Sorry it's been a while since the last thought provocation, strange happenings have been afoot.
For this inatallment i am going to write about something very dear to me, and i want everyone who reads it to hold as open a mind as they can for both sides of the exchange. Today i am going to discuss the love of blood.
Is it already offputting? Does the mind recoil of horror? I understand the hesitation of the many. Some fear disease, cutting relapse, needles or knives in general, and others have a vasovagal response causing vomiting and loss of consciousness.
I just want to ask this in return. How well could you enjoy a horror movie without blood? How about a video game? Blood has been a prevalent motivator and visual reward for thousands of years. From the pits of anchient Rome, sheets lovers hung proudly in public in Italy, countless works of art, and the science of humanity all revel in blood and what it offers.
I am going to humanize the sharing of blood as well as i can with a story of my own. The story of the first time i gave my blood to the most beautiful woman i ever laid sight on it person.
The lead up to the even included the sharing of information on kinks, tolerances, and the absence of disease. Which should always be the case in these situations.
After our usual hellos, welcome hugs, and dreamy eyed stares we conviened to the living room for a drink. God i can still smell her, i remember everything about it. Her clothes, ass length hair, that smile, and those eyes, backlight green like the lightning from Frankenstein's lab. We gathered our tools: alcohol, cotton swabs, and a razor blade. The excitement in both of us was palpable, our skin seemed to vibrate. That last tender moment before two soon the be lovers gaze into eachothers eyes before the final plunge. The chorus of no one knows by qotsa plays as the razor unearths the contents she hungered for. The cut is clean and even, she knows what she is doing. The scar will be one of many, joining a plethora of its brethren from knife training, as well as the tattoos and unfortunate cigarette burns. The pain is nothing, but the joy and pleasure of this new type of connection was astouning. Then her lips met my skin, so soft and insistent, her scent intensifying. Her body so close as she drinks from the shallow below my collar bone. I pat and rub her head while she drinks. After she has her fill and sits up straight in a very delicious manner pressing against my erection. Her mouth falls open still half full with blood and a vacant satisfied look on her face. As my blood dribbles from her lips i cant help it anymore, i surge upward and capture her lips for the first time. These kisses were filled with an intensity, longing, and care im not sure if ill ever feel again. I wont share what happened next, thats just for the two people who were there.
If you made it this far i am impressed, this was a bit longer than i intended, lol.
This story hurts for me to tell, but i am already a bit depressed and the reliving of a golden age didn't hurt as much as i would otherwise. In the end i feel a lot like Lestat from "interview with a vampire". "Eternity seems like a good idea at the time, until you realize you are going to spend it alone." Now i am one who likes to give and recieve blood, but a small mistake cost me a lifetime of happiness.
I just hope this introduces some who never considered, to the idea that blood can help make a very beautiful and lasting memory and experience.
