Thursday, December 30, 2004
a story i have...this falls under a more transgressive, shock writing, and perhaps not so fictional while i'm at it. but a story....whatsoever.
critique is welcome. skip it if it starts to alarm you.
I have been doing research alot latley. About people. Insighting myself with their own pleasurable stories and dillusions of reality, and whatever else they have to say. I think about this while masturbating. Rubbing my clit violently and shaking my own bed. Hardly ever do I need to insert, to get off. I don't understand how some girls can't do it. Orgasm, I mean. I don't know, but now that just makes me think, maybe i do it too much. Latley about once a day Iv'e been doing it. I don't even know why, myself. Perhaps it consents I don't have to think about much, for say 5 minutes, tops. It's all about getting off to me, masturbating. And i can get off, in seconds. It's not so exciting or a very proud thing to think about. But i don't feel dirty yet. When i was younger, I used to feel dirty about doing it. I got older then i felt sexier about it. Cause I would be hit on more or occasionally asked in a unverbal way to carry out short favors for teenage boys I don't really find appealing. Being wanted, Used or for whatever reason still turned me on though. Then I felt dirty about it again for a while. I still moan like i would if I were having sex, just short and not as loud. And in a differant way. I breathe heavy, but..it feels spiritless. Right before i cum. I always think about how bad it's gonna taste after.
I think the reason I'm even doing it now is to get back in-touch with myself. I'm not sure though. It feels familliar, but it doesn't feel right. About 5 minutes ago, I gave myself a 10 second orgasm. I was thinking something angry about something. I'm not sure what it was. Before that, Denise popped into my head, it wasn't anything Angry about Her either. It's not important.
I do remember thinking How I'd have enjoyed getting her off more than myself though.And then I pictured being turned on when she slid her tongue in my belly button and french kissed it. And how before the break-up I could'nt stand anything touching it even, without flinching until whatever it was stopped. It still tickled me unconditonally. Not as much as it tingled though.
I wish tonight would have been differant. I wish she would have cared about the things I said to her on the phone. Instead of telling me her idea of things being better, another way, on the count of she's not good for me. Of course I'm not gonna just trash her feelings. But I'm concerned. And latley to just forget. You could say, I fuck myself.
A lie and a farce and a fake;
x 4:21 AM
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