DATING: LIE WOMAN HAVE TOLD ME.

PART 1


1. “I love you.” —
I tried to find your love in every heartache you put me through.
I tried so hard, ever day, trying to put the pieces together, trying to find the missing piece. I gave you every last ounce of my love just to find out that I was looking for something that wasn’t even there at the first place. You were never in love with me.

2. “I miss you.” —
I believed you every time when you told me that you missed me after ignoring me for days,  and you tell me that you missed me and I believed you again because I didn’t want to be the miserable one who keeps missing the person who doesn’t even think about me. You never missed me, if you did you wouldn’t have ignored me.

3. “I will never leave you.” —
I still remember the night when you fed me with those words too sweet for me to even swallow. But look at me now, left alone empty with nothing but the sleeve of my shirt to whip the tears falling from my eyes. You made sweet promises that you couldn’t keep.

4. “I will pick you up when you fall.” —
It’s been days since I’ve fallen off my feet, dust has slowly started to build layers on my skin there’s no one to pick me up. You’re the who told that you’d be there for me, but you’re the one who dropped me carelessly.

5. “I am sorry and I mean it.” —
No. You’re not sorry, and you obviously don’t mean it. If you were even a bit sorry, you wouldn’t keep repeating it over and over again.


PART 2


I can’t make sense of you and what you want
it is baffling to me the things that you will say 
and then on the other hand- the hand that isn’t 
always reaching for me despite the walls- 
you will do something so else, so different
so far from what you promised and what you meant 
and I thought you were getting there, that maybe,
just maybe, we were getting somewhere past 
all of the things that were in our way, but I was wrong.
We are too different, too else. You are always 
making mistakes that somehow become mine,
never yours, never sprouting from your garden,
but oh, do I have a forest of faults
an army of trees reaching up to the sky 
full of my problems, my mean, my selfish. 
I don’t understand it when you still insist 
that you want to be with me when so often it seems 
you are trying to cut me down at the roots,
what seems like fault to you is growth to me 
I have come back from every terrible thing 
and maybe I am not a beautiful, delicate tree
but I am still standing, still proud
will still be a thousand years from now 
when whatever little daffodil you end up with 
withers away. You can’t keep what you said
but I promise you this: come take a walk through me 
five years from now and you will envy 
the eden that could have been yours. 



PART 3
I know that on a parallel universe

We would have a less complex story

Where your soul would be my universe

Your eyes, would be my glowing galaxy

Your voice, would be my repeating verse

And our love, would be growing in its glory





PART 4

We made up

I gave you my heart on a silver platter,

You threw it away like it didn’t matter.

You gave your beautiful heart to clumsy old me,

Who was a heartless monster but you just didn’t see.

You used to care for me and hold my hand, took the lead.

That’s all it took to give my heart as its all I ever want and need.

My care and love was disguising the filth inside me which filled me to the brim,

Your want and need were left unfulfilled as I destroyed your heart and made you grim.

You broke my heart and scattered them in pieces,

Filled me with unimaginable pain that never decreases.

Albeit in pieces your heart still existed with the hope of being whole once again,

What about me who lost his heart, turning into a monster and causing you so much pain.

I wanted to care for you love you I wanted to stay,

But here I am mending my broken pieces day by day.

I guess monsters like myself are not loved, they are to be hated and cursed,

You tried to love me, for that I’m grateful but in the atrocities I was just too immersed.

I tried to hold you tried to make you see,

That you are not a monster, that’s not how it should be.

How can I not be a monster when all I ever did was totally monstrous,

Coming in your life, filling it with love and then leaving you totally ambiguous.

Maybe hurting me hurt you more,

I am broken here but you’re the one who is crying on the floor.

Tears won’t stop streaming down my face,

I look up in desperation, how to end this phase.

Let me dry up your tears and give you my pieces,

Let us lead this pain to a road where it decreases.

Even if they are in millions, I’ll mend the pieces of your heart,

Don’t matter if it takes my whole life, for you, there just can’t be anymore hurt.

You can mend the pieces of my heart which is broken,

But what about my soul who is sleeping after inhaling cocaine.

We’ll revive the soul through love, make her feel alive again,

Take you to sea, the sound of waves crashing will take away all the pain.

The pain will go away, my soul will revive,

But I am afraid to take this dive.

When the going gets tough I’ll hold your hand,

It’ll be a little cold but in yours it’ll perfectly land.

My hand shakes I am scared,

What if this feeling is to be feared?

All of your fears will definitely eliminate,

The moment our hands perfectly interdigitate.

Then take my hand and let us escape,

Let’s end up there where we will always feel safe.

To infinity and beyond, to the stars where they’d so brightly shine,

Your radiance will illuminate, I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.



PART 5


I still check my email every day, hoping to see your name. When I don’t, like every day before, it’s another dagger piercing my heart. But I keep checking. Hope is funny like that; it doesn’t care about the day or week or month before. It knows, despite all evidence to the contrary, that there is always the smallest chance that you’ll finally decide to answer me. Logically, I know that you won’t, but hope doesn’t respond well to logic

WHAT TO DO?
Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind’s way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door.

Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying ‘time heals all wounds’ is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door.

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told

REVIEW: I WATCHED BEFORE SUNSET AGAIN FOR THE MILLION TIME..

Celine: It's not so easy for me to be a romantic. You start off that way, and, after you've been screwed over a few times, you... you forget about all your delusional ideas, and you just take what comes into your life.

Celine: That's not even true! I haven't been... screwed over, I've just had too many... blah relationships. They weren't mean, they cared for me, but... they were no real... connection, or excitement! At least, not from my side.

Jesse: God, I'm sorry, is it... is it really that bad? It's not, right?

Celine: You know... It's not even that, I was... I was fine, until I read your fucking book! It stirred shit out of me, you know? It reminded me how... genuinely romantic I was, how I had so much hope in things and... now it's like... I don't believe in anything that relates to love, I don't feel things for people anymore!

Celine: In a way... I put all my romanticism into that one night and I was never able to feel all this again. Like... somehow this night took things away from me and... I expressed them to you, and you took them with you! It made me feel cold, like if love wasn't for me!




People just have an affair, or even entire relationships. They break up and they forget! They move on like they would have changed brand of cereals!
I feel I was never able to forget anyone I’ve been with. Because each person have their own, specific qualities, you can never replace anyone. What is lost is lost.

Each relationship, when it ends, really damages me. I never fully recover. That’s why I’m very careful with getting involved, because it hurts too much! Even getting laid! I actually don’t do that.
I will miss on the other person the most mundane things. Like I’m obsessed with little things.

…

Little things. I think it’s the same with people. I see in them little details, so specific to each of them, that move me, and that I miss, and will always miss. You can never replace anyone, because everyone is made of such beautiful specific details.

Like I remember the way, your beard has a bit of red in it. And how the sun was making it glow, that morning, right before you left. I remember that, and I missed it! I’m really crazy, right?”




I loved the first film in the Before series, I was immensely charmed and I couldn’t help but conclude that It’s indeed one of the best romance films that I’ve ever seen.

And I had to know what was going to happen afterwards even if Linklater could have terminated Jesse and Céline’s story, after the first one without problems.

I’ve also heard that the two films following up to the first one were even better than the first one, so I just had to see for myself. I must say that now that I have seen them, up until now I think It’s true.

As I said I loved the first one, but this one found It’s footing quicker, it had the same philosophical conversations, but also had incredibly witty and highly comedic banters, where I couldn’t have resisted laughing even if I had wanted to, but much sadder, hard-hitting conversations too.

This one moved at a pace that felt somewhat more natural, I was surprised by how quickly time had passed when it ended.

Anyway, I’m going to delve into the review now, of the second film: Before Sunset.

Nine years have passed during which Jesse and Céline didn’t encounter each other, even if both lived in New York at the exact time, but New York is busy and densely populated, so your chances of finding one particular person in those streets are very small indeed.  

They had promised each other nine years that they would meet in December six months later in that exact same train station in Vienna.

Jesse showed up and waited for Céline, who was unable to show up due to her grandmother’s funeral, and since they hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, so they never got to see each other again.

That is until luck or fate would have it, they meet again in Paris during Jesse’s French book tour, he wrote a book about their time together.

The fateful bookstore where Jesse is is Shakespeare and Company (cinema’s and Céline’s favourite Parisian bookstore). Céline shows up and spots Jesse, and before they know it they are talking like no time has passed at all.

They’re exchanging jokes, are flattering each other and are once again having deep conversations, and when you look at them it becomes clear that they just click, they’re simply two people that seem made for one another.

It becomes fairly evident that they both still harbour deep feelings towards one another and have never properly moved on. But life continued, both have had new lovers, and Jesse is even married and has a son.

Both are despite appearances deeply unhappy in their respective relationship and marriage and confess to one another, with each other they can tell the other one literally everything.

And when they are together they are both happy and are their best selves, they bring out each other’s best qualities, you’re rooting for them to be together, you’re almost wishing for a married man to cheat on his wife.

And Linklater absolutely knows you’re thinking this and plays around with it, ending it on a fairly ambiguous note, as Céline goes into full flirty mode and treats Jesse to her best Nina Simone imitation. With her delightful attempt at an American accent, and at the end both Jesse and Céline, and the audience knows that he’s gonna miss flight (“baby you’re gonna miss that plane”,“I know”).  And that Céline is not merely flirting but seducing.

Hawke and Delpy were both fantastic in Before Sunrise, they both shined and I really hadn’t been so impressed by any acting in a romantic film in a long while, the last two times that I honestly remember being wowed like this was with Blue Valentine and Blue is the warmest colour (apparently I have something with the colour blue).

But upon watching Before Sunset I must admit that I was perhaps even more impressed with them than the first time, you could tell that the bond the two had to build while filming Before Sunrise must have grown even more, as far as I know Hawke and Delpy were never lovers in real life, but you can see that they love each other in real life as well, as friends, on a platonic level.

Which is why I think they are so great at playing lovers because they trust each other. Hawke and Delpy were in this one again both charming, unforced, natural, believable, realistic and ultimately utterly convincing, both just deliver a consummate performance.

Jesse and Céline hadn’t seen each other for a long time, so naturally, there was some awkwardness, there was even some discomfort initially, but there was also the exact amount of excitement and happiness at seeing each other again.

They act the way people that once shared something really intense and appreciated each other greatly, even fell in love but had to part ways on good terms, though, would behave, so when they see each other again all those memories flood back of course.

And It’s both exciting and overwhelming. They talk and very soon It’s as if they never were apart, you can see them fall in love all over again, they have the same dynamic: talk about everything, tease each other, and Céline once again pulls out her wonderful, sarcastic, daring somewhat spicy humour (”How are your sex problems?”,“my sex problems?!”), which Jesse more than gladly responds to, there’s brilliant stuff there. 

But then he drops a bomb: He’s married and he has a son back home in the United States, he avoids the subject of his marriage but eventually confesses that he isn’t happy, neither is Céline with her photographer boyfriend, but when Jesse and Céline are together they both light up, they come alive, they’re the love of each other’s lives and they seem to know it.

Yet they can’t just throw a grenade and blow up their respective lives, so they repress it, and for the rest of the film, you see two people who are dying to touch each other, there are looks and little touches that say a million words, and in the hands of lesser actors they could have easily looked like two horny, selfish idiots.

But they manage to make it beautiful, sexy, raw, gripping, tragic and utterly heartbreaking. It’s the first time that a film has really made me root for someone who’s married and a woman in a relationship, to cheat on each other’s partners.

They’re literally the loves of each other’s lives but have been separated by circumstances that they didn’t ask for, you’re almost naturally inclined to say, oh okay you guys deserve one last steamy night.

After that, you can go back, to the reality that makes you unhappy, and neither the French dude and the American gal has to know right? But that would be playing it dirty. I mean even if you can’t be with each other, isn’t seeing them one last time and just knowing that there’s one person on earth who really, no doubt loves you, even if there’s an ocean, a continent separating you, enough?

Hawke and Delpy capture this illicit longing, sort of forbidden love perfectly, each of their emotions, they’re expressions and body language feel spot on, they force you to feel for them and put yourself in their shoes and think about what you would do.

Linklater then frustratingly and purposely ends it with a massive and ambiguous cliffhanger, because he knows what you’re thinking.

Céline has just sung Jesse a song, that was clearly about him, and then does the Nina Simone imitation with an attempt at an American accent, that you can tell she’s purposely trying to make sound as sexy as possible, while she moves along to the song.

And usually when a woman behaves like that, we all know where It’s going, and if you’re not twelve you can almost naturally deduct what will happen next, but then again Jesse and Céline aren’t in a normal situation, it would be cheating, so maybe they went for it or maybe they didn’t…

Linklater never reveals this, at least not in this one, and at the time it literally killed me, but It’s a genius and flawless, well executed, extremely unconventional, un-Hollywood ending.

Very few times have I seen an American director venture into such territory, usually, that stuff is left to the more “hedonistic” European filmmakers.

It’s inappropriate and would offend people with extremely tight morals, but It’s real life, stuff like this happens, all the time, all over the world. I thought it was extremely brave, Linklater is a director with guts if you ask me.

As I’ve said earlier in the review, I loved the first film. But I loved the second one even more because, in both the acting and direction you get to see a progression for the better, both the actors and Linklater seemed to have gained more confidence, you could tell that he and they knew exactly what to do.

The pacing and timing of the film are near cinematic perfection in my view, every joke and every lovely or less lovely, unexpected surprise in the film is delivered at the exact right time when it has the most emotional impact.

The film moves at a perfect rhythm, not too slow but never too fast, you’re never confused and you’re never about to fall asleep either, It’s exactly right, unlike Before Sunrise, which I never found boring, but some scenes could have benefitted, if only a little from a quicker pacing.

The cinematography follows Linklater’s usual classic recipe: European city, Jesse and Céline, the camera follows them up close. But I do have to appraise Linklater for something, once again instead of opting for showing off the city, which Paris lends itself to perfectly, It’s the city of light, the city of love after all, I’ve been there three times and it is positively one of my favourite places in Europe or the world for that matter.

And most filmmakers, especially American ones, can not resist to show it off, Linklater does and instead shows off his two main character’s emotional connection, he deeply connects us with them.

What we do see of Paris, are lesser known parts of the city that aren’t shown in films so often, I honestly don’t think that the Eiffel Tower ever made an appearance.

I think but I might be going on a limb here, that the showing less known parts of Paris, could be seen almost as a symbolism of Jesse and Céline, finding and exploring new sides of each other.

The soundtrack is great, pleasant and highly atmospheric music, we’re treated to some Nina Simone which is always nice, but the highlight is the song that Julie Delpy sings for Ethan Hawke’s character, Delpy shortly after released an album of her own which by the way happens to be excellent.

In Celine’s apartment, Céline put on a CD “Just In Time” by jazz singer Nina Simone, who had died a few months before filming started. Céline animatedly tells Jesse about seeing her in concert. The scene had a special resonance for the two stars.

“I picked that song, which is my favourite song of hers,” Delpy said in an interview.“Ethan and I were supposed to see Nina Simone play in Vienna when we were shooting the first film. We never got a chance to see her, because she was too sick to get on the plane. So, later I went to see her, and I was always sad that I never got a chance to see it with him. It was kind of like a little personal reminder that we never got to see her together.”

To end the review on a quick and more uplifting note, this film is one of those rare, very special instances where the second film in a trilogy is as good as the first one or even better, my final thought was well done, Richard, bravo!

DATING: LIST OF NON SEXUAL FORM OF INTIMACY

List of Non-sexual forms of intimacy

watchingtv/movies together
going to events together like carnivals, festivals etc.
going on dates like to the movies or shopping
sharing secrets
hugs
sharing drinks
phone calls
talking
touching noses
cuddling
philosophical discussions
hand holding
sharing jokes
sharing smiles
laying your head on someone’s shoulder
linking arms
massages
tickling
playing with hair
scratching backs
tracing designs on arms
talking about the future
a hand written note
moving your head to their chest and listening to their heartbeat.
singing together or playing instruments together
dancing
feeding each other
drawing/writing on one another
brushing your partners hair
sharing food
sitting knee to knee across from each other
doing beauty treatments like facials or manicures, hairdying or face masks
reading books together
take care of your partner when sick
talking about the relationship (how I feel with you, How I feel w/this relationship)
cooking together
head-scratches
hugging
discussions about yourselves (like flaws, shortcomings, passions, stuff)
being physically/emotionally vulnerable
just sleeping together,
an actual open honest conversation
bathing and taking care of hygiene together
butterfly kisses
nuzzling
telling on-the-fly stories
meditating or sharing spirituality
grooming
sharing hobbies
studding
sharing personal stories
shaving
seeing each other without make-up or all dressed up
moral support for major events
crying, sharing emotions, comforting each other
listening to someones heartbeat or breathing
camping/hiking
sleepovers
being with animals together
going on trips together
sharing clothes/jewelry/personal items
sharing online social media
cleaning someone else’s living space
going with them to a doctor/therapist
doing art together
kissing different body parts
making out
volunteer together
work together
talking about wants and desires
experience new things together
do an extracurricular together
play games together
play sports together
walking together
being respectful and kind to one another (helping them do things, open doors for them etc.)
sharing responsibilities (chores, babysitting etc.)
giving each other presents, special things from the heart
talking about and respecting each others boundaries
public displays of affection
grooming in front of each other
wrestling or play fighting
texting/talking online
looking in each other’s eyes
complimenting each other
falling asleep over skype or chat
making faces at each other
sky watching
write poetry
inside jokes
respect each other
tell them how you feel about them
get to know each other better (playing 20 questions)
go for a ride together
close your eyes and memorise each others faces with your fingers
walk arm in arm
make a playlist together
make up your own words or slang
go out to eat
list each other’s best features
bring your faces close without touching and feel each other breath
go shopping together
throw a party or other event together
leave love notes
exercise together
exchange something meaningful
try to have a whole conversation with only eye contact and facial expressions
sit back to back and feel each other’s heartbeat
learn their favorite food and make it
run errands together
look at photos together
take photos together
go people watch
have a staring contest
learn something new together
take turns leading each other on a nature walk blindfolded
get to know each others family and friends
draw or sculpt each other
paint each other’s bodies
play with kids together
practicing a skill together
sharing food
being in comfortable clothes together
waving goodbye
being comfortable with each other’s bodily functions
any others you can think of?

STORY: MEETING THE ALPHA MALE OF HER DREAM

Sometimes, what we want in our lives isn’t control but rather, the loss of control…

… the need to be free of responsibility and just hold on for the ride.

… the desire to know we are special enough to make another person want to lose it because we are worth it.

… to be able to see and experience that hidden side of our partner wholly and without interruption from our actions, nor hesitation on their part.

The exhilarating freedom that comes from surrender as we feel the comforting weight of their body atop ours or the grip of their fingers into our skin from an excess of emotion; the assurance that we want to be taken in the most primal and wanton of ways possible without active input on our part…

… a chance to engage in a passionate encounter so consuming we don’t care if the bed is creaking or the neighbours can hear.

… a moment to be a man or a woman rutting feverishly rather than two dull people having sex.

… and last, but not least, to be able to moan and swear heatedly as you experience the hot, visceral spurt of aching climax that makes you cry out their name like a curse: not an orgasm that is blissful and leaves you feeling like a lover, but one wretched and draining that let’s you know how much of an animal that no one else knows you can be.

What had started as an diverting night at the bar, had turned more intense than she would have imagined her evening would be tonight - all because she had dressed in particular manner and blurted out one of her particular catchphrases.  That’s when she felt his eyes on her.

She didn’t know who he was, not at first anyway.  But the intensity of his eyes made her fidget and restless - he wasn’t going to be ignored - and so she turned to face him. He was the alpha male she was looking for. Dreamed about.

And she knew.  Not his real name, no one traded that online to strangers, but they had traded other things; late nights spent breathing deeply as she typed salacious words of need and want and longing, biting her nail as she tapped the enter key as she committed the words to him to fuel his lust that in turn kindled hers.  All the while safe in the anonymity of being behind a screen, and she more brazen because of it.

Her breath now quickened again, much as it had before - here, before her, was not some faceless fantasist, or even an uncharming pervert she had half-suspect lay on the other side of the screen - well proportioned and charming, he was as much a specimen as he was a man.  A stranger, just less, but one who knew all the things that made her writhe in her bed or leave her computer when the pangs of desire came too great to bear.

He came to her, and she knew what would come.  As a person, she needed to stand her ground.  The elemental woman in her wanted to submit.

The bed groaned as she landed hard upon her back; her hair dishevelled, her face flushed, her body womanly and naked and perfect.  Somewhere at the bar, her friends were probably still giggling over something silly, but she was here, watching him pushing the door closed and turning the lock.  Click.  It sounded loud, like the sound of her fate being sealed.  Then she watched him undress.  The room felt hot, but a shiver ran down her spine.  Between her legs, the lips of her sex were already wet, even though he had barely touched her.

Anticipation.

Her breathing started to become ragged, yet all he was doing was walking towards her.  His cock was hard and large and in his hand as he made a show of stroking it with smooth, practised motions that whispered of many lewd nights she had spent to inspire him to it.  There was no sign that he had a condom or was intending to use one… She thought to tell him, but made the mistake of locking eyes with his and the words caught in her throat.

The bed creaked.  From her mouth, a soft gasp issued.  His hands seized her legs with strong fingers and parted them almost effortlessly, and her breathing was quicker now.  His eyes weren’t those of a man looking for a quick fuck - they took her in, everything about her, in her entirety.  He didn’t want to have her pussy.  He wanted to have her.

It was debatable whether she could muster any resistance.

He filled her in one thrust.  Stretching her to make her toes curl and her fingers dig into his arm.  Disengaging her, he held her down by the wrists.  The bed began to object vocally to their carnal exchange, yet there was no room in the primitive mind for care or concern except for the act of claiming and being claimed.  Their voices mixed; moans, grunts, inarticulate cries of pleasure and the taunts of flesh striking flesh in the unmistakable articulation of sex.

He took her the way she wanted; the way she dreamed - deep, harsh thrusting strokes of his bare cock into the soaked folds of her womanhood that sent waves of dizzying pleasure uncoiling through her body and resounding in the tips of her nipples and the sobs of her lips that she managed between drinking down deep breaths of air.

In her ear, the sound of his primitive groans urged her to thrust her hips back up into his.  She wanted his cock, and she wanted the other thing he had to offer her greedy, clenching cunt that rippled in spasms around his girth.

And then…

The moment, she secretly desired.  His blunted, swollen head, kissing the entrance to her womb as he took hold of her legs and threw them back.  Her vagina felt like it had melted a lifetime ago, hot and wet and well used.  A temple.

His temple.

He asked her if she was on the pill and his eyes demanded no lies.  Her face was halfway between shock and confusion, as though it had been a crucial detail she had forgotten, but the walls of her pussy squeezed convulsively.

His face turned savage.  His hips welded to her as the loose sack of semen-laden balls kissed the tight circles of her anus.  He ground her into the mattress until the seductive call of her slippery passage became unbearable and the thick, ivory flood of his genetic material came, angry and fierce as his hot desire to claim her and own her.

Delicate pink lips parted in a wordless ‘O’.  Above her, his eyes had become blind, but his hips continued to work her as though possessed.  Now, he was fulfilling her deepest, darkest desires; desires she had typed out and told him with brutal and shocking explicitness in a night of lust-addled desire meant to scandalise and entice.  Enticement to which he now responded as he spilled his seed and bred her pussy with every intention of making her carry his baby.

THE NEXT MORNING:


As his hips beat to a blissful rhythm between her wide-spread legs, her mind drifted away on seemingly unrelated matters, even as her hands clutched desperately at his muscular buttocks to urge him to greater efforts whilst the creaking leather beneath them acknowledged those straining efforts.  On the carpet, discarded clothes lay forgotten; a long tear in her skirt and several buttons popped from his shirt mute testament to the urgency of their carnal need.

Her neighbours who thought her prudish; friends and family who still thought of her as ‘that little girl’; work colleagues who barely gave her a second glance.  The looks she would have gotten if those very same people could see her now as she moaned out her pleasure as she received the exhilarating rush of an uncompromising fuck from the stallion of a man who desired her more than he could bear to wait for a moment longer without her.

With the seductive velvet of her sex already soaked from dire arousal, his manhood and loins were glistening with the juices of her need; a need impossible to define with mere words, but desiring expression regardless.  Gathering her up in his strong arms, his hips clapped against her repeatedly as he drove the throbbing inches of his shaft into the soft folds of her pussy, his every thrust resounding from her core in surging waves of pleasure through the rest of her body.

They knew they had risked much for this moment, but he needed her and, in so knowing, she in turn needed him with a desperate fervency that itself bordered on madness.  To see that unbound desire in his eyes; to hear the panting of his hot breath; to feel the hot throb of his bare cock buried in her and driving her to heights she could never attain on her own - that unrestrained, unreasonable, and yet, undeniable craving of a woman to feel the hot, gasping spurt of seed - of life - emptied like a bursting torrent into her waiting depths.





HER THOUGHTS:


Another day that I can’t write something beautiful without thinking of you; without painting the image of your face as a reference to why my heart beats too loud. Like every song played in the radio, poems and metaphors scribbled by poets directly points me to you; making me remember all those nights where we bathe the darkness and redness of love and pain. You are a tattoo etched between my meninges, you reside in my brain. You are the cells and oxygen that runs through my valves, you nourishes my stomach with butterflies and ache. You are everything and everywhere. And I want to stop loving you but every inch of my being still cares. I know, I feel too much, but I think you deseve this kind of love, even if in reality, you’re no longer around.