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Down the Rabbithole

Musings, stories and poetry as I continue my journey.
1 week ago. Jun 23, 2022, 2:39 AM

 

It’s a room. No more than fifteen feet by fifteen feet.

Live in here for more than a day, an afternoon, and my skin

would crawl, everything in me clamouring to escape its

confines. But right now, this moment, it’s cavernous

white walls stretch away and away into endless space

and I’m at the centre, so small. You’re over there, ten feet

and ten miles away. Eyes not on mine, but on me. I feel

at the centre of the universe, and I hate it.

 

Fast forward several endless seconds. Ten feet becomes

ten inches. No inches. A hand in my hair, a mouth on mine.

Can’t breathe but there’s air in the room again. On the

bed, tossed there. Flipped over. Crisp white covers for me to

hold on to, fingers curling into their softness as a hand under my

hips hauls me up, ass in the air. There’s an instant of

anticipation then a crack, a sting. A fire. Sparks all over until

it coalesces into a burn. My thoughts slither down.

 

Then up again. Off the bed and onto my knees. Dizzy,

But there’s a cock in front of my face. Take it. Lick, suck,

kiss. Swallow till the gag reflex kicks in. A moment’s respite

to push it back, then again. Hand on my head, pushing,

guiding. Don’t think, do. My thoughts scatter. Move.

Get up, back on the bed. On my back, knees shoved up till

they’re almost by my head. The pressure uncomfortable but

it keeps my mind there, not on the blank white ceiling above

 

My head as a mouth delves between my legs. Heat there,

Licking, flicking. A tongue tip circling round my core. But the

endless space above my head looms and I feel exposed. The

flame flickers and dies. Can’t, not like this. You rescue me,

face flooding my field of vision, lips and tongue on mine till

I’m swallowing the essence of myself. We move to the chair.

Unyielding hands guide me until I sink down onto you. Rise

and fall, grind back and forth. The space, the white air,

 

It threatens to overwhelm me again, but my hands are claws,

talons digging into your chest and your eyes are there,

waiting to imprison mine if I dare. Better. I’m captured,

and then a buzzing, filling in the empty spaces between my

ragged breaths. A bullet vibe, directly on my clit as I rock.

The banked embers surge forward and with them comes

relief. A tidal wave of it, sweeping over me with my

orgasm. And yours. I fold forwards and arms hold me together.

 

Up again, out of the room with the big empty spaces,

in the shower where hot water cascades down and

embraces me. Like you do. Hands firm and confident

as they wash away sweat and sting, slickness and sex.

You press me against the tile, the cold at my front and

your heat at my back solid and comforting. A kiss on

my neck the ghost of moments ago. The towel precedes

my clothes, concealing me again. Time to go.

1 week ago. Jun 21, 2022, 8:10 PM

It’s the quiet. The peace that comes

from being able to just wait. Anticipate.

Inspection pose, your spine straight, your chin up.

Breathe. Be elegant, disciplined. Patient.

No thoughts to tangle up your mind, no

pressure to guide the way, lead the dance.

Shrug off the mantle of responsibility. Gift yourself

to hands that will catch you. Mold you. Torment

you. Listen and obey, safe in the knowledge that

no harm will come to you. Just blissful pain.

Exquisite stimulation. Let go the reins you hold

tight in your mind and open yourself to feel.

Endure. Experience. Allow yourself to be brought

to the brink. To tears. To gasping breaths and

sweat beading on your forehead. Your lower back.

Go to places that seem as if they may swallow you

hole. Surrender. Fall. Know that gentle hands will

bring you back. And that, for a moment, there will

be quiet.