My First time lesbian sex…pt 2

When she was done she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar note and a business card. She laid them both on the table.

“You know what to do if you change your mind,” She said while standing up and sexily walking out but only after giving my ass a gentle squeeze.

Later that night, I lay in my bed with my fingers buried between my pussy lips thinking of Luce. I justified that it was her maleness that had turned me on. The way she dressed like a man, and talked like a man, and her manly demeanor. Nevertheless, I had to admit to myself that in all my twenty-four years no man had ever made me as horny the way she did. Thinking of Luce I rubbed my clit faster until I came then I drifted off to sleep. Continue reading My First time lesbian sex…pt 2

Why I Love you

Ask me again
why I love you?
So I can say:
With you I feel unabridged
without you my heart have
an unoccupied hovel.
I love you for you…
Your smile, your laugh.
I love you for the stupid
things you do.
I love to see you when you
first awake in the morning.
I just love the splendour of your
body with no shirt on.
Actions speak louder than
words, this I know.
Without a doubt in my mind or
any flaw you may find …
Ask me again
Why I’m with you?, Why I care about you
and do know that it all comes
down to three simple words
“I Love You”


When you asked me if I ever felt like I didn’t know who I was, if I ever felt lost, I said that I didn’t. Was that because I thought I knew who I was? Or did I do not realize that I hadn’t really found myself? I have no idea who I am. What I’m doing or what I want. Where am I going? Why do I feel like I’m constantly waiting for something? It’s there in my mind unceasingly, this thought that there is something to get, something to do. It gets in the way of now, prevents me from thinking clearly.
But that’s not what I really wanted to talk about today.
I wanted to know why I’ve come to this site to vent my thoughts. Why it’s to a computer and not a person that I ‘speak’ to. I need an outlet, as many people do, a way of releasing my feelings into the world. I can’t lie to myself, in a selfish and self-absorbed way I want SOMEBODY to know how I’m feeling, there would be no point in writing all of this otherwise, would there?
FUCK. Now I can’t organize my thoughts in order, there are too many of them, too many tangents, they branch off and split repeatedly, sometimes doubling back and meeting up. Too many to write
Music is distracting in these circumstances. The noise of the traffic on the street ahead is soothing and melodic.
Peace at last…?
I wonder what it would take to make me happy. I feel angry with myself for not being happy, a strange situation to be in. Though that’s not always a bad thing as how would you appreciate or realise happiness if you couldn’t compare it to being sad.
Although sadness isn’t what I feel.
Lost, bewildered, lonely, maybe betrayed. The melodramatics of this text have not escaped me, though chances are no one will read this anyway.
Self-pity? now there’s a trait to admire.
Shame that sarcasm doesn’t carry well across the text,
Talking to myself,
Is that not what I’m doing anyway?
Matters nothing, no one will read this anyway

I’m not going to write this as if I’m talking to her. As then I might as well try and talk to her. I wish I could just forget, but better to have love and lost then never to have loved at all right? Bet he wouldn’t have said that if he kept on losing.
It’s taken its toll on me, I don’t want to have to say goodbye any more.
So I won’t say hello again.
Metaphorically of course
I feel like I’m talking in riddles, I want to speak clearly but there is no way to communicate the mess that is inside.
Can you, the reader, sitting on a chair; maybe your chair or maybe just a chair (say chair in your head too much and it loses all meaning, why should that combination of letters and sounds, when ordered like that, take the meaning of the object upon which you may or may not be sat?), in your bed or on the kitchen table, can you understand this at all? What I’m trying to do is give you a glimpse into how my thoughts work, they vast raging maelstrom of ideas and emotions which swirl through my brain. Love to be able to understand how carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus, iron, hydrogen and all the other elements come together to form a brain, then with a new combination form chemicals and hormones which govern it, all powered by the zaps of electricity which isn’t made from anything like as simple as atoms but rather the same thing that atoms are made of. How does that come together to make me ME?
That was a long paragraph. If you can understand that then you understand me better than I do. I just got lost with my thought stream and allowed it to run wild. Now I’m just getting boring.
Now that you can see how I think, do you understand me? I’m not sure why I find this so important but I do and I always have. If you can see how my mind fits together, how it works and where my thoughts come from and are headed then does that make us soul mates? But if you CAN understand me, how many others can? This world is a big place, surely there could be more than one person for everyone. Make a group of soul mates. A harem of them. Some people are simpler to understand than others. At least on the outside. I’m losing my mind again, I can’t keep it in order so I think it’s time to post this. I’m sure that I’ll talk more on the subject soon, though I don’t doubt it’s more for my own benefit than anyone else’s.
One final thing before I go through. The lesson I’ve learnt from this. It’s important to do this at least once, indeed you should do it regularly, so that you know that when one of THOSE conversations come up (the ones where you are able to convey something about yourself to another individual, they usually occur in bed, alone together, or maybe at a bus stop, walking her home, when one of those conversations come up then you are able to contribute and ask a question which will make the other person interested, challenge them, allow them to see inside your mind.
Now tell me truthfully.
Can I Be Found?