Gossima Threads

The endless night stretches out in time I reach out and gently pull the gossima  thread that me binds. I feel the void between us, cavernous and black. Cold it is and deep. I pull the thread and ache, feeling the love I lack. My hands go searching for delight as my mind slips away into the night.

Stars caress me as I pass I feel their touch awake a tingle deep inside my fingers searching, searching hands grope and grasp. Loneliness exiled for a few sweet moments longing banish for a short sweet while . Limbs stretched to north and south sweet murmurs escaping from my mouth.

Senses heighten every inch of skin tingles eyes wide and lips blood  filled and full. In and out  the gossima thread is pulled. Oh! such aching torment my feelings swell  my body changing pounding pulsing  swelling breasts and nipples hard. My mind flees it’s hell. Exploding from inner place pouring forth hot and sticky on my fingers it is not wrong this is a gift of grace. Be  strong  don’t give in to fear keep up the pace scream out in joy  no one can hear me in this space.

Breathing is hard  but the need is strong , such sweet and joyous reward cannot be wrong. More, more I scream as I crave relieve don’t stop now it is all too brief.

Heart stops pounding  body slows, a smile in my eyes  my body aglow such a shame to wake alone no one to hold  the stars all gone. Dark all dark I straddle the void with just the memory of what I have just enjoyed. The endless night stretches out in time I reach out and gently pull the gossima  thread that me binds.

TWO SIDES TO THE MIRROR

She hadn’t always dressed like this , she had once been an innocent waiting for her first kiss. She never dreamt she’d look like this and  dress to give some old man a moments bliss.

She was, now, rich with dresses fine and shoes all designer made. Channel perfume, dressed to kill. Making a good  living by opening her legs and getting laid .

Was she happy, was she sad, hard to tell when she weighed up all she had. Money , clothes and luxuries she had by the plenty  but as she looked around it all seemed so empty.

Rubbing her neck and stretching her back she remembers her first time and feels a lack of love and someone to hold. She sighs as she thinks of the family she had wanted before she was too old.

Her back was aching and her shoes where too high there was a knock at the door and she wanted to cry. Slowly she stood and walked across the floor and took a deep breath as she opened the door. There a man stood looking sweaty and shy  she fought back the  nausea, winked at him and cutely said “Hi!

She’d love a new dress OH! something in a vibrant blue or even in red just to prove she was alive now and not dead! Shopping and housework and the children’s homework filled her head.

This room is so dowdy, this house is too small nobody notices that she holds it together, in fact that she does it all. She wants some high life, no she just  wants some sex she tired and fed up with hurried uninterested five minutes she gets.

She tries to keep her figure and buys pretty things but she may as well wear a winncyette nightdress for all the lust and passion her sex life brings! He is always too tired her body to caress and seems more interested in the noisy kids and their mess.

She wants him to take her, she has  fantasies in her head she wants to be screaming with ecstasy on their bed. Or the bath or kitchen she does not care where! If only he would bloody notice she is still there! The door bell rings and breaks her chain of thought she wanders will tonight be different she goes to the door her insides all taught.

He is standing there he has forgotten his key he gives her a peck on the cheek , slip his arm round her waist and whispers “I’m starving  what’s for tea ?”……………… Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!

Dark Angel

Dark Angel

I can see him in the dark I can see him watching me. He is pissed and he is angry he furious with me.

There he stands the dark angel, planing how next to torture me he is cruel and he is clever he has so many tools to use on me.

He can make me beg for mercy he can make me scream for pain he finds out how to take me so near then just knock me back again.

Knowingly he can touch me where the fire burns the most, drawing and drawing until I implore for sating  then he kicks me to the floor.

He can lift me his hands in my sweet places, rest me on his joyous gift  then as ecstasy is in reach  toss me off as so much shrift.

He can leave wet and breathless crying out for sweet relief  he can drag me down to places that are so far from your belief. I am open wide to him but he does not care he will make me beg and pleased for it and then just rape me with his stare.

Here he comes the dark angel a smile upon his face he drags me across the floor strips me naked pulls me wide open, then displays to the world my disgrace.

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