Is it me?

Ok, I know I've been through this subject before, but truly: I dunno whether I get mad or sad about the behaviour of some people I used to actually take as friends, good friends even. To begin with, Facebook fold out a completely new side of some persons I used to think I knew. It's admirable to notice how much you can find out about some dudes just observing what they like or share, even without commenting a word.
But this guy drove me out of limits:  it´s been some time that he's been commenting and liking my stuff, okay, but never sent an inbox before. It's one of the mates from the old times who I used to have on high account, even because he always treated me politely. Well, this guy sent me an inbox message while I was actually working at the office. I usually leave my facebook open to check out and interact every now and then, but hardly keep on inbox conversations during worktime. He is married and have a little kid, and started the conversation asking me how I was doing, since he knew my marriage was broken and stuff, and then he started telling me about how his marriage was going wrong.

I thought the guy was in need to open up, have some friendly counseling or something like it, so I gave him my professional skype id, so I could give him a little more attention without completely loose my working focus.


Then, he started insisting about having a conference, I said I couldn't, I was working, and kept on the conversation about marriage. He started then telling me how many times he cheated on his wife to have sex with teenage girls, and worse - he actually was blaming it on his wife, for "she doesn't give him sex enough, and a girl who denies sex for so long is asking for that". I dunno how I still dared to ask for how long. He said "two weeks".

It may be only my opinion, but I don't think anything justifies cheating, but a fail of the cheater - it can be weakness, opportunity, a vulnerable moment, a love unexpected, too much drugs in the brains or even pure simple mischievousness  (or douchebagging). Still, it can't be the other's fault. Not even if the other cheated first: break it or forgive it, but to fight fire with fire still says more about you than about him / her.

Anyway, things got worse: the guy asked me for my phone number and invited me to have a beer sometime. I thanked politely and didn't lie when I said I haven't been finding time even to drink water properly. And the idiot said "Uh, no need to be scared, I won't try to force you to have sex with me or anything". I said  "Glad to know." and he said "You will give yourself voluntarily". I wrote that I doubted that, for I was taken, and he said I wouldn't be able to resist him.

Truly, even if he wasn't the butt ugly married bastard that he is, my answer wouldn't be no different: "Baby, I'm sorry, but I'm faithful to my feelings and my principles, and if I say I consider myself taken, it's because I have found the best lover in this world for me and it's not a matter of resistance, but of choice."
Happened next is that HE became pretty offended and said "Gee, I don't even know why you gave me your contacts, then. I'm outta here, I'm wasting time."

Really. What do fuckers like this  thinks I am? I which moment of my life I gave room to be taken as such a bitch that would take this kind of proposal? I like sex, I looove sex and I am not ashamed of say so, but I missed the point where it gives anyone the right of disrespect me or anyone else because of it. Okay, it's not as I had never went out with a guy who had a girlfriend - GIRLFRIEND, not a wife and kids - and if it's any excuse at all, I was really in love. And even then, I don't think I'd be able  to keep any good feelings for a guy who thinks it´s well done to cheat because his girl don't gives him sex for two weeks when conversation, breaking up, a clear warning, maybe even a fight could be a better way.


I dunno. It's just me. Who am I to judge this guy for what he does to his own life. What I am really pissed about is his attitude concerning me. Besides, I'm truly amazed how vain he could be. "I wouldn't resist"...*lol*. I bet his dick is tinier than his brains.

And I know what I'm worthy of.

And this is the much this matter will have from me. 'nuff said.

Indecent philosophy

"Life sucks. But I bet I can do it better."

On a second thought...

...I'm a bit embarrassed of what I did last night. I mean, the pictures. And I don't even have the excuse of being drunk or anything. Me and my impulsive outbursts..!

Well, too late for that.

Picture it

I did something nasty today.

I was in the front of the bathroom mirror, finishing my make up. Still naked, as I had just left from the shower. When the weather is hot like now, it's pleasant to feel the wet skin drying naturally. I was scented and even had my shoes on already. I always leave the outfit for last, so I won't have any accidents with make up or unwanted wrinkles on my clothes...
I was thinking if there was any way for me to wear my scarf as a blouse. I always think it would look nice, but way too vulgar, so I was trying to find a way to tie that up as a blouse without getting whorish - looks. But in fact, I was only finding out even more indecent ways to wear it. One of them was truly a pearl: made my boobs and my nipples look bigger.
Really, that was very, very cheap. I was looking like a slut, but that sure was nice, I felt sexy. I wanted him to see me like that.
Why not to take a picture and send him? Yeah, right. Quite a ladylike behaviour. Then, who would cry for me when he starts really believing I'm a tramp. On the other hand, he never complaint about my sexual behaviour. And there was a chance that he likes the pictures and can use as inspiration in some lonely moment, to remember there is at least one girl in this world that would sure give everything to share some hard romancing - and everything in between, before and after.

Oh, how I wish I could fall asleep wasted on that adorable arms, and wake him up with a morning blowjob..!

From a distance

All Souls Day's eve. As always, part of the people of this city went to celebrate life  at the beach or countryside, other part is getting drunk at bars and discos, some prefered to go out to dinner and movies with dates , family or friends.
To me it's just another boring night by myself: everybody's sleeping already, as I struggle to finish another chapter of my novel. Tired of editing that pile of drafts and loose notes, I decide to take a moment of bliss by lighting up a cigarette and checking out my social networks. I can't help a smile to notice that even virtually, my social life sucks: nothing happening that it's worth to share, like or comment. My cigarette ending, I'm most likely to shut the computer and go to sleep, since there's nothing better to do...


"Whazzup, babe?" - he's asking me by the messenger, two seconds after my cigarette ends.
"Nothing. Just bored." - I answered, sincerely. But before sending the message, I erased that and wrote : "I'm watching some dirty porn".
"Good for you" - he answered. And as if he said nothing on the following  minutes, I teased: "Don't you wanna know what they are doing?"
"No." - he wrote. - "I'm more interest in what you might be doing when watching it..."
I leaned back and took a deep breathe. The big fish had bitten, and only knowing he was interested already made me aroused. Before I could notice, my hands were already caressing my breasts: I could feel it getting hotter and plump. I released them from the tight bra cups, and the cold night contrast made my nipples immediately harder.
"I'm touching myself". - I wrote. "Where?" - He asked.

My breasts. I wish you could suck it hard right now, I'd feed you as a baby while I close my eyes to enjoy the exploring movements of your hands in between my legs. My tiny little fingers are not comparative to yours, but a touch of my spicy imagination can bring you here to me.

"Go on..."

I can feel my panties getting wet. I can see the white lace get stained. I'll dip my finger in the deepest I wanted to feel yours and then suck it as a promise to what I´ll do to your hard hot cock. Tasting my pussy I crave for you to eat. Tell me more about your fantasies and desires. How bad you want to give me in the ass - a dirty bedtime story. I can't hold on anymore, I slowly slide my panties down my legs, feeling the lace softly brushing my skin.

"Ok, I have my panties off now..."

I spread my legs just to feel that pleasant expectation. There's something exciting in feeling totally vulnerable, as if you or anyone else could enter the room right now and violate me. My easy position as a moist invitation as I lead both hands to my cunt, rubbing it smoothly, letting my long nails touch my clit for a brief second. it's hard and swollen, waiting for your deep kiss I can only imagine now.

"I'd suck you so hard..!"

I threw my head back and opened my mouth a little, playing with my tongue on my lips as if I could taste your head, the moisted tip, a lustful treat. I close my eyes - I can really feel you here, your hand touching my face as I lick and suck you deep...

"Show me what you've got..."

I put a leg up to the armchair, the other one down, wide open. My tongue and lips still feast on your great dick as I feel my moisted pussy drooling, my clit pulsating, begging for being touched, the contractions are now involuntary and hard as spasms. I spreaded my cunt's lips with one hand while stroking it with the other. soft and fast as butterfly wings, as I let two fingers shallowly in and out. I feel the juice dripping to my asshole and moaned.
"You can sit on my lap."- and it was totally my fantasy begging for that. The image of him sitting on that very chair as I guided his cock straight to my ass played in my head as the hardcore porn movie I pretended to be watching. All filled up I was riding him while he squeezed my boobs with one hand and raped my pussy with the other, biting my neck and my ear, teasing me with dirty words and sexy purrs. I finger myself to the limit, and when I feel it coming, I shove one finger to my asshole. I 'm shaking, my tits are bouncing, one touch and I am to explode.

"Do you like it..?"

It was the memory of your voice that triggered that hurricane it in a way I couldn't avoid anymore. I had to cover my own mouth to suffocate a scream that my throat couldn't hold back. I was cumming and squirting and the feeling of the moist coming out only drove me even crazier. I had to bite my hands not to wake up the whole neighbourhood. About no less than ten seconds later, I felt like a mermaid hit by a transatlantic. And it took me a whole lot of minutes until my heartbeat was stabilized and I could open my eyes to read your most recent inbox message

"...are you still there?"

Yes, I am, my love. And, believe me, so were you.

Mothernity

Oookay... This was a freaking tuesday. This morning, when my father left me in front of the office, as he does everyday, he said: "There's something different here." And I looked around and said "No, everything is the same". And he "No, no, there is anything different here... maybe it's the door..." Well, I didn't mind what he was saying, and didn't notice anything different anyway. Me and my friend we work at the same place, and our building is the most far away from the Office Park entrance. There is no way you can see our building entrance from the front of the condominium, it's about 100 meters away and in a higher level than the street. Anyway, when we arrived at our building's front desk, they were actually installing new doors there...We immediately glanced at each other and agreed that was #creepy.

Last night I actually slept well and woke up happy, for I met Mr.Red* in my dreams. We were together again and incredibly happy, I couldn't stop touching and staring at him, just to be sure that was real. In my dreams he was with me in my room - I mean, it was my room, at my house, but it wasn't really the place where I actually live...-well, you know, this freakin' things that happens when we´re dreaming.- And there was a beige moth flying all over my room. I don't like moths, I'm actually very afraid of them, but in my dream I didn't care, totally enchanted by his presence, I even took that as a good sign or something. Woke up happy indeed...

A moth like this...

Unfortunately, after arriving at the office I had the stupid idea of researching the net to know what does it mean to dream about moths...Well, I didn't like what I got. I know it's stupid - and I'm so stupid that I actually went to confirm that with the Online Magic 8 Ball .Only to get even more disappointed...


What a hell am I talking about anyway...dreams and Magic 8 balls...

* By the way, after all this "50 Shades of Grey" fever and this "Mr. Gray" stuff, I'm starting to feel embarassing of refering to my lover as "Mr. Red". I started this long before I even know about that stupid book, but now I just can't stand the thought of people thinking my erotic adventures with Mr. Red are in fact some lousy non-creative version of a vulgarly popular bestseller. So, I'm starting to think about a new name to give him. Something that actually fits him better - and definitely not starting with a "Mr.".Suggestions accepted.

Not that I will bother to think about it right now...It's past midnight and I need to get some sleep before I turn into a pumpkin.

Happy Halloween!

Under her light

So, the moon is full again. At the end of the work day, I went out for a smoke and saw that huge red ball in the sky that mesmerized me for a long time - I couldn't take my eyes out of her and that was the magical moment of my monday. Needless to say what came to my mind by then, but that sure raised my spirit higher a bit.
I can feel the winds of change blowing stronger into my life. Yesterday I printed the first 40 pages of my masterpiece - well, at least the first part of the drafts of what shall be my first novel to reach out of the drawers. Of course I think it's shit, but I pooped it myself, so even if I never get to turn it on a bestseller, at least I'll know a piece of me will live forever through my stories. The best part of me, probably. Yeah, I know, I'm not big deal.

I also started considering some big decisions that shall take place on a nearby future. I am seeing things clearer now, this makes me feel safer. And warm hearted.

Maybe it's time to follow the lucky rune.

What now..?

One thing that makes me kinda anxious about life is this impression - no, this certainty - that we can never be really sure about anything. There is no definitive oracle, and no one we can ask for directions when taking the most important decisions.
I use to say, though, life get easier when you learn to read the "signs". Problem is that even interpretating this signs - when you get to recognize a sign at all - is anything but easy. To be sincere, I only really recognize it after some time. When the real deal is going on, I usually question myself about whether I should take that  importantly or not. And way ahead, if it was really meaningful, a bell will ring.
How useful it is, huh..?
Still it is what keeps me going on with a lil' bit of hope ahead. If such colorful moments did happen in the past, it's not completely impossible that it will happen in the future.

The other day I was telling a co worker and friend some of the amazing things that happened in my life. She commented " That´s scary..!", but in fact I think she thought I was lying. I dunno myself why I sometimes still engage in telling people these stories.  Maybe it's my karma: a storyteller who can not tell her own story. They'll say one "Forrest Gump" is enough.

It's not my fault. It's my life.

A whole lotta nothing

Ah, I love saturday nights. Even when there's nothing interesting going on, I know the day next I can stay in bed for as long as I want. I'm that kind of person who doesn't bother to wake up early if there's anything nice to do- which doesn't include working at all - but I'm not a morning person by nature. As I was some day in the past talking to Mr. Red : nothing interesting seems to happen in mornings.

It's half past midnight now, I'm at home, in bed, in my nighties. I went earlier to my cousin's baby's first birthday and I ate way more than I should. And I am childlike in this matter: just can't sleep when full of sugar. After all that candy, cake and ice cream, still no sign of sleep...

On the other hand, I'm emotionally exausted. I went through a rollercoaster of feelings today, most of them hurt me. Fortunately I still have a happy thought to lean on in times like these, but yet it annoys me. You know when life comes to remind you how stupid you can be sometimes? It's not only about feeling like an idiot, it's about knowing you are one. Hopefully was - in a past that will never, ever come back again. Today I know my value and the price of trading what I want for what is simply easy to get. In the end it´s not easy, and it can be a painful waste of time. So long time.


Regrets, I've got them. Mistakes, I've made some. Still, my gratitude is bigger.
Seems that someone up there is still watching over me...

Sad fact

Tomorrow it doesn't matter whom I vote for
There's no enough mayor to fix this city.

In public

I left earlier from work. Didn't want to go home, for I would have nothing to do there. I felt like having a drink, and though there was no one to come along with me, I didn't give up the idea. Sitting on a bar by myself before 6 pm on a weekday made me feel like an alcoholic, but who would to care, anyway.
I sit at the counter, ordered a Jäger and a beer. Cheers to happier past times, cheers to what is yet to come. There is no one around and I look at the far away tables on the darker corners, dreaming on being sitting there with you, feeling your hot lips in mine as your fingers slid through my panties and into me. I would unzip your jeans and sit on your lap, contracting quietly while I finish my last drink before taking you back to the hotel and have you all over my body. I want to get down to my knees while you stand up and stare me sucking your delicious cock. Cover me with your cum, just for me too feel what its like to be a real creamy bitch.

My mouth strange the beer while your hot flavour full fills my memories and I crave to drink from that temptation again. I bite my lips, have another cold sip. I'm just a lonely girl on a bar, or this is what everyone can see.

They have not the slightest idea of what I'm seeing on my mind...

Keeping it

Whether I like it or not, I must recognize one true fact: The biggest changes comes to my life when I reach the bottom of my patience and the end of my hopes. Sometimes this happens because I'm pissed off enough to thunder and shake the grounds of my existence. Sometimes salvation just comes from the sky as blessing. It happened in my life times enough for me to strongly believe it can't be just coincidence anyway. I wrote about this before.
Still, as life goes by, this "bottom" seems to get deeper and deeper. And I have this impression sometimes it's a test to make my patience grow proportionally higher. Some battles I win. Some I fail. But the worse is when I think I win and stand waiting for a reward that never comes. There, I think, lies the real test. And maybe that's what the humans call "faith".

What reminds me...

Eju Orendive*

In centralwestern Brazil there is a people called Guarani Kaiwoá. For centuries they lived on these lands, actually no one nowadays can really precise for how long original indigenous peoples have been living in the brazilian forests. I am for the fact that America was never "discovered": the ancient civilizations that were lightyears ahead of european lifestyle by then were actually robbed and plundered. And this violent colonization sowed a culture that despises their own origins, where everything that comes from outside seems more valuable and worthy than their very own blessings. Great companies and wealthy people, even the government don´t think twice on trading everything for money. And, of course this money never benefits everyone equally.
Now there is all this world buzz about Belo Monte. In case you don't know, Belo Monte is an hydroeletric power plant that is getting built to be the biggest on the planet, and ensure electric energy for south american countries. Problem is that it will ruin natural curses of the rivers, expell indigenous people from their homes, fuck up nature and traditional living, in sum. All this just to make money that, of course, ends up in wrong places. Cattle raisers and big agricultural business also have their great share of guilt in this tragedy. But who gives a crap about natural resources and middle of nowhere villages, if you can buy your place in heaven?

These Guarani Kaiwoá people are tired to fight. They sent a letter to the government department that were supposed to take care of indigenous, saying that they just can't take it anymore. And if the white people want, they can go there with a truck to dig a giant collective grave for the bodies of the 100 adults and 70 children that no longer can go on living like that, having to struggle for the right of staying on their very own land of their ancestors. Because of the speed of the communications and medias, right now the whole Brazil and the world are shocked by the news, and maybe this reactions might change something - at least while the issue is making headlines. But this is definitely is not a recent turbulence: the massacre have been going on for decades in silence, and will go on after people find a more interesting subject such as the last chapter of the soap opera, carnaval or the soccer finals.

* "Come with us", in Kaiowá language.

Where lies true freedom?

When I was a child I thought freedom meant to be free of all rules. Of course by then what I knew as "rules" were bedtime, homework and this kind of stuff we take as big problems before the teen ages. Then after, we think freedom is to have a car, to go out without permission without having a time scheduled to arrive back. And soon we'll find that when you finally get to do it, you'll be spending most of the time of your life tied to your job. It's absurd to me to realize how people live mainly for their jobs. Even if you have money now, you´ll only go on vacation when your job allows. Even if you have kids, you are only free to be a full time mom during the months you are on maternity leave. You spend more time with colleagues you hate than with your family you love, and guess what - this is pretty normal, common and acceptable.
Of course, I am the crazy one, but this just doesn´t make any sense to me. If I work I´ll have money, but what they are buying is actually my life. I am a writer. But I am writing now and you are reading for free: this is not my job or my work, it's my art, no matter how lousy it is, it's the only thing I can do. I'm actually happy that I have at least one talent I can make money on, without loosing my kid's custody...

Here, translating my thoughts, I'm really free. I can strip off soul-naked to you all, I can have my lover anytime I desire, I can tell you openly how stupid and absurd this society is, I can have sex and music, I can even go to the toilet and make you all aware of it, because fact is that right now I´m nothing more than words. You can't see me or hear the sound of my voice, you don't know my real name, and still, in some aspects you´ll know me better than my own genetic - and this because not everything I write here is actually the raw truth. Some - probably very, very few of you - know it. And that's where my freedom ends, to be bonded by will. I could go way further and open up to things I would probably regret later: I could embarass myself, offend or humiliate people. And these things not always comes rightaway.  I dunno about you but now I'm past 30´s, I have plenty of opportunities to notice how much little things done so long ago can change drastically one's future at some point way ahead.  This is not a moral lesson, it's the plain truth. If you´re too young still to believe, baby, sit, watch and learn.

In the end, we're always chained to something. To society, to our jobs, to our families and the respect we own to our dear ones. Some of us are enslaved by addictions and bad habits, vicious relationships and greed. We are free to make our choices, and condemned to live the consequences of it. Putting it like this sounds even threatening, but in fact it can be pretty rewarding too. We can't have it all: not all the pleasure, nor all the pain. And only knowledge can guide us  through the best options. Even for the ones who only learn from failure, there will always be another opportunity to trail a different path. Even if some bridges are now burnt and you can't go back. After all, forward is the only way to go...Especially when you are lost.

Maybe freedom is the way, not the destination.

Scar of wonders

At dawn he looks for me...

I wake up with his skin on mine, but I don't open my eyes, just feel.
He touches my feet and spills his scented firelike hair on my back, moving his strong hands up on my legs, he spreads it open...
Softly I moan when his lips touch my intimacy, kissing me deeply. His tongue moves inside me while he caresses my hips. A touch that grows stronger by the second, still delicately exploring my body, until he covers me with his weight and glides himself into me. He rubs his face on my neck, licking, kissing, sucking as if about to swallow me whole. His heartbeat gets stronger, as faster as he stocks me. Deeper. Desperately. I can feel him pulsating, rock hard and hot moistured, invading every inch of my body and my soul. I am the female that surrendered, enchanted, hypnotized, inebriated of love under that man supposed to be mine, when the biggest truth about me is that I'm his. He fills me and he feeds me, he's my happiness and lust.

Goddess I became under his sweaty skin.

Sleepless

Just saw one of my latest favourite movies. It's no blockbuster, just something that  happened to be on TV sometime, I watched almost casually, and ended up charmed by the sweet plot and exciting soundtrack. It's a story about friendship, trust, love and music in all its tones and tunes. And it kinda confirms a thought that I try to keep in mind lately: you should not give up on dreaming because of one broken dream. There is always a way for those who are not afraid of hitting the road.

It's a cheerful movie rather than a drama, though it left me little bummed. Not because of the story, but because I miss watching movies with someone by my side, someone I care I can make funny comments, laugh together or hold on to when I feel thrilled. Someone to kiss whenever I feel like kissing, and let the caresses go deeper and further as far as demands my desire, knowing I am exactly where I am supposed to be, on the hands that own me by my own will. Oh, he did say I would never forget him, and now I live everyday trying to figure out what kind of spell he put on me. Intoxicating mix of looks, intelligence, humor and chemistry that runs inside my veins and makes my heart beat faster. And if I'm worth your angry, hate me to death. Punish me, with every single reason you have to do it. Would you put away your dolls to play rough with me? I look like pop and fuck like porn, come closer because we're two of a kind and I know you like my game: You showed me your scars, I showed you mine, but nevermind, forward is the only way to go.

Great...I was supposed to be writing about the movie, not having this romantic delusion.
Told ya: I must get laid or I'll end up in a straight jacket.

This could be heaven. Or haven. Or raven. I'm not too sure.

Finally weekend. Just got home, took a shower, clothes off, TV on. "The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy". What a Friday night, huh?
I'm starting to get used to be lonely. I'm afraid I'm starting to get used to be empty aswell. Not enough to give up, but still I don't feel like I'm living the summer of my life. Anymore. But hey, maybe that makes some sense: it can't be summer forever, can it? I wish...

In a way, this endless dreaming keeps me inspired. I'd say like Rapunzel on the tower, like Ariel on the stone, but truly: I gave up fairytales for good. This time not because I think romantism is dead, but because I truly understood that real life is really better. Never saw a fairytale prince who makes the princess laugh as much as I love when he makes me laugh. Never saw a fairytale prince who had a really charming looks: they always seems to have a padronized beauty, which I despise. I value unique beauties. People that has something, some detail I won't ever find in anyone else. I cherish the special, and I know my love is no ordinary love. At least I'm sure it´s far beyond what today people seem to understand as love: some selfish, reserved feeling to which is more important to keep it reasonable, to keep it "real". People actually are keeping themselves from love actually. Don't you fall for this bullshit, that love hurts. It's fear that does it.


Maybe I'm just being ridiculous, but I'm missing nothing in keep on dreaming, in feeding my hopes on the silvery memories I have from moments when I was truly happy. It's not that the world was perfect, it's not that all my troubles in life were gone: but truly, I know how good life can be - maybe it can't get any better than that, but I wouldn't be expecting anything else while I'm alive and subjected to cold and hunger. If I´m condemned to cry every now and then, I just wouldn't want to cry over missing him anymore...
Am I expecting too much? I am not expecting anything. I don't expect. I hope.

And wait.

By the way, I´am fully aware that this blog is becoming terrible boring and sweet. Problem is that lately I only have time to write it in the end of the night, when I´m usually lonely and romantic, so I end up throwing this up here. I´ve been bit tired of the erotic stories: it's sometimes frustrating to keep my mind this hot, and my body that cold.

It will explode at some point, though. Soon.

Mr. Red never fails.

There's a song I can't get out of my head...

...and today I know it will be playing louder.

Yes, I'm this silly. But can't help it, it's just me.
 And my overwhelming feelings.

Let the days go...

Wednesday feels like monday. Maybe because of the hangover I had the whole day. I went to sleep last night, or better saying, this morning, with a major headache. Slept for three hours or so, and woke up with that feeling of empty head I hate. Well done to me, shouldn't drink one sip of alcohol with an empty stomach, but last night I happened to accept one dosis or two of whisky before I even remember I hadn´t eaten the whole day. I'm this kind of person who forgets to eat if I'm too busy or doing something interesting. Unfortunately, I was just too busy, though in the great company of a girl friend I hadn't seen in years. I've been meeting a lot of old friends lately. Maybe because it was me who stayed in the limbo for so long...

In the end of the day I was gifted with the sound of the laughs I love so much. It was a moment of bliss among the chaos. I was in hell, but heaven echoed only to me through my earphones.
At least until the boss came to call me back to the lousy reality of that shitty office...

Contemplating

He's my angel and sometimes he sleeps

Misses the point, misses me

He lost his wings and sometimes he cries

Alone he hides for no one to see

My little angel, you are so big

What do you want?

What do you seek?

What do you do in this crazy world

And for how long will I have you here..?

Unmissable update!

This weekend I spent mostly at home. The gates of the house decided to break and we were actually captive in here, since in this country it would be too much to ask for someone to fix the damn gate asap. At least I had a lot of exercise climbing the walls in and out to buy groceries. And I bet the neighbours had their bunch of fun aswell, for I never got in or out right in the first attempt. Well, tomorrow I'll go to work with arms and legs covered in bruises, and if it anyone notices I´ll just say I spent my holiday on a BDSM camp. I wanted to enjoy the Children's Day discount.

I tried to work a bit on a side project opportunity that came to my life a few days before, but it seems I'm not too inspired. Or rather I am, but it somehow came completely different than it was supposed to. I know myself, it's useless to force it. So I'm off to play some tic tac toe with Pikku Myy until her grandfather fall asleep, so we can take the car out for some wild sunday ride. Yes, I know it´s ridiculous. Yes I have a licence. And a very overcaring father too.

But I'm -a -do anything to get rid of this early symptoms of monday...

This depraved truth

Yesterday we celebrated Kid´s Day at a reunion of friends I love so much. In times like these I always  get thankful for the few, lovely trustful ones fate had put in my way.
But sometimes I feel misplaced. After all, my best friends are married. Today, I don't feel like I belong to the singles, nor to the married team. I'm a mom and this gives me some roots and responsabilities, also a kind of safety feelings. Though I know we raise kids to the world, and not to ourselves, having a daughter keeps me from feeling too lonely.

Yes, I do confess I have this so very human fear of growinlg old alone. Dying alone, for more that I had touched people during my life, leaving it with the painful feeling that in the end, I didn't really share my story with anyone. And I will never understand why.

I can come here and write posts and posts of the pussy wetting feelings and thrills I am lucky enough to know from this existance. I can open this up to anyone willing to acess this blog. But I really feel deviant when I'm writing about loving kisses and holding hands. Nowadays it feels indecent to be faithfully in love, to secretly crave for spooning, hair stroking, tickle games and breakfast in bed.  I´m an old fashioned lover, a concubine to please all senses, way beyond sex.
Some years before my marriage ended, my ex husband started to humiliate me by telling me what a waste I was, for not "doing anything". I gave up my professional life to be a housewife and I was very proud of it. Everyday when he arrived home, the house was clean, the laundry was done, the dinner was about to get ready. It wasn´t a paid maid, everything was done with a special care. And he humiliated me because I couldn't find a job.


Well, I guess the fact that after I divorced I never had trouble finding a job- and I actually was making at least double his salary.- Is enough for me not to have a single scar of this humiliation. Actually I did learn a valuable lesson: that I can't care so much about someone to the point of forgetting about everything else including me. I must take care of me to be able to offer my best. I thought I was doing my best, any I thought my best wasn't enough for him. Bullshit. He wasn't deserving of my worse, I was just too blind to see it. And now I see that the same "sense of commitment" that made him keep me for so long also made me keep wasting my efforts in doing my best in exchange.
I'm thankful for the lessons learnt. I'm glad also that the bad experiences actually made me feel more confident about myself and sure about what I want and what I'm looking for. I got to know myself, to valuate me, to valorize me.
The bad experiences on love made me love in a more refined way. Also a more adult and realistic way.

Who would want a fairytale, when your smiles are so real...

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Way to go, me. I'm homedrinking again. I bet you readers are pretty sure of some things now, including that I'm a butt ugly misanthrope and an alcoholic. Here goes some incredible news: I don't give a flying fuck for what you think. None of you have a fucking clue about what it feels to be me. In fact, you don't even know if I exist, and probably it's the only thing we have in common now.

Needless to say I'm in need of a good rough fuck. Been dreaming of making love and I sure will appreciate it in the morning after. Making love is for sober people, and right now I'm loud and wild. Good for me. Not a chance I'll have any physical contact with anybody tonight, but probably this post will have a lot of acesses tomorrow. Usually chapters full of "fuck", "fucking" and pornography are.
And I'm actually happy I found one other girl who didn't like "50 Shades of Gray". I dunno if she decided that before or after she found out that it's actually a fan fiction written on the Twilight saga. You know, this is the only part I think that makes the book noteworthy. I like fan fiction. Most of you don't know it, but I'm a pretty good writer on this myself...


I feel like calling Mr. Red and telling him aaaaaaaaaaaaaall I want to do with him right now. Starting from a karaoke duo, we could bet a race back home, then take a shower with our clothes on, before getting into what you're really interested in knowing about. But I won't open it up for you tonight. Everything that comes to my mind now I'll keep to ourselves, in loving honour of this secret that everyone can see, but don't.

Well, I've been writing a lot here. What is not really healthy for my literary fame, since I have nothing really interesting to post, but pure verborragia. Theraphy, I guess. I spend the whole day writing mechanically at work, that in the evening I feel like writing something at ease, just to remember my life is not just about concrete descriptions of boring stuff. I can still enjoy it. I can still paint my world with the same letters that stresses the hell out of me at the office. And I do love the magic of reading this all some time after, and rescue some memories that once made me smile. The touches that made me shiver. The jokes that made me laugh. I am not smart and scientifical enough to build a time machine, but I can write and read my way back to the good times anytime.

And who would say our game of hide and seek would last forever...

A new dawn

Just opened my eyes. And I want to register it here, before leaving the bed, that today I'm taking a different chance of my life. Just for a change, at least within. Maybe life is not still, afterall: it's me who lost the ground just because for the first time I can't look ahead and see what´s there. I guess I even said that already.
This can be a good thing. And if it's not, I will make it be. And if I can't... well, I'll get screwed, as I would anyway, so it doesn't make much difference.

It's time to set the table for the feast, I'll be serving the leftovers of my hope.

What if...

...you could actually get to know your life's essential mission, and realize that, afterall, it's not as glamorous and heroic as it might sound?

I mean, I guess that it doesn't matter how brilliant your existence is, at some point, at some moment, it must get boring or seem so unbearably difficult. Sorry if I'm offending the true optimists here, but I really don't believe in people that is just so happy all the time about everything. This only exists in Facebook. On friday evenings.

And it's beautiful when we see a movie, a biography, even, about someone or ones that struggled against the worse odds and end up as winners. Or those ones who did not win at the end, but died trying. We cherish the will power of these people, but think again: I bet it wasn't nice to be wearing those shoes all the time. Hard times are hard and shitty to any human. So are this times when time seems to be standing still.

And dumb Hamalka thinks "Yes, it's just a stage, soon it will be over and I can get back to chase my story".

But along comes the little person that knows everything and laughs.

-What are you laughing at? - I ask.
-You, and your megalomaniac thoughts. You're quite a character, you know. One day is suffering a severe lack of self esteem. The day next you're actually sure you mean big deal to this world, to the point of having a "special mission" or something. Girl, you don't have a clue of yourself, do you?

I rolled my eyes. I do respect this guy, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood of trying to decipher his enigmas, which every now and them are just useful for the sole purpose of his own amusement.

-Here, take a look yourself. This is what your so-called fate expects from you.

And I read the oracle that never fails. And I read it again. And again. And backwards and forth, the same unmistakable clear signs.

-You gotta be kidding..!
-Not kidding, nor trolling, not even confusing.
-This? Just this? 
-If you want to put in these terms...yes. - he laughed again. - Too little for your great adventures?
- C'mon...I...I... - I didn't know what to say, so I sighed in redemption - Will I at least be sucessful at it?
-This I don't know, truly. But I can easily bet you're up to die trying.

And as always, I couldn't deny him.

Afterall, the stars doesn't look so bright when you're down to Earth.

No porn, nor news.

I was already expecting my life would get a little bit still and boring after all the twists of fate I've been living in the past months. But really, that's ridiculous. I just can't get rid of the feeling of "Now, what?" that's been haunting me lately. Long term plans are set. Problem is that I *fucking* hate waiting.

Not that it matters, but we had election day in Hamalkaland on sunday. Never in my life it was so difficult to choose among the same old stupid sons of some bitches. And I dunno if politicians are getting worse or if I'm just getting more and more tired. I guess even they are getting tired of the same empty promises. They could get tired of stealing people's money, too. Then we might really have a choice, for a change. And if it was hard enough to pick up one candidate this time, the decisive round in a few weeks will be way worse. I didn't and I wouldn't vote for any of the "finalists". This city may be a piece of shit, but it's the shit I live in. And I don't really think any of them gives a crap about it.

Democracy. Yeah, right.

Terabytes of memory wasted
Burned bits of couldn't care less
Hard disk full of so virtual moments
Lost for a malicious code of distress
What brought us closer is now disconnected
Cannot access the inbox of my fears
Night after night without getting the message through
You're still offline to my tears
Words on a letter are no substitute for skin
A glance on a picture can't reach within
your eyes safe searching my soul
Just to remind me how little I know...

Red nights over the city lights

Everyone expects something from a saturday night, but me. When I was still too young to care, saturday nights were the best, funniest time of the week. Then I grew responsible and religious and saturday nights meant the best, most illuminated moments I lived. Now I'm just fucking lost and the best I expect is a good movie on TV. Or a whole night asleep. If everything works more than fine, maybe I can get some interesting online chatting, especially if he's drunk, lonely and up for some spicy conversations. But I haven't been this lucky.

I'm so haunted by memories that my mind's been working somewhat as a time machine. One thought and I can be back, one step and I can change history. There he is, sitting in the rocking chair, watching something. I came from the bathroom, feeling my body hot and scented, wearing nothing but a towel, but he didn't take his eyes off the screen. So I took the black and white scarf I had left over the bed and approached him from behind. If he wasn't seeing me, he wouldn't see nothing at all.

-What the..? - He was surprised when I quickly blindfolded him with the scarf. Then I got to his front to shut him up with a kiss. Totally undressed, sitting leg spreaded on his lap, I was pressing my whole body against his. I could feel my pussy drooling and guessed the wet stain on his jeans while his big hands grabbed my ass. His hard-on was about to explode his pants, when I let my body slide down and kneeled to his feet, unzipping his cock I was so willing to taste. I couldn't get my eyes of his expression. His eyes were still blocked with the scarf, he throwed his head back and was curling his lips in a delightful expression. Moanings of pleasure were my guide through his favourite movements, and every little sound he made was driving me even more aroused. I took of his pants, spreaded his legs - I was licking and sucking his dick from the head to his asshole, a hot meat popsicle smearing me all over, his taste and his wheezing driving me out of control.


I climbed and sat on his lap, swallowing all that stick with my moisted cunt, I moaned out loud with every inch he was shoving inside me, we were both wet of sweat and sex, and the smell of his skin was indecently pleasant to my wildest female instincts. I needed to copulate with that alpha male, my body was urging to be fulfilled with his hot sperm, and I moved my hips as crazy, up and down to his cock, as languid and hard as a real latina mistress.
His breath was getting shorter as his face was contracting in uncontrolable pleasure expressions. I felt it coming as I moved in a way to make his cock rub exactly where I needed to. He was still grabbing me by my ass, spreading it open and softly touching my pulsating and moist ass. I took the scarf off his face one second before I cum.

-Look at me.

His wide open eyes were glowing. I was looking deep into it and gritting my teeth while I felt the shockwave of the overwhelming orgasm start to take over my body. I wasn't moaning but screaming, by the time he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.His moaning turned into a savage roar when he spurted his hot cum inside me so strong I could feel the pression.

Still connected, feeling the aftershocks, we kissed deeply and embraced in silence, enjoying the sound of our heartbeats in synchrony. Night was finally falling onto that city.
Not this one I see now through the window, where the only shade of red upon me comes from the glimmer of the urban lights.

Wrong from the start

Just woke up. This time I'm sure my dream didn't make me any happy. In fact, it was curious how the worst part of it made me wake up exactly one minute before the alarm clock sound.
Maybe I had these awful dreams because yesterday I went to sleep with my head full of the evil that men do. I had some terrible news, I was very tired of working way too much, I feel somewhat alone and I know I'm pushing away some people who want to be with me. I feel guilty for that, and then I look in the mirror and I notice I'm not that kid anymore, to go on living as if I would never grow old. I won't be beautiful and willful forever, and although I know I still am, sometimes that's exactly the reason for me to fear how much I can still fuck my own future.

By now I'm pretty sure I came to this world to live quite a story. But I'm not sure about happy endings anymore.

Parallel Universe

First, I knew it was a dream because he was driving. But anyway, his presence was strong as reality, the smell, the voice, the smile - better even - that laugh I love  so much. And the touch, the heat. Everything so remarkably solid that it crossed my mind to question it, but then I remember that maybe is reality together that always seems like a dream.

-You don't get it. - he suddenly said at some point, eyes full of tears. - No one does.

And I woke up without knowing if I should be happy or sad.



My thoughts going onto you
Stalking you down through the ways I know
I will find
I love you
But only 
for the rest of my life...

Maybe full of hope

So, october it is. This year is really flying through me. And if it's true the world as we know is coming to an end soon, at least I can say that in despite of all the mess I've been living this days, I have a positive balance of it. In fact, looking back I see that I had more of the better than of the worse. And I'm thankful for every single moment, for all them are connected, and permeated for a love that's bigger than time. I did had it all, and I guess I still do.

Better even, brigther days will come. Even if this means going straight to the apocalypse.

Unveiling fantasies

Masturbation. It's one of the favourite subjects among guys. Even at work I eventually hear jokes about wanking. Not counting the popular references: like when a band or a musician is too much of a virtuosis, so it's "wanking". If someone is left behind on something (especially in getting a girl), he's  "only wanking". and so on. And girls do use these references too: but always concerning guys.
Girls don't talk about masturbation. They don't make jokes about masturbation. Among girls, the hotter and spicier reference we would make to our sexual hunger is "to get wet". We can get wet and we can desire a guy sexually, we can even tell our friends we'd fuck and suck him, but I never ever heard a single female friend admit she'd finger herself for some guy. And I don't mean making a webcam spectacle of it, I mean pure, simple, intimate masturbation. Come on, there might be nothing wrong about it. If it does, then there is something very wrong with me, for I do masturbate a lot. Yes, I have a "dirty mind", yes, I think about sex quite a lot, yes, I have great inspiration for this. and it's obvious that writting about it makes me willing for some relief. Besides, verbal sex is the only modality I've been practicing lately, writing my thoughts or teasing my muse.
Fact is that, as every sexually active people I know , I have a few "fetishes" that I know I will never make real.Even if I had the chance, I wouldn't because I know the "real deal" would never be as comfortable as fantasy.
Like girls, for exemple. I always thought I was bit bissexual, because some girls get me aroused. I can appreciate the sexual appeal of a women's body, I can see a sexy girl and have a thought further the regular "she's pretty". Actually some girls do inspire me naughty thoughts, but I learnt from the experience that actual sex with girls is nothing that satisfies me. I liked to go to whorehouses when I was younger. I dunno why, I already had this strange fascination for sex and girls whose life was all about that. Of course I kept a glamourous vision of this, as if none of that girls were there to have money to feed her kids, to buy medicines for a sick mother or as if all their clients were always desirable, rich and polite guys. "My" prostitutes were all in for the fun, like the Girls of The Playboy Mansion. Though I knew reality cuts deeper.

Sex in public. Another thing that always got a hold on me. I remember a porn I used to like where a couple was playing pool, and at some point they started making out on the table, in the middle of the bar. It was full of people around, some made some comments and stuff, but mainly nobody even seem to care. Ah, only in movies, indeed. First, because probably if a girl submits to a scene like this, she's most likely to end up gangbanged by ten other guys who'd interfere. Second, because I would probably not feel confortable with people staring - and I bet in real life they would stare. And worse: someone might document and spread that. And I do like to be a respectable woman. I need to. I'm a mother, afterall. You might forget this when reading my stuff, but I never do...

When I started my sexual life, I never thought I'd like bondage. I got interested in handcuffs when I got a pair from my friend who owned a sex shop for girls. But fact is that I never got a chance to use it properly, and ended up giving it as a gift to another girl who I knew would had better fun of it.

Now I'm thinking in buying a new pair. Who knows, a whole world of new sensations is yet to come...

About sex, love and bacon.

Again, I'm feeling stressed. Again, comes to my mind the thought I should have some sex: what would sure not solve any of my problems, but at least discharges the inner tension. And I don't even know if this is actually what I need. After my divorce I managed to spend, what, eight months without sex. Gee, I didn't even had a date, a kiss, nothing. And I survived pretty well.
So, I thought after I had some (!!) sex afterall, I would relax and even open up for other partners, but in fact is what happened was the complete opposite of that. I don't even bother thinking of other guys, since I know from experience no one else would give me the thrills as my favourite does. If you read  "The true story of how I became a woman" post, you might think that's why I'm feeling like this, but looking at the background story as a whole, I now think that I should had expected for that. Just that at some point, I was pretty sure it would never happen. As I was pretty sure I would never meet him again. Happily, I was wrong in both cases.


You can have great sex without being in love. You can really enjoy lousy sex, if you are in love. But when you're having great sex with the one you love deeply it's just a mystical experience. Each touch, each part of the skin, each sensation, sound, taste and colour of it is delightful. Every breath is a remarkable moment, and the orgasms are so unforgettable that I remember it all - and when I do, my body reacts. Then, at the same time I'm urging for this and I'm refusing to get frustrated in having his scent off my skin by something that it's not what I'm craving for.
I used to feel pretty naive in saying this. And I was made fun of so many times because of my sexual faithfulness, that I found the ultimate argument: It's like when you are craving for bacon. You know chocolate is good. Chocolate is great, and I can hand you the best piece of chocolate ever, and you may eat and enjoy it, but it won't fulfill your craving for bacon. You can go to the best buffet of the world and get to have as much as you can of the most delicious and diverse foods of the universe, but if they offer anything but bacon, for better than it is, it won't make you satisfied. And even the artificial bacon-flavoured stuff won't help. So, why bother?
Let's pretend I'm on a diet, then. Until I get bacon, or I starve.
Who knows, I might be in need of loosing some pounds.

How to sail a sinking ship

Whoa...what a messy week! Day after day I feel more glad about getting home to my bedroom, my pajamas. You know what people say about "killing one lion a day", this is for the weak: I am slaying dragons.
Just between us, I am not sure for how long I will stay in this job. Actually, sometimes I have this impression the enterprise itself won't last too long. The nature of it is already disposable from the beggining, since it's that kind of "trendy" thing. But fact is that I'm working mostly with a bunch of incompetents.
I'm not talking on personal grounds, here. Just that the lack of organization and understanding of some departments not only makes my professional role a living hell, but also is digging a grave for the whole company faster than an armadillo.
Not that I care, anyway. I'm not really the kind of employee that incorporates the "team spirit" or any shit like that. I do my job the best I can - and I know what I'm doing. But they are not paying me for passion, just to work. So, if the whole thing go through the sinkhole, the only thing I will worry about is to find another salary.
After all, I need money to feed my addiction, and it is pretty expensive: about US$ 1.500, just the tickets...

Bonded by love

Last night I arrived pretty pissed off. I had worked the whole weekend up to midnight, had my car towed, I was robbed on the train station and was living a hurricane of hormones because of my PMS. These, to say the least.
So, when I got home, I wasn't much of talking. Didn't bother to dinner, instead I rushed straight to the shower and from there to bed. Tried one last effort in order to make me feel any better by putting on a brand new nightie I had bought thinking about a future special occasion. But is seems that the gift was just lowered to consolation. I decided to have a double dosis of my prescripted strong medicine. I needed to be sure I would sleep.

 I was already in bed, covered and about to dream when I heard his voice.
-Are you awake?
-No. - I answered, bit bitterly. We had this stupid, useless argument some days before, and since then I was pretty afraid to say anything without thinking twice before. And by then, I wasn't up to think anything. I just wanted to sleep that damn stress out.
-Are you mad at me? - He asked. But the fact he raised his voice a bit made clear that, even if I had any reason to, he wasn't up to apologize.
-No! - I raised my head from the pillow, feeling like drunk because of the medicines. He approached to kiss me and was embracing me closer. I was feeling claustrophobic, about to faint, but didn't want to make him think I was denying him. That kiss was taking longer than the usual and I felt his hands clinging to my back, in an obvious sign that he was expecting to have sex with me. I love it and I would, even on my worse days. But I was too tired and too high (or low) on sleeping pills, I just couldn't take that. I stop kissing him and he was forcing his tongue deeper to my mouth. I tried to get loose from his arms, but he would only grab me harder.

-I'm sorry, I'm just too tired. - I said, but he went on as he never listened a thing. "Stop!" - I asked again, and again he ignored me. "I don't wanna." - I even said that, but he was getting harder, kissing me deeper, squeezing my body, pressing his hard-on against me. "Stop, you're hurting me!" - I said when I felt I was really passing out if he didn´t get off me.
He stopped kissing me and covered my mouth with his strong hand. "Shut the fuck up." - Red said. I had never saw him aggressive like that. He wasn't smiling or making that any easier, his eyes were cold and the hair covering part of his face gave him an even more cruel looks. In that moment, I feared him. Never thought I could.

He pushed me to bed and let all his weight over me. Ripped out the upper part of my nighties to expose my breasts. "Hey, how you dare to..!" - I started complaining, still believing he was just playing a game, but he slapped my face and covered my mouth and nose, suffocating me.

-I said 'shut the fuck up!', didn't I?

I started crying. He let me breathe, I thought about screaming but I didn't dare to make a sound. He was madly sucking my breasts, squeezing them, biting my nipples. First came an almost unbearable pain, so hard that got me numb. Or maybe it was the medicines. The numbness was getting pleasant. The pain was gone, and when I felt he shoving his fingers up on my pussy, I could feel the moist drooling. He took his hand out of me and rubbed this wet all over my face, forcing me to suck his fingers. Then he squeezed my face.


-You're looking good tonight. - That wasn't just a compliment. Sounded more like a threatening.

I noticed that with his free hand he was taking his pants out. I couldn´t see as he was holding me back tightly from the neck, but I could guess his dick was rock hard and hot. He made me sure of it by hitting it hard against my pussy. He was slapping my clit with his cock, pinching it with his fingertips, brushing my asshole with my pussy juice. Teasing, I was afraid he would just shove that whole meat inside my ass, and he knew it. He started fucking me hard. He let go on my neck and was grabbing my hips with both hands, moving me roughly. It wasn´t him who was shoving his cock inside me, he was actually pulling and pushing my pussy up and down to him. At some point he was using my boobs as handlers to do it, and then he was again sucking and biting them while he went deeper and harder. I could feel his balls squeezing against my asshole, deep as he was. He was roaring and moaning as an animal, forcing my legs to spread, he actually grabbed his iPhone and started filming or taking closeup pictures of my pussy being mercilessly banged. By then, I couldn't care less. I could barely feel when he stopped fucking my pussy, so sour, hot and swollen it was. But I did feel when he grabbed my hair. That hurted, I screamed, or tried to. Because he had got up and forced me to bend me to my knees up on the bed, then rubbed his wet cock all over my face before choking me with it. I tasted a bit of blood, it was obvious I was hurt.

-Oooh... suck me, you bitch. Swallow it all.
One hand kept my hair caught, obligating me to go forward and backwards on his cock, gagging me from any screaming. The other slapped me hard on my butt. I could feel it getting red and hot from the spanking. I looked up to him, he had still that cold looks and -fuck - how sexy the motherfucker was. He pierced his eyes in mine and gave me that sadistic smile. By that moment I had no idea whatsoever what I was feeling anymore. I had never been that humiliated, I had never been that mistreated, I had never felt so horny. The sleeping pills made me so stoned I was the perfect victim for that date rape. I was even shutting down for some times, because  things started to happen in flashes. He was choking me with his dick, he was fucking my tits, he was rubbing his cock in my face, forcing it down my throat while grabbing my neck straight, so he could shove it deeper. I dunno how much time had been passed since he was abusing me, but I couldn't fight against the effect of the sleeping pills anymore. Everything was getting blurred. I closed my eyes and passed out.

I woke up with something cold being shoved to my pussy. I screamed, but then noticed I was gagged. My hands were tied together, my legs were tied spreaded, to the bounds of the bed. I couldn't turn back to see him, but he leaned over me gently, kissing my neck and caressing my shoulders.

-I love you. - He whispered in my ear. And turned on the vibrator he had just pushed inside my pussy. For one second, my body relaxed. I felt his hands down to my back, massaged my hips and spreaded my butt. Then there was something hot and moist to my asshole. And by then it was already too late to try any escape - as if I could.

He took the vibrator off my pussy and dived his entire cock inside my asshole at once. Then he took his dick out and fucked my pussy with the vibrator again. And out. And I felt his cock ripping out my butthole again. And then started fucking it hard, in and out. He shoved the dildo back inside my pussy and left it there while he was unraveling my asshole deeper and harder as ever. I was desperately screaming and moving, but all tied, that was useless. He was roaring again, saying a bunch of stuff I could not understand, I felt my clit so hard it was rubbing against the sheets and at some point I exploded into an squirting orgasm that expelled the dildo from inside my pussy. My body was shaken, I contracted my butt and felt him cumming inside my asshole, that hot stuff squirting into me, he screamed as an animal grabbing my ass so hard I could feel his nails hurting my skin.




He layed down, not on top, but beside me, panting. I could notice he was devastated, but still put a huge effort in untie me. The last thing he freed me from was the gag. And kissed me, softly and gently as he always did. His eyes were sweeter than ever and he caressed my hair with a passionate smile.

-I love you.

And this enslaved me forever.

.

Spring feelings (a.k.a Lyhyt romanssi)

So, spring is here. I'm amazed of no matter how dead the city might look, flowers still blossom everywhere. I especially love the species of tree we call "ipe". By this time of the year, they mostly doesn't have just one single leaf, instead, they get totally covered by flowers. Some trees grows yellow ones, some other has purple ones, white ones, pink ones. And these colors paint the city in a remembrance that there is still a lot to love in this world.
Sunday woke up and is already late, but yet I lay here, struggling to get up. Sometimes before I open my eyes, I pretend i'm still on a bed faraway, having his arm as a pillow and his heartbeat for lullaby. I wonder if many people out there were at least once, at least half as happy as I was back then. As I still hope to be at some point, when I get flashed by that shining eyes again. That impression they can look straight into my soul, the sight that makes me smile uncontrollably to the point I feel I'm the silliest happier person in the world, as if it's a sight of heaven indeed. What would you feel if you were touched by an angel, if you could ride an unicorn, if you found the gold in the end of the rainbow?  Maybe there are not such things in this world: they are only allegories of a happiness few can believe to find. In this world, the best we can get is to feel it. And I do, since I found him.

But for now, I walk only with this heartwarming memory through the flower carpet of our spring. That's what's up for today.

The true story of how I became a woman. Really.

Truly, is amazing how the most popular posts here are Mr. Red ones. I'm starting to believe you readers are more interested in him than in me...That's okay, me too am more interested in him than in most of you readers, and I also think my life gets bit more interesting when he's around. Specially in sexy flesh and hot blood. Yeah...maybe he's not that imaginary afterall. Just most of the time.

Actually, I feel like confessing you all something that took me some time to admit, even to myself, and I hope this helps some of you guys to be more attentious to it. When I arrived from my Not-So-Lonely-moon I was sitting with a bunch of female friends I haven't been seeing for a long time, and after a whole lot of beers and a pack of cigarettes we started entering on this subjects we just don't tell- not even to your best friends. And after hearing a couple of interesting stories, I had to come up with this.

-You know, I always loved sex and I mostly get to the orgasm everytime I have it, one way or another. But I had never got to cum by just being penetrated, without any other stimulation... I started my sexual life by 20 and by 26 I was already getting worried and thinking there were sure something wrong with me.

The girls said nothing. So I went on.

-One day I read an interview from a sexual therapist and she said that she herself had never got an orgasm before turning 30, so I kinda got relieved. But 30 came, and I didn't. Well, until...two weeks ago.

And then the girls were really interested. I laughed.

-It was so nice, you know...because I felt it coming - we always do - and I started moaning higher and higher, feeling his cock up to here - and I pointed to my womb - I almost stared crying, so happy I was. Really, I felt firecrackers all over. It was the best fuck of my life, for sure. I really feel more like a woman now. It is indeed amazing. It is powerful, and I really felt like celebrating.

-What did you do? - one of the girls laughed.
-Well, I took him downstairs for a smoke.
-Didn't you tell him?
-Of course not! What would he take me for?
-A cumming girl? - the other smiled.
-Nah, this is not the things you confess so easily. Because it somehow used to make me feel bad, actually. And besides, this would mean to confess his cock didn't make me cum all the other times before that, and we had quite a few.
-Well, you left saying you wanted something new from this vacation and it seems that in fact, you had..!
-Indeed..!

But one of the girls were pretty silent. We all looked to her and she ended up saying.

-Well...I'm glad I'm not the only one then.

I smiled.

-Don't worry. It will happen at some point. Now I'm pretty fucking sure of it.

If she ever find a guy like mine, oh boy, she will. Even if it take ten years or so.

Ten to midnight

"Drained out to the last drop of sanity
I let reason tighten the laces of this straight jacket
Hear me from a distance
If my voice is still strong enough to be listened
A wild ride through the time lapse
That separates truth from reality
Words that are now outdated, but still it bangs like a hangover
Counting sins, collecting flaws, breeding hate on the lower grounds
Raise your sword not to bend your knees
Fair enough for a game one can never win
Life gets shorter each step forward
And when I have only one last breath
Your name will be my whisper..."


- What are you thinking about?
- Life.
- Is it good, or is it bad?
- I dunno, I'm not alive yet.

I'd wake up happier...

...if I could make love to you first thing every morning.

It's wonderful when waking up is better than dreaming.

Still a dream, though...

Quitting this shit out

Know what? I might be totally bipolar, but I guess it's ridiculous to go on with this "low self esteem" talk. I just read the last post and truly, I just won't erase that shit as a reminder to myself of how ridiculous it actually is. I might work for a stupid company full of idiots, but nobody ever said my work is not good enough. Besides, fuck society and its hypocrite rules, it's already been a while since I decided not to give a fuck, and I´m doing it well so far. Indeed, I will never fit this world as long as I insist to be myself. And that's precisely what gets me down every now and then: I dunno why, I feel this need to dance to their music. Every now and then something convinces me that life would be easier if I just settled down and bend to the normality. This never works. Just gets me down instead.

Fact is, I never got anything from life by being normal. That's precisely why most wonderful things in my life are so extraordinary. Yeah, I will never have a business career. And probably will never know what stability means. I don't even get friends with stable people! My life won't be the way I was planning, nothing will happen the way it´s supposed to, because for a start, I kinda refuse to be what I'm probably supposed to.

This is me. Take me or leave me. Or whatever you want.
I might do the same.

As if you cared

I know I've been away. Unfortunately, not as away as I was supposed to. I still come online to facebook, tweet and check the stats of this crap. Just haven't been writting because, really, there's nothing useful to say. I've been feeling like shit for a bunch of reasons, and blogging about this somehow makes me feel stupid, specially when some people comes to say "hey, don't be like this, you're a wonderful, beautiful, loved person, blah, blah, blah.". Even more when this people are ones in fact, I don't even know. Or worse: ones that I do know: and I know they actually don't give a shit. Yeah, I do eventually make public my shitty self esteem. But believe me: if you don't get an alike inbox, this means you are not in the list of the ones who can help, so don't even bother to give a fuck. Make it a please.

Just a cruel joke

Once more Red

-I need you.

 I didn't care if he was sleeping, fucking or whatsoever. I called him at once and there he was. Ready to satisfy my dreams. Or something. I just wanted him to have me the hardest way, fingers playing me as an instrument, my body surrendered to his. I needed to feel his strong hands hitting me, harder and harder as he fucked me. Yes, big guy, you can rape me anyway you want. I´m a slave for you. I´m whatever you want me to be. Just fuck me. Squeeze my breasts and suck me that way you always make me cum. I´ll cum for for you, over and over again, just the thinking about your dick inside me makes me shiver. Your voice...gosh, now it´s the sexiest memory ever. Slip down my panties, I want to feel you inside me. I need to get your hands all over me and smell your chic parfum, so I´ll know I wasn´t dreaming.
 Enough with the dreaming, it´s time for some action. I want you to fuck me in the dirtiest way you know or you could even imagine, and fuck, that feels so good..! Hit me once, twice, harder : I wanna make you scream. Put your fingers and your cock inside me, fill me up as only you can. I´m yours to take, I´m taken. I´m a fucking idiot, but still a good fuck.
 he slid his fingers inside my pussy, his cock was all up in my ass. Harder, I´d scream, harder he´d go. As a bitch I was being fucked, filled, screwed out all my morals and shame.

He was choking me with his dick and stretching my asshole with his fingers while french kissing my pussy deeply. I was drooling all over his cock, licking his balls, caressing his asshole with the tip of my tongue, I wanted to swallow him whole. He was sucking my clit, finger fucking me both holes, I had his dick held in between my tits while my lips moved around its head. He came all over me in a hot shot to my face, so fucking delicious that made me cum in his mouth too.


In and out, his fingers slowly moved inside me after the shockwave. I'd kiss his softened cock as a caress before turning downside up to see his face. Eyes and lips closed, one arm up, head to the side, he seemed to be dead tired, about to sleep. The black tattoos contrasting with the white skin, the messy hair all over the pillow, he was a rebel angel in Morpheus arms. The fallen prince that came to my life to show me every little piece of bittersweet we can get from this existence.

In times like these, it's hard to believe he's nothing but a figment of my imagination.

Mind Control

I was fucking around online and I found this interesting discussion: "does mind control works on people who actually thinks?". It got me thinking for a while.

Point is: what is a person who "thinks" ? Is it someone who questions? Someone who stands for something? Because fact is that the world is full of people who thinks differently in the same way. Are they thinking at all?

To make a long philosophy short: maybe mind control only doesn´t work with people whose mind doesn't fit in any standards. Because you can reprogram any point of view that´s already set. You can changed any formed opinions and mess up anything that you can figure out - but who can control a mind that works in unique ways? How can you fix a system that you have no idea how it works?
Any mind is controlable, but the crazy ones.

 That's my theory. And my hope.

What a life..!

Wake up. Jogging. Shower. Office. Drink coffee. Write. Drink water. Take a piss. Smoke. Drink water. Write. Drink water. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Write. Eat a sandwich. Smoke. Drink water. Write. Take a piss. Drink coffee. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Write. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Write. Write. Write. Drink coffee. Smoke. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Write. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Take a piss. Home. Write. Sleep.

No wonder I'm depressed.

A flick of imaginary love

Finally home, dead tired. Still filled with emotions I can't really figure out. Bad impressions of myself, my life, my world.  I look at the empty bed, to where he's supposed to be.

-I'm here - his voice came to me. I could feel the soft touch of his skin in mine. Guided by the lighthouse of his eyes I could find the taste of his lips. Hot as the summer should be, we embraced in silence. Instead of burning in desire, my heart was filled with the most tender peace I´ve ever felt.

And suddenly that was all that I needed.

Smells like disillusion

Something's terribly wrong. I dunno if it's me or the world, problem is that the more I think it's the world, the worse I feel about me. I may be grumpy and irritable sometimes, but I'm hardly a depressive person. But that's pretty much how I am feeling right now. Sad, as if suddenly all the hope had been ripped off my heart. As if I would never be happy again. I look at the future and I can actually see it, but for the first time in my life it doesn´t seem so bright and appealing.

Feel like I just knew I already went through all the golden moments of my life. As if I just knew I already ran out of joyful occasions in this existence.

Today when I was leaving work, I knew a big fire burnt something like 200 shacks of a shantytown close to where I live. Lives changed drastically today. I can still smell the broken dreams, the hopes, the pain and delight of the way more than thousand people who lost everything.

Did I lose something too..?

My soul is tired. But it will be hard to sleep tonight.

Been singing this in my mind all day...

Kickass Party

Last night I went to a kids birthday party. I love it, because it usually means a lot of tasty trash like hot dogs, popcorn, chicken balls, looooooooooooots of candy and hardly any bothering drunk adults listening to shitty music and embarassing themselves. If at a children´s party they think it´s shameful to pose for a picture with Cinderella, they should see them doing the macarena at the office´s happy hour.

The invitation said that we could go wearing costumes. I don´t remember reading that applies just to the kids, so I wanted to wear one too, but my Batman nightgown was at the laundry, and I don't think a sexy nurse would fit the occasion, so I just worn a regular grey and white dress and my leather jacket, but still my daughter would say I was dressed as a cave woman ( I guess it was because of the dress patterns that looked bit as stone, bit as animal print ). To my niece, I was one of the Monster High characters. Great, for the girls I was a pre historic living dead. With a full filled breastline. But still didn't catch the eyes of the prince, who only danced with Cinderella.

My 5 yro daughter, however, think she´s got the catch of the night: instead of hanging around with Tinkerbell, Rapunzel and the other princesses, she was playing Guitar Hero with Flynn Rider. The little spanish gipsy and a Disney thief. Should had filmed that, hopefully someone did.

And now that the fairytale is done, it´s time for Monday..

She did say that:

"Men who have pierced ears are better prepared for marriage. They've experienced pain and bought jewelry."