I wrote this a little while ago. Had to let it sit a bit.
There was a moment when the sun peeked through today. The streams of light through the clouds bounced off the particles of floating drops of moisture in the air. They were thin, cool, veils of tiny misty water beads reincarnated from snowflakes shifting through the air, and once in a while, one or two would land on my face. They would leave their tiny, cold footprints here on the lid of my left eye, or there above my brow, and then again here on my lower lip (while I walked along, listening to this).
The mood of this photo is similar to my picture, except I am not looking into the camera like she is. Plus I look a bit more like the girl below...
My pussy pulsated with the rhythm of my heartbeat from the memory of his fingers, his cock, and his mouth. I felt like the way I looked in that photograph; like I was floating with one of those particles, being swept at the will of the wind, beaming in the sun… reflecting momentarily, briefly enough to shine in the light, and then, disappearing among the millions of other particles.
I’d given the prof a self-portrait: a photograph of my face taken by a regular film SLR at the beach. The reflector I was holding shows at the bottom right corner. It’s probably my favorite photo of myself. Slightly grainy, it looks like an eau-de-toilet advertisement. As I look at something to the back left of the lens, the camera captures a moment of ease, with my hair swept by the beach breeze beautifully and gently across my face and my right hand reaches across my chest to keep a few strands at bay. It’s the perfect, effortless, look-beautiful-but-not-trying-hard-to-look-it moment. I also like it because I think I look like I have real thoughts going on behind that face.
When the prof was spooning me between moments of dozing off, he told me that he liked the photograph. “I’m glad.” I said. I haven’t been sleeping well.
A look alike, though I have bigger boobs and no bangs.
Being in his bed made me want to sleep. The hair on his lower abdomen tickled my buttocks, but I didn’t want to shift and disturb his smooth breathing. I could hear them, his breath, his moment of peace.
30 minutes before that, he was hard, and hard at work, getting me off. The inside of my elbow still wears the mark of the belt he used to tie me down. I’m still pulsing at the memory of sounds I made when he went deep. He doesn’t talk much but I like it. I wanted to push.
–I want to ask you something
I said. His rhythm changed slightly. I was on my stomach, he was on top of me and he shifted his weight to move his ear closer to my mouth.
–Ask me what?
–I want you to give me permission to fuck other cocks.
Pause. He was surprised. I’d never brought this up before. I was taking a chance, because he has a possessive streak in him. Sleep with other girls, okay. But not boys.
–Why would I do that?
He said, gruffly, challenging me.
–Because I want it and I crave it. I want you to own my pussy.
I want you to own me, is what I wanted to say. I want my body to belong to you and I want you to tell me no, or yes.
He said nothing. He kept fucking me, but he was thinking about what I said.
When he had me on my back, limbs pinned, and spread, his cock moving smoothly and deeply in my ass, my mind said – look at me. I’d never seen him look at me for so long. Open, unblinking, penetrating eyes. I stared back. No challenge, no fear, no questions. The auroral light began to penetrate through the thick blinds, hitting his face. His eyes were clear and beautifully reflective. If I looked harder, I might have seen my reflection in them, but from moment to moment, I would close my eyes briefly to sink the small of my back deeper into the mattress to take more of him in.
In post coital moments, we talked.
–I think it’s interesting that I bring out this desire to fuck other boys.
His eyes were closed.
–Or is that always there?
–It’s kind of always been there. I just don’t act on it much.
I looked at the ceiling. That much was true. Though I’m not sure if I am doing a Clinton as far as the experience with Benjamin goes. I don’t know if being fondled, roughly, in an underground parking lot counts. The thing about having good cock is that the more good cock you have, the more good cock you want, and the more good cock you want… So it is true that he does bring out the desire to fuck other boys. Though, it’s probably more like the desire to fuck other boys exactly like him.
–I want you to own my pussy… tell me what I can and cannot do with it.
I took a deep breath, repeating what I’d said earlier without him inside me embarrassed me a little.
–It’s your pussy, you can do with it what you want.
–Well I sure hope so. But that’s not the point. What you mean is that you don’t want the responsibility.
–It’s inappropriate.
–What does appropriate have to do with it?
I rolled away from him and on to my stomach. We do all sorts of inappropriate things, I thought.
–Tell me you don’t want me to fuck other boys.
–Well, I don’t want you to fuck other boys. It’d make me sad. And I don’t know why.
Intimacy. It cuts to the marrow. No knife could make that sort of briery deliverance.
I wrapped my arms around him and he breathed into my chest.
–I’m afraid to get too attached to you.
–What are you going to do about that? He said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
–What? Nothing. I think it’s too late.
I rolled off the bed and went to hide in the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror.
Update:
** I have never really had a big jealousy streak. But God fucking help me. The prof’s girlfriend, the one who he just broke up with is staying with him. And when he was with her before, lying, cheating, I had no issues. And now, they are breaking up/broken up – and she is there, he said this:
me: how’s drama?
d: it’s ok guess
happier when tess is around
which is problematic
me: thought she had apartment?
d: she has it
remodeling, not open another week
annoying
me: not that annoying if you are happy w her there
so it’s good
d: not so much
dunno what to do
blah
anyway
me: funny
if you’re happier
then stay happy
seems simple enough
d: short term
me: life is short
d: if we were together all the stuff would happen all over again
me: maybe 2nd time
older wiser
could work
but there aren’t any rulebooks for this shit
d: past = future
is one
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