was the only guy who cared about the person inside of her and looked past her mistakes in life and during our 2 ½ years of friendship and me wanting to be with her, I tried not once to have sex with her. Her boy came to love me like a father and every time he saw me he would get excited and jump up about it. She told me about all of the other guys that she was with and I was the only one who cared about her and not just for the sex like the others in her life.

Then guess what? The piece of garbage came back. After being gone for over a year and doing only what God knows and with only God knows who. He came back to her and told her his famous, along with other piece of crap guys, lines by saying “Girl, I'm sorry. I love you and think the world of you. I made a mistake and hope that you can forgive me. I want to do better and be in your life and our kid's life. I love you.”

However, if you read in between the lines you would realize what he was actually saying to her “Bitch, you are the dumbest girl that I have ever met. You aren't worth anything and you're not special. Take me back and put a roof over my head and help me out with whatever I need and during all of this let me get on top of you.” Overall, despite all that I had done for her and her kid, a meth addict was more man and more worth having than me.

Why do women do that? Its just proof that women don't know what a good man is and when they come to meet one, they don't know how to handle him.

Let's look at other scenarios. Girls that get involved with the 50 Cent wannabe that doesn't want to work and earn money the right way. Guys that get involved with drugs whether it be doing them or sale them. Guys who call hustling a career and getting shot at over something stupid and going to prison for half a life a real man. What more do women want in a guy? A good man should put his woman first and their kids (if they have any) and treat her with respect and if it comes down to it he should be willing to loose his life for hers. A girl told me that women do this because they have a fear of being alone, its not a fear its because they're not hitting on anything themselves.

Then you got the other morans who wont date a guy unless he has a car and Lex Lugar figure. But that's another thing and I don't feel like getting into that. But you know what really grinds my gears? Is Christian women! They're just as bad as sinner women. I tell you that all because a girl claims to be saved that doesn't mean that she still isn't stupid.

A woman who claims to be saved should know what a real man is and not be listening to the world. But yet they still base their relationships on what Alicia Keys, Mariah Carey, Janet Jackson, etc. say that a man is.

If you use your common sense then maybe you should learn that taking advice from celebrities isn't smart because they can't hold a man themselves. That's like a white man telling a black man what its like to be oppressed because of their skin color.

It is my argument that women in American society have become so ignorant that they don't know what a man is nor do they know how to handle him. I'll take this argument with anyone and be able to win. Thank you very much for reading and have a nice day.