denny-1's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Just a taste... Moving slowly through time in an unnatural way. My mind races, yet I think of nothing. The eyes reveal the truth, the truth is the purpose, the purpose is the reason to live. To think that a soul could cross my path to plague my thoughts like an unwelcome guest. How can the coils of fate twist themselves on my empty heart? What dream is this? What nightmare is left in my head? Ah to sleep, to dream... I think of What If. What's right, what's wrong...it weighs on my being only relieved by the blood red liquid that warms my throat. One, two, three, glasses, and the troubles are merely flights of fancy fluttering about like butterflies on a hot summer day. I feed. I feed off of the dream...the fantasy�I'm fed by the erotic scenario that whistles in my head, that surrounds my body in a pool of warm thought. I want to feed off of his words, his eyes, and his loins. I know nothing of the reality that makes his soul tick, only of the fantasy that ticks at me like a timeless clock...and yet I feel fulfilled by this? My reality, burdened by the presence of another. A crutch, a band-aid, Santa clause on Christmas Eve, he holds my hand, he wipes my tears, he kisses my neck, and at times more often than not, I am left empty, unsatisfied, numb...and yet, warm, safe, and protected? What words describe this behavior? Behavior? Is this behavior chosen like fate�masochism, perhaps? What if? No regrets? Take it from me. Demand it from me. Ask it of me ...I shall feed you my soul as a mother feeds her child. I give it to you, the stranger with the soul behind the green eyes... What IF�. He stood alone by the grand white pillar. His hair dark, his eyes nicely accented by glasses, his body notably fit under his spring weather clothes. Our eyes met. Who spoke first? It is unclear. The words we exchanged melted into the melody of an unplayed symphony. The sight of his lips as he spoke made my thighs tingle as visions of his face between my legs clouded my thought. Why? We'd just met? Why did my loins moisten? Last call? Already...this couldn�t be over yet�I thought of one last drink�I thought of his body pressed against mine, I thought of crossing my legs� We entered a dark club packed with faceless bodies. We were alone in a field of wild flowers. He took my hand and and lead me into a whirlwind of moving parts that swirled to an unrecognizable beat. With his right hand he drew me close to his body, with his left he held my lower back and pressed my hips against his crotch. He looked into my eyes, I stared back without hesitation. Was it the wine, the martinis or the blood that pumped thick within me? No words, no sounds uttered. Our bodies spoke a language neither one of us had heard before. With his hand holding my body against his we danced. My heart raced to the beat of the music, my breasts hardened. I wondered if the wetness that was building between my legs would moisten his pants. I knew his thoughts mirrored my desires as his hard mass pressed against the side of my womb. What felt like momentary bliss was suddenly, and abruptly ended by strikingly bright lights and strange awkward faces. Exit stage left. We walked hand and hand like grade school children alone for the first time. The communication was honest, direct, uninhibited. We shared pizza, drank bottled water. Lost in Translation...lost in transition...found in a transfusion of souls. I longed to reach out and kiss his lips. I longed for him to forcefully take my body against the ally street wall and press himself, with authority, toward me. I wanted no escape. I wanted him to look me in the eyes and slowly, with precision, kiss my lips and slid his tongue into my mouth. I wanted...I wanted... Instead, like the awaited schoolgirl's first kiss, this feeling, this anxiety bottled up in frustration, dragged on like an endless book. I was frightened by my feelings, I was frightened by the honesty of the exchange, and I was frightened by his intensity. I didn�t want the moment to end�yet I yearned for a new page to begin. We returned to our Hotel, to our separate hotel rooms that awaited us, with their separate beds, their separate sheets, and their separate white fluffy comforters. Good Girl, Bad Girl�playing on my mind� We sat in the lobby trying to prolong the evening...morning...finally, giving in to fate.... we walked toward the elevator to say "good evening". The inside of the elevator looked like industrial waves of a passionate sea. We were alone, at last. How long to the 12th floor I thought...how long do we have together before parting ways? The door closed, and he immediately took advantage of the ride. He moved his body close to mine...against the flesh of the cool steal wall. My ass pressed against the railing, his hands held the underneath of my outer thighs and he pulled me in toward him. With a controlled excitement my eyes gleamed with anticipation. What next?�I didn�t have time to contemplate. A ding resonated in the empty hall and the door slowly parted. �I guess we should exit� �right� There stood a long rectangular stainless steal table with two stainless steal high back chairs on either side of the length, pushed in. The table was positioned in a cubby like room with a panel wall that opened to reveal a solitary ice machine. From the hall leading to the elevators, the table was hidden�from the elevators, the room was in clear view. The look on my face must have propelled his next move. As in chess, it was strategic, and played off of his opponent. He brushed against me once again, this time, a more deliberate move, and one made with less aggression. He pulled my waist close to him, and with his right hand placed gently behind my head he drew me in. I was helpless. His lips were soft, but not to soft�his mouth tasted of pure delight, like a chocolate sundae with whip cream I devoured him. He was forceful enough with his body that it drove me over the edge. I didn�t want the moment to end�more�I kept thinking�more. He pulled away and I pulled him in. I could feel the blood rush though my body like a speeding train. I could feel the g-sting in my pants slide from the moisture he had caused. I could see my nipples hard though my shirt. I could visualize our bodies sticky with sweat. I wanted him on that stainless table. I wanted him to lye my body on the table, face between my legs, pants around my ankles. But�the good girl adorned in halo sat on my shoulder and said, wait�you�ve just met this man�and as the kiss drew to a close, I listen�I listen to that angelic voice in my head� �can I call you?���no I�ll call you,� I said. I wrote his cell and room number down on a random piece of paper in my pocketbook, and without pen had to make use of my lip liner. (mac-nude) I watched him walk away� In the elevator I went�regretting, hot, wet and frustrated. Fuck it, I thought�literally. I went back to my room, checked myself in the mirror and ventured back into the elevator with gasping anticipation. Questioning my intentions�I exited with a calculated stride. Down the hall, counting the numbers on every door, left to right, right to left, until the number on my scrap paper matched the four silver numbers on the door, the last door on the left. I stood, took in a breath, and wrapped lightly on the door. Moments later the door opened and revealing a smug smile behind gleaming eyes. �come in�, he said and without hesitation I stormed in, grabbed his face between both hands and pushed his body toward the closed door. We kissed in meaningful passion. Slowly he turned my body toward the fluffy white bed that sat empty in the small hotel room. Within seconds I found myself lying on a cloud of goose down, with my head propped slightly on a soft feathery pillow. His body now on top of mine, stratleing me at the hips, he bent down and with his elbows he propped himself up just enough to look directly into my eyes, a beautiful, uncomfortable stare. A sting run down my spine, a strange and wonderfully frightening sting. The window of his soul opened and I fell in. Slowly he began kissing me, and with a heated passion he continued. My eyes closed and it felt as if I were floating on white fluffy clouds. My body was full of heat and excitement, the kind of heat you feel lying on a beach blanket in the middle of an August heat wave, and with as much excitement as you experience riding one of those intense coasters that push you to gforce speeds. The feeling between my legs was so tremendous that I quivered under the wait of his body. His kiss delved deeper into my soul than I had ever experienced. He stopped, stared again and with soft slow movements he unbuttoned my blouse, reveling the pleasure on my breasts. Underneath I wore a black bra covered by a transparent black tank top. My breath unsteady, his heavy. His body now above me, strateling my loins, I felt the hard reality of what I wanted. He placed his left hand under the tank top and proceeded to lift it above my breast, revealing a solid silk bra with a front clasp. With both hands now he released the clasp and my breasts stood exposed, nipples hard and pink. He bent down, took my left breast in his right hand and put his lips to my nipples. My back arched in pleasure, my body aching in desire. He enjoyed watching my pleasure drawn his lips. I enjoyed watching the way his mouth looked on my breast. Our eyes meet with similar pleasure. MORE LATER�this is what happens when I�m in rare form�and rare form I am in�.HA�NYC here I cum! HA!
5:25 p.m. - 2004-03-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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