Monday, March 10, 2014

Depressive Citizen Followup



                It’s been awhile since I’ve been here.  Rereading my last post I was sorely tempted to take it down, particularly as I have started meeting actual people in the real world again who might read this blog, but I decided not to.  That would have defeated the purpose of the blog in many ways.  I started this blog as a place for true stories, published under an alter ego, as the stories were not the sort appreciated or approved of by society at large.  Of course they were intended to be sexy kinky stories, but those aren’t the only stories not approved of by society.  Depression, or really any variety of fucked up, is kind’ve a taboo topic.  Admitting it is seen as a weakness, a liability, or a warning sign.  The fact is though, that uncomfortable as it is, it’s brutally honest and I’m going to let it stand.   

                The more that I talk to people, watch people, and have real conversations, the more I realize that the ‘status quo’ that people espouse and aspire to is fictional.  The role models in film and novels are actually fictional, and people lie.  Everyone lies about their struggles and about what particular things are fucked up about them.  When I really get to know a person, I realize that they struggle with something that’s either similar to what I struggle with, or something that is equally fucked up in a different way.  

                I ran across this article, on Fet actually, which led me to the article which inspired his post.  Here are both of those links.  They’re both good reads.  I don’t actually know these people, but I like what they wrote.

How To Be A Good Depressive Citizen by Ferret on theferret.com
Miles and Miles of No-Man’s Land by Libba Bray on libbabray.wordpress.com

                That said, the last few months have been much better all things considered.  I’m doing all the good healthy things, and I’ve taken up yoga.  It’s hard to say how much progress has actually been made, but I’ve made progress in my uphill climb.  I have a couple of naughty fictional pieces rolling around and probably about ready for publication.    

The irony of ending on an upbeat, “a stiff upper lip, toeing the party line that we can all get through this if we all keep swimming,” note does not escape me.  Am I a good depressive citizen or what?

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Current Events



                As a warning, this one is not sexy.  It is unrestrained emotional vomit.  Really, I recommend you skip this one.  Come back when the sexy comes back.  

                There has been a complete and total lack of sexy in recent history, and I haven’t had sex in years.  I’m not sure why this is.  

                My last attempt at sexy was a few weeks ago and it was a bad experience all around.  It was a dumb decision and I knew better.  I was lonely and desperate and she was willing.  I wasn’t very attracted to her, physically only a little bit and mentally not at all.  When we got to the bedroom, things started fine, and then when it was time to perform I couldn’t.  She was a poor choice, the mental attraction is too important, and I know that.  Still, it shredded my confidence.  

                I keep thinking that I should write some fiction, but it’s difficult without inspiration.
A couple of years ago I moved abroad to Asia for work, and I just recently changed cities. I’ve found myself unable to make friends in this new place.  I don’t click with my coworkers, not that they are bad people, just we don’t click on a solid friend level.  It’s difficult for me to go out and make friends cold, and, although I’ve tried, I haven’t been successful.  I’ve been extra unsuccessful in the sexy department since I moved abroad.  The social isolation is killing me.  Whenever I start spending too much time alone I get too far inside my own head.  It’s not good for me.  

I’ve battled Depression for much of my life.  Only a few years ago did I realize that’s really what it was.  My friends and family knew long before I did.  In the six months or so before I moved abroad I got some help.  That was very good for me, and things got a lot better.  They stayed better for awhile, and then when I relocated to my new city things started to get worse again.  

                I’ve been reading a lot about Depression and I keep finding references to the ‘black dog’ that follows you around.  That’s as good a description as any I suppose.  I thought that I had leashed it, that it was mostly under control and would stop fucking up my life.  Now, it’s back and stronger than ever.  I don’t know what to do with it.  If I were back in the States I would start going to see somebody again, but that’s not so easy here.  

                Many of the things I usually enjoy have stopped being fulfilling activities.  I’ve lost the motivation to do almost everything.  All tasks seem like an uphill battle, even the easy ones.  Actually, living abroad, most tasks really are an uphill battle; it’s just that the hill has recently seemed steeper.  Exercise and cold showers give me a little jolt of good cheer, for lack of a better word, but it disappears quickly.  Most days I start out feeling good, sleep, exercise, and a shower putting me in a good place, but then by the end of the day it’s hard to hold it all together.  

                Most days it’s all I can do to get up, go to work, do a decent job while I’m there, and then resist the urge to drink myself stupid every night when I get home.  That pretty much uses up all of my available energy and willpower, and that’s on the days that I make it work.  The drinking is the first to go, followed by the quality of my work slipping.       
   
                I’ve been struggling with being sick the last few weeks with a stomach bug.  The doctor told me the last time that I saw him that it is stress related.  That it is likely to continue until I de-stress.  That’s not good news at all.  I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to do that.

                I’ve taken up painting as something to do with my hands.  I’ve long missed doing wood and leatherwork since I moved abroad.  Painting is not quite the same, but I’m enjoying it.  It’s something, but it’s not quite enough.  

                I would assume that the Depression is worse because of the holidays.  I have some time off of work.  Between the stomach trouble and the lack of motivation I couldn’t quite get it together to leave town and go somewhere new for a few days.  At this point it’s kind’ve a downward cycle and I don’t know what to do to break it and start going upwards again.    

Thursday, July 25, 2013

A First Time



This is a fictional piece that I was inspired to write. 



 
He caught a whiff of the slightly acrid scent from the cork.  He twisted the cork off the corkscrew, set them both down, and picked up the wine bottle.  He poured two glasses watching the deep burgundy liquid splash around the glass, watched the wine waves slide slowly back down the sides.  He could feel his heart beating faster, and he inhaled deeply the scent of the wine mixing with something else intoxicating.  He picked up the two wine glasses are turned around to face the bed and looked at her sitting there.  She took the offered wine glass and looked up to him.  

                “To the best things in life.”  

                The wine hit his tongue and he felt himself falling into her dark brown eyes.  It was still a little unbelievable for him that she was really here.  He let the intensity of what he was feeling leak into his eyes, desire and hunger, barely restrained behind his eyes.  He knew she could see it, her shoulders shifted and her eyes changed. 

                He took a sip from the glass and then put it aside, sitting down next to her.  They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before he leaned and slipped his hand behind her head, fingers sliding through her dark hair.  He could feel her hair between his fingers, and the warmth of her neck; he could smell her flowery, not-quite-familiar scent.  Their lips brushed softly together, and then apart; a soft pressure from his hand drew her forward and their lips met again.

                He felt the hunger and desire swirling, his own and hers, mixing at their lips.  They held the kiss, lips still brushing softly, but almost imperceptibly getting harder.  He held back, and he could feel her holding back, each savoring the moment, letting the tension build.  He knew it wouldn’t last much longer, one of them would break, and it would probably be him.  His fingers tightened in her hair and he felt her body shifting and melting into his.  Her lips pushed insistently and he felt her breasts pressing into his chest.  

                Their kiss became more and more urgent, their lips pressing harder and his hands roaming across her back on top of her shirt.  His fingertips brushed the outline of her bra and he pressed hard enough for her to know what he was thinking about.  When his fingers scratched across her back her mouth opened in a sigh and his tongue slipped across her lips.    

                He could feel the hunger in her mouth and the heat in her kiss.  He slid his hand down her back to find the hem of her shirt; he lifted it enough to trace the smooth skin of her back with his fingers.  Back and forth across the small of her back, he discovered the strip of skin between her jeans and blouse.

                Her hands explored his chest and back, her tongue and lips insistent on his, but waiting, he could feel her waiting for something.  He used the hand still tangled in her hair to pull them apart, and he looked into her eyes, seeing flushed cheeks and hunger in her eyes.  He smiled and used his grip to arch her neck slightly and held her gaze while he lowered his mouth to her neck.  His lips brushed the boundary between the neckline of her blouse and he laid a trail of kisses up to her jaw and slowly across to her earlobe.  Her breathing quickened with every kiss and when his lips reached her earlobe she gasped, and he felt the shiver run through her body.  He sucked hard on her earlobe and whispered,

                “I can’t tell you how much I wanted this.  I want to taste every inch of you.”

               She pressed herself into him and his lips found her mouth again and it swept them away.  Her hands were insistent, and he let go of her hair for the first time to find the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head.  It slipped off, and her arms came back down to wrap around him.  He slipped his hand behind her head again and slowly lowered her down onto the bed. 

                His lips pressed her head back onto the bed and her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt.  He pulled back to let her finish with the buttons, and sat up to take off the shirt when she finished with the last button.  He watched her eyes taking him in as the shirt came off.  He enjoyed her eyes sliding over his shoulders and arms, and he could hear a sound of enjoyment as she looked.  His eyes wandered down from her dark eyes down the straps of her black bra, the slight curves of her breasts moving with her breath.  His eyes roved down the pale skin of her stomach down to where he could see a hint of matching black panties above her jeans.  She let him look, seeing the lust in his eyes.

                He let his fingers explore first, enjoying the thought that after a moment his mouth could explore everything again.  Fingertips slid down her ribcage and across her stomach, teasing the edge of her panties, finding the hollow of her hipbone.  He held her gaze when the fingertips slid upwards between her breasts, finding her collarbone.  When he leaned down again her fingers reached up to his chest and that first touch of her fingers on his bare skin was more than he could have hoped.  

                His mouth touched hers again and he let his hands explore completely.  Her hands tangled in his hair, caressed his chest, his back and across his slacks.  He took one of her hands and stretched it up above her head, tracing his fingers downward from the tips of her fingers, pausing at her wrist, making it slow and teasing, again at the inside of her elbow, all the way down to her hips, teasing the sensitive little hollow.  

                When he could hold back no longer he pulled his lips away from his and moved it to her collarbone, finally letting his mouth explore.  His tongue reached out and caressed her collarbone and her nails dug into his back in response.  He traveled down to her stomach, planting kisses all around her pale skin, letting his stubble scrape her gently.  His mouth moved up again and when his lips hit the edge of her bra he pulled back, pulling her up with him.  One hand held her upright and the other reached around to her bra, lowering her back down as the bra slipped off her shoulders.  She could hear a low sound in his throat when he looked at her.  His eyes drank her in, moving down from her eyes and dark hair, to her petite breasts, and brown nipples.  He held her eyes until his lips captured her nipple, his tongue swirling around the tip and feeling it harden.  Then his lips found the other nipple, his fingers replacing his lips.  He was rougher, more insistent, his hunger bleeding through more and more.  One was hand on her hip, straddling the edge of her jeans and bare skin.  She writhed under his fingers and lips, rising up to meet him and digging her nails into his back.  Her lips pressed hard on his mouth and her tongue found his.  

                Then she pulled back and smirked, shoving him hard on the shoulders and pushing him down on his back.  She flipped one leg over his hips and straddled him.  He felt himself growing harder, pressing hard against his slacks.  She trailed her hands down his torso, tracing his nipples and tugging on his chest hair.  He reached up to caress her nipples and she let him for a moment before taking his wrists in crossing them above his head.  He let her and relaxed back.  Her hips ground gently against his slacks making him groan.  She leaned over and flicked his nipples with her tongue, kissing downwards.  Her tongue found the hollow of his hip and he lasted all of a few seconds with his hands above his head before he couldn’t take it anymore.  He sat up, lifted her and reversed their positions again.  He undid the button of her jeans, holding her hips up to slide them down.  He admired the lacy panties for a moment, noting the wet spot on the front, before they joined the jeans on the floor.  Her fingers fumbled with his belt and a moment later they were both naked.  

                They were lost.  Fingers and tongues exploring, lost in each other.  

                He pushed her gently back on the bed, sliding down between her legs.  

                “Lay back.”

                He spread her legs gently apart, sliding his hands all the way down to her ankles and back up to her thighs.  He gripped her hips and positioned her just how he wanted, taking his time now.  She felt each and every touch.  His tongue flicked out first near her knee, one hand squeezing her other calf.  He planted kisses up one leg, all the way up her thigh, then down to the other knee and up again, a kiss for each hipbone, then on the top of her mound, pressing into the black hair covering her.  He moved slowly between her legs and she felt his breath on the wetness between her legs.  He let her feel only his breath for a few long seconds.

                He took a long lick all the way up the outside of her lips, then the other side.  She wiggled her hips, but he would not be rushed.  Again, first one side, he slid his tongue into the crevices of her outer lips, then the other side. Then, he took another long lick, inside her outer lips, a little flick down the middle, tasting her for the first time.  He gently sucked one of her lips into his mouth, he felt a shudder run through her, and then the other side.  Finally, he pressed his tongue to her and ran it up the full length of her pussy, hitting her clit at the end.  His hard tongue found its way inside her, discovering every inch of her.  She pushed herself onto his tongue.  He licked up again and found her clit, this time lingering, swirling, teasing, tasting.  He went slowly, discovering what she liked, her sounds guiding him.  He felt her climbing towards orgasm.  His tongue swirled and his hands roamed upwards, finding her hips and then encircling her breasts, teasing her nipples.  She arched upwards into his hands and pushed herself harder onto his mouth.  

                He found a rhythm that she liked and stayed there, moving his hands down to massage her mound.  Gently massaging, his tongue swirling, she soared higher and higher.  He held her there and she reached down gripping his hair and pushing his face into her pussy. 

                “Faster,” she said her voice breathy. 

                He swirled his tongue faster and her hips responded.  Her breath came quicker and quicker.  Then a little moan with each breath.  His tongue continued relentlessly.  Her legs clenched around him and she came.  He listened the frenzied sounds she made when she let herself go, letting his tongue continue until she finished.  He sat back and looked at her, her chest was heaving and her cheeks were flushed.  

                He scooted up and leaned down to kiss her, and her mouth responded.  He ran his hands up and down her body as she came down from the orgasm.  A few moments passed like this and she opened her eyes and her hands found his cock.

                She smiled at him and sat up pushing him back.  He watched her in anticipation.  Her fingers caressed his balls and she prolonged the moment before lowering her mouth to his cock.  It took only a few seconds for him to be completely hard again.  

                He watched her head going up and down on his cock, her long black hair masking her face.  He reached down and brushed her hair back and she looked up into her eyes, continuing to move up and down.  He reveled in the sight, and the lovely feeling of her tongue.  He lay back for only a few minutes, he didn’t want to cum like this, not this time.  He pulled her back gently and repositioned them so that she was on her back head resting on the pillow.  

                He moved slowly, savoring the moment.  She laid back watching him move over her.  He took in the sight of her black hair framing her face against the white of the sheets, dark eyes, and beautiful lips.  He saw the vulnerable curves of her collarbone, swells of her breasts, pale flesh moving up to hard brown tips, pale plane of her stomach, sharp hollows of her hips.  His eyes slid down to the black hair covering the intimate curves between her legs, glistening with her arousal.  He parted her legs, sliding his hands up from her knees.  He moved forward on his knees, positioning himself between her legs.  He leaned forward putting one hand on either side of her locking eyes.  He leaned down and brushed her lips gently and pulled back.  

                He put one hand on his cock, teasing her wet entrance, sliding his head up and down, watching her eyes, feeling her hips rise as he did it.  He slid himself inside her just a tiny bit and put his hand back beside her.  He stared into her eyes and slowly slid inside her an inch.  He pulled back, playing with that first inch, never taking his eyes off of hers.  Her mouth was open, breath coming in little gasps.  He leaned forward a bit and slowly slid all the way inside of her.  He felt her surrounding him, hips pulling him in, and she gasped, finally closing her eyes and then opening them again.  He stayed inside her, playing with the last inch until he could restrain himself no longer.  

                They lost track of everything else and the rhythm swept them away.     

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Delicious Erotic Viewing Entitled “Hysterical Literature”




                I recently found some new and delicious erotic morsels that I thought I would share with you.  I think they came to my attention from someone’s comment on Fetlife.  They are the work of a guy named Clayton Cubitt, and the project is called “Hysterical Literature.”  I can’t get enough of them, they are scrumptious.
                The picture comes up on a woman sitting at a white table in front of a black background.  She introduces herself and the name of what she will be reading.  Then, she begins reading.    It starts off completely normal, any book reading, there’s nothing unusual, no nudity, nothing out of the ordinary.  As time goes on we notice he breathing quicken, a hitch in her voice; we see her struggling to keep her composure, sometimes stopping a moment to gather herself, and then continuing to read.  The struggle gets more and more prominent throughout the video.  Until, finally, she stops reading altogether and an orgasm overtakes her.  When she is composed again she introduces herself and her book again and the video goes black. 
                The part that we don’t see is the ‘assistant’ under the table with a magic wand working the woman slowly towards orgasm.  The women are just instructed to read until they can’t. 
                There are so many things that I love about this video series.  To start with perhaps the most obvious, one of my favorite things in the world is watching a woman cum.  That alone is enough reason to love these videos.  The act of watching a woman orgasm like this is erotically voyeuristic.
                Besides that, I like the concept, and the way these women do it.  My interpretation of the concept is that it’s about control, a predicament, and delighting in orgasms.  The women are in control of the predicament, they read for as long or as short as they want, or that they can.  Some of them struggle more, to keep reading as long as possible, the words and sentences getting more and more strained.  Others read for only a few minutes before letting the orgasm wash over them.  I love naughty predicaments (that’s probably more than clear by now if you’ve been reading my blog), and some of the best are when the ‘victim’ is fighting against themselves.  For some of them the orgasm has a long and clear build up, lots of obvious arousal and struggle to continue reading, leading them inexorably towards giving in.  For others there are only a few outward signs until they put the book down and orgasm.  Some of them are loud, others quiet, some shyer, some maintaining eye contact with the camera.
                I like that the videos delight in women cumming.  The women themselves, putting on a little exhibitionist show and loving it.  For most of them it’s clear that they are enjoying the act itself, the predicament, and thoroughly enjoyed the orgasm.  It takes some vulnerability to orgasm, for everyone, but sometimes I feel like even more so for women.  These women are putting themselves out there on display, glorying in their pleasure.  Not putting their physical bodies on display, the part that we can see of them is fully clothed, but exposing that intimate glimpse of them when they let go and orgasm. 

                I highly recommend that you take a look.  It can easily suck you in and you will have watched all of them before you know what happened. 
                His website is http://claytoncubitt.com/hysterical-literature/