Suf­fer­ing Love

I will cut you as you kiss me. I will rape you as you cry. I will rip your skin and fuck you through the wound.

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I Got Fucked

This lovely, beau­ti­ful masochis­tic girl was using me to hurt her­self. Does it get much bet­ter than that?

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Q: Why Do I Want to be Hurt?

When a woman has expe­ri­enced the mind­less­ness of being purely and pri­mally female, exer­cis­ing all her emo­tional mus­cles the way she was designed to do, how can she ever for­get how peace­ful that made her feel?

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It Can’t Be Faked

Either the fire is there or it isn’t. It can’t be faked. The burn and the sheer force of pas­sion; it isn’t the same as lust. Every­one can feel lust. This is… different.

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Hold­ing Beauty in the Palm of My Hand

I lose myself in her pupil-​eclipsed eyes and I star­tle myself when I hear my own voice speak a truth that can­not be denied anymore.

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My Writ­ing

My writ­ing is my one redeem­ing fea­ture; my one path to sal­va­tion, my only path to redemp­tion, my only way home to be cra­dled in her arms and in her very body.

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Q: What is Your Pre­ferred Method of Erotic Torture?

I have been told in a lit­tle and plain­tive voice that my fin­gers are much worse than any clover clamps…

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Gynephile

Imag­ine when you reach her heart and she opens up to you and blos­soms like a flower before your very eyes…

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Bit­ing and Slap­ping and Tug­ging and Pinching

I need to des­per­ately soak all my senses with her, to get so close to her that I miss not a sin­gle breath of hers or a sin­gle heartbeat.

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It’s Com­pli­cated, Part 3

It’s been a long week.

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Those Eyes

The sweet scent of breath envelops me when I kiss those soft, wel­com­ing lips…

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It’s Com­pli­cated, Part 2

Another can­cer? In the brain?

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My Kilt

It’s the best $200 I have ever spent and I’m think­ing of get­ting one in every color.

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I Just Don’t Get It

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not com­plain­ing. I just don’t get it.

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The Only Sen­si­ble Way to Love

I have loved to the point of mad­ness; that which is called mad­ness, that which to me, is the only sen­si­ble way to love. Francoise Sagan

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My Eyes May Be Psy­chotic, But I’m Not

Come join me at the NCSF.

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