Lost in Txtlation

These are the cookie crumbs for my depreciating mind.

Tag: romantic

Heated (fiction)

I am sitting on the edge of the bed lighting the last candle. The power has been out for at least an hour and the room has become humid as the summer pushes past the last remnants of cool air that was already struggling to fill each room in my city flat. The perspiration on my neck starts to fall down my chest underneath my buttoned down black shirt as I lean back from the candle, light flickering against the walls. I notice a shadow fill the dimly lit space and feel a soft pressure on my back as my girlfriend, who was in the bathroom room lighting more candles, pushes up behind me, her hands pass by my periphery as they warp around the front of me. Her chest is warm and soft on my back, her hands skillfully running up each bottom to the top of my shirt, teasing my senses, her mouth blowing lightly on my neck, cooling me for a moment. In that same instance she pops the top button of my shirt and puts her lips to my ear. I shiver in a moment filled with heat.

Her one hand is popping each button in a rhythm that makes me wild, while her other hand has slowly pushed down my chest to the waist where she is pulling my shirt out of my pants. The opposing motions keep me guessing for each moment. My shirt is sticking to me, the room is filled with heat and emotional intensity. I sit there, posture straight, pushing slightly back to feel her body against mine, trying to make out every since bit of her through my shirt and her silky black dress she was wearing that night when we went out. The familiarity of each bit of her makes me more excited, but only seeing it in a flickering candles shadow, creates what can only be described as a dream. As she gets to the last button her other hand already has the shirt pulled away from my skin and pinning my arms back behind me as she begins to take it off, but intentionally stopping short, running both hands over my chest. They slide smoothly from my collar bone to my pant line, pushing slightly into my pants, but returning back up my chest, finding enough grip to pinch both my nipples hard enough to make the sweat falling down my body to falter for a moment and my entire body, every pore, clenches. I let out a moan of pleasure involuntary…

I can feel her breath on my ear as she stays close to it, licking, and breathing into it sporadically but with clear intention. I am so turned on and alert, I am able to break free of my own shirts grasp enough to put both my arms around the small part of her waist, pull her closer to me with a firm grasp, and stand straight up forcing her to stand with me. I turn around locking her eyes, my shirt sliding to the floor. The power being out in the entire city, allows for every fold of the shirt to be heard as it hits the old wood floor. Her eyes are sparkling with the candles flickering all over the room, as if they are dancing to the beat of our hearts as they beat loudly.

I immediately drop to my knees and take advantage of the fact that her position behind me has lifted her dress above her panties. I put both my hands right above her ass to give her stability from the rapid turn and slowly push my mouth against her panties, exactly on the right spot, I kiss, breath, and inhale her. I stay there long enough for her to start squirming, my hands fighting to keep her still, but feeling every muscle when it tensens, the humidity making her dress feel non existent as my hands try to decipher if I am holding skin or the illusion of it. I tilt my eyes up to her, hers are darting around the room and I wait for them to catch mine. Immediately I move my hands under the slightly still draped dress and in a quick motion stand up pulling the dress over her head. As her hands are forced upright, I kiss her sides, arms, and then her neck. As i remove her dress completely, I leave it slightly wrapped on her arms as I finish up on her neck, moving my mouth right in front of hers. The stutters in her breath and mine from every sensation cause us to yearn for that final push to touch our lips together and take in one another. Instead I remove her dress and finally can hear the shower in the background. She must have turned it on when she was in the bathroom. A breeze from the open window pushes through the cold water and against our exposed skin. Her eyes are pleading with mine to make the final push to her mouth, but I continue to pull away slightly every time we are about to meet. She breathes out while stumbling the breath itself. I drop her dress to the bed and push my body and mouth past the side of her face as I slightly lick her ear, now moving my body toward the promise of the cold water falling from the shower. I get half way across the room before she is able to turn and see where I am going.

As I walk, I undo my belt, dropping it to the floor, then my pants, and lastly my underwear in an almost complete motion. I notice the candles all over the bathroom, like a scene out of the most romantic movies right before I move straight into the streams of cold water falling from the shower. The sensations overwhelm me because my body is filled with heat.

She, watching this all unfold stumbles with her bra for the first time in her life and dropping her panties just by walking toward where I have disappeared behind the bathroom wall. By the time she gets to the shower, her bra is still on and I reach for her hand and pull her into the cold stream of water with me. Instead of standing, I pull her close to me and slowly we both sit in the porcelain bathtub as cool water streams from above. She is sitting in front of me and I behind her. I wrap my hands around her breasts grabbing the front clasp as it snaps free and springs to the sides as the water falls down her face to her nipples all the way to her groan. She stumbles for her breath as the cold water shocks her system and my hands hold onto her tightly protecting her from the cold waters intensified stream, warming her body with mine, water filling our mouths, falling out over our bodies as we both try to breath in this constant flow of cold meets our sweating and heated bodies. She slides up and down my body trying to get closer to me, the sensations arouse me beyond what I thought was possible. She can feel every part of me and it makes her move more intently. My hands cannot let go of her, but struggle for traction on our wet bodies, making each motion much more grandiose and grasp firm.

We stay like this for what seems like an hour or so, our lips slide across each others as she turns back toward me simultaneously equalizing our bodies to a cool temperature, but filled with the heat of the moment. She reaches forward and with a flick of her hand the water stops falling. I can hear the last drops hit the hard surface of the shower floor. She stands as I watch her body glisten against the many candles as each droplet of water falls onto me. I want to lick every part of her body as if she were a cold glass of water on this extremely heated day.

She walks out of the shower ignoring the towels neatly placed on the racks and moves over to the large window that extends from the floor to the ceiling. A window that is reminiscent of something in a romantic Paris hotel. Outside the streets are dark, the buildings are silhouetted against the full red hazed moon. A rustle of activity can be heard outside as people are unable to sleep in this weather without power, moving to their stoops in hopes for a cool breeze of relief. She just stands there creating a pool of water on the floor underneath her.

I stand up from the floor of the shower and move toward her,  can make out the hairs on the back of her neck start to stand up slightly from the occasional candle lights gaze. It is guiding me to her. She knows I am close. I push my soaked body against hers and she pushes up against the cold glass on the window, reaches behind her, and grabs me with a firm grip, precisely lining me up with what is about to be pure bliss. I, unable to contain myself, as she pulls and places, push exactly at the right time and we are connected, feeling the heat of her surround me. I almost leave my body for a moment and watch as it transpires. Our two silhouettes backlit by the warm light of the cool moonlight. Our backs are contracting, flexing, and bending the candlelight as the water drops mixed with perspiration fall to the floor from each movement. Our motions constant and intense.  

As if I was shocked back to life from a near death experience I am pulled back into my body as I feel her squeezing around me, closing the gap between our bodies through instinct, tightening, contracting, the inside of her body pulling on mine. I am moaning loudly as I no longer have control over any of my body and hers is shaking on mine. Wave after wave of pleasure passes through us both as our bodies naturally compliment one another. Pulling and pushing what we need, until we finally explode falling backwards onto the bed in a release, still unable to separate our bodies. Our muscles are still having rolling intensities, our heads turned toward each other as we lock lips through the remainder of this amazing orgasm. Right as it feels like it is starting to subside, the sounds of the city coming back alive fills the air, the electricity of the moment and the world starts to turn back on. The air conditioner begins to push cold air over our bodies as we lay naked inside one another. We laugh slightly as the lights flicker back on to full and we see the clothes all around the room and the bed sheets covered in a dark shadow from our soaked bodies. We fall asleep, lips touching, cool air once again caressing our bodies.

Glass Elevators (Fiction)

The clock reads 8 pm, as you put your last earring in, in a rush, taking one last glance in the mirror, realizing how late you are for dinner. You push out of your room grabbing the room key off the table by the door as you wrap your jacket around you halfway out in the hallway rushing to the elevator. The doors close and you feel a sense of excitement and calm as you look out the glass all around you. You are marveling at the fact that you are 30 stories above this new exciting city made of brownstones and warm lighting, yet you stand in this extravagant modernized hotel looking over the city light a god. The doors open with the reminding tune of the elevator tone as you hit the lobby, you walk composed now toward the exit as you see him waiting for you at the exit.

He is dressed in a black suit and newly pressed black collared shirt. The elevatordoors close behind you resonating that same tone,simultaneously he begins to turn around as if it called his attention. As he turns you can see the scruff of his beard contrasting against the straightness of his hair. You can tell the plane trip tired him out yet he looks like he had rested for days, and as his head finally makes its final turn, you meet at the eyes. His piercing blue eyes meet yours as you are now inches away from him. He says nothing as he takes his hand and runs it through your hair on the side of your head passing through and over your ear. You can feel the heat coming off his hand as it warms your face, all the time eyes are locked. You need not say anything as you both turn away from the exit his hand now around you and without even looking away he hits the elevator door’s button. You both are locked into each other, both knowing everything thing yet nothing in this blurred tunnel you exist at this very moment. The crystal chandeliers above sparkle in the pupils of your eyes and the people bustling about blur out to your world as it is jut you and him. Once again the sound chimes and without even turning you are both in the elevator still turned toward each other.

You feel a slight loss of gravity as the elevator begins its slow ascent.  In this moment of weightlessness, he pulls your head firmly toward his as he begins to kiss you. The warm lights and the streets filled with cars, in this strange new wonderland of cobblestone roads traveled with the headlights of cars, which seem so out of place rush past, flashing lights through the glass surrounded walls and your closed eyelids giving you the feeling of a strobe effect.  The heat from your bodies can be felt through ever touch, his lips are moist from yours as they slide against yours. Your upper lip over his and both your breath is in sync. As you pass a new floor you can hear theelevator chime as if it is giving each kiss more intensity as it climbs.  It tones again and he pushes you against the glass window. Every floor his hands pull you closer and grabs at a new part of your body.  You hear him inhale deeply to gather his breath in this moment of breathless fervor, and with that you push him sternly away from you. He stands dazed in the center of the elevator you against the glass, you turn away looking out over the amazing city below. In a matter of milliseconds you think of how amazing it is that a couple of hours ago you were sitting at home and now you were looking upon such a magnificent new place. You think about him standing there dazed and somewhat confused, and you think of everyone looking up at you, although nothing more than a blur of lights below, as you, the princess of this new world, traveled up to her throne in a magical way, compared to the rooftops of clay you look down at. Then with a swift motion you untie your jacket with one hand and with the other brush it from your body, as it falls to the ground.

This moment can only be described in a timeframe faster than the mind can think so that if you were watching it, it would feel as though it were happening over the matter of hours. Your jacket slides down your body, revealing the straps of your only cover, black laced lingerie, mixed with satin garters and straps up and down your body in places that would excite. There are garnishes of white accents on every piece that contrast against your darker tones. The jacket slides down your back, over your ass, and piles up at your feet.

You can hear that he has stopped breathing behind you. He had no idea, and that is exactly what you wanted. You almost think of turning around to press his jaw back up to his upper lip but then you hear the tone of the elevator again, as quickly as you hear it chime, you see in the reflection of the glass a quick motion of his hand, as he flicks his wrist at the console of brightly lit buttons flashing each floor, and the elevator stops abruptly. You are about to turn around but before you can turn your body, he is behind your pushing you against the glass, his lips locked into your neck as your writhe in the moment. Your hair falls to the side as you push into his kiss. Your body pressed tightly against the window, your mind races wildly, what if someone is watching, who cares if someone is watching, your mind quickly returns to the subject at hand when his teeth meet your skin for a playful intention. You feel your body fill with heat as you now have no concept of humility anymore. You just intend on becoming his as he pulls at the straps on your body. You hear the clasps unhook with sharp resounding noises. One by one, still entrenched in your neck with his mouth. You let out a gasp of ecstasy.  You reach around you unbuckling his belt and pulling his neatly pressed shirt from his pants. You hear the clasp of his pants undo, and the thought of what will happen next has you let out a soft but noticeable moan.

He can tell that the public-ness of the situation has heightened all your senses, and has turned animalistic in his approach. He runs his hand up the back of your head your hair filling his fingers, as he pulls you around to face him. Your hair pulls as you are forced to turn, you feel the little amount of cover you had on slip down your body since he had managed to pry it all loose. You hear its connect with the floor as he pushes his body into yours.

You reel your head back in the passion of the moment, your hair hanging weightlessly against your back and you feel him lift you up off the ground only your back is pressed against the glass the rest pushed against and over him. With firm and strong motions you both embrace each other, feeling the cables tightening above you as you sway slightly from the intense motions. You let out all sounds that fill your head and body, your bodies begin to perspire from the act itself and the situational circumstances, fearful but emotionally tangled in the danger.

10 floors up the sounds of your last explosive moments can be heard resounding through the elevator shaft itself, through the cracks of each floors doors, not even diminishing as it travels.

The chimes of the floors once again begin to sound again, and as quickly as the last sound chimes, you wake up in his arms, dazed but wide awake. You pull out of his arms, grab the sheet to cover yourself as you go to look out the window at the day ahead of you, as you pull the curtains back you quickly look at the clock, it reads 10 pm.  You realize this is because you landed only a few hours earlier and are still on your home time. You see him lying with the remaining sheets barely covering his naked body, the curves and cuts accentuated by the shadows caused by the open curtain and the moonlight spilling in. He begins to open his eyes, as you move back to the bed, gently getting on it walking on your knees, as the crisp sheets rustle beneath you, bent over to push towards him tenderly. You meet his eyes opening. You kiss him softly and whisper in his ear, “Want to try to get dinner again?”

A Metro Lumberjack with Wifi

If you are looking for the guy who is mysterious, I may not be your choice, not because I am not good at keeping the intrigue going, keeping you on your toes, or being a “man”, but because I choose communication over fighting down the road over notions of “who I am with you” and “who I am with myself”. I can dress nice, I can grow a beard, I can also shave and look like a total bum, and wear plaid. I am great with my hands, but also text faster than a jack rabbit, doing what jack rabbits do quickly. Perception really. Your wants at the time of reading this and my perception of what I want. Does that mean if we agree with each others ideas it is inception? *epic music here*

I am really not a fan of bars or packed clubs… Every now and again it is enjoyable but I am 9 times out of 10 happier with you laying on me in the middle of the park. Shit I am even happy without talking and just enjoying the people and falling asleep in the afternoon. Does that mean I don’t like going out? Hell no, I love it, but I love the woods, I love the water, I love working on a project, building something, wearing my most comfy outfit while sitting on the patio but enjoying the company of everyone around. Grab a drink, don’t grab a drink, go in the kiddie pool, order some food, go upstairs to shit, whatever you want. It is calm and natural. Also I am damn good at doing nothing and being 100% ok with it. I do not have FOMA (fear of missing out). I did when I was younger but then I realized that fear was actually causing me to miss out… Mostly on enjoyable things by forcing myself to look for it too much, often ending in tiring boring nights of the same old shit.

Watching the other people at bars and clubs makes me hate civilization. Looking at these people lining the walls, with a fake “yo I am cooler than you” face is weird. Watching every girl coming in with more and more ass hanging out confuses me. Sitting in the corner of a smelly room paying excruciating prices for a glass of 20 dollar bottle of wine. I will never understand it. Shit I wanna use that dance floor to make a fool of myself. Surrounded by people who will enjoy it. I would prefer the opposite of any dance film where everyone is a professional and just have the worst person in the middle be the winner.

I often try to think of ideas for third and fourth dates and I realize I want to do the same thing I would suggest for 1 and 2, food, a museum, the park, a hike, pool, maybe a movie on the couch? Do I feel like it makes me less attractive, yup. I feel as though to fit in sometimes you have to know the best restaurants in this city of culture and diversity. You have to be able to suggest the best wine, not to mention afford it. But I am truly just happy to be with you. As long as we are looking in the same direction, laughing at the same people we walk by, I am happier with you, and noticing the weird looking squirrel than wherever our destination may be, hopefully you notice the squirrel too. I am also content just to be doing our own thing but around each other. (according to those close to me, I clean 1000 times better when someone is just sitting with me haha) I find that exploring and finding the cool places with you would be more fun than a fully planned out evening ever could be. I also wonder if asking you to the park on a first date is going to make me less “mysterious” and a “man’s man”, hindering my ability to “court” you. Does a big bill and drinks = fuckable and a calm day in the park = boring? I just wanna scream “YOU DON’T KNOW ME!” sometimes.

I honestly fantasize about living as far from a busy city as you can get. I fantasize of waking up to the smell of coffee, going into the yard and doing some work, maybe going to the corner store and puttering around to help the random tourist bus with their needs, and then focusing on chatting with the people around me and ultimately ending up home next to you, maybe you are reading a book leaning on me as I fall asleep or we are just in the same house finishing up what we need to do. But we are together and there is no pressure other than the need to take care of life, each other, and check in on youtube cat videos here and there. I think with the right company this lifestyle will give more pleasure than a fast paced, high paying, job could ever. Or why not both? I mean we were raised with the idea that eventually we find a job/career, make money, and love, yet we always seem to put love on the backburner.

But back on topic, will our first date in the park be on the day you really wanted a drink in a bar? You never know, but at least, we get to meet in person, and at least feel if there is something there instead of googling it. And I have come to a somewhat understanding that I am ok with this as long as it means being me.

“What I’m trying to make a point of is yes it’s those little simple everyday human things that I wish people valued more It’s the smallest things that create real intimacy and the smallest things that create and lead to big things“ – A.A.A.

Safety Date

I too often have gone on dates where I am told via text before arriving(because that is what we do to avoid the awkward conversations these days), “I have to leave in an hour, meeting a girlfriend for X Y Z”. Now this could be true or it could be total bullshit. The amusing factor is it is done for the same reason every time: a safety net from a bad date. For a person like me that couldn’t even quite deal with the timer on a Mario game back during my childhood, these trivial times on dates make me not want to leave the house in the first place. I am going on a date to enjoy the time, not plan for it to be a disaster or feel like I will lose an extra life if I go over the designated timelimit.

I have been on my fair share of dates where I realize within a few minutes of meeting that there is literally no connection. It is amazing what being in person with three dimensions, voice, pheromones, and close contact can have versus a two dimensional photo on a dating site and the obligatory resume or the notorious “About Me”.

So what do I do? I can tell you what I used to do; nothing. I would slog out the night filling the empty space with “uh huhs” and “yeahs”. Constantly checking my phone hoping candy crush(disclaimer I never have nor will I ever play that game!) will somehow become the worlds best excuses app, but constantly realizing all I have in the pipe is “My grandmother died”… and then I feel guilty for thinking it. Yeah not a very good one. So now I am not only doing a disservice for myself but to the person across from me. Trying to be boring enough so maybe they will want to end it and take the burden off me. To me that is exactly what the “timer” is, a tedious way to regulate a date before it even begins and if we are having a great time, trust me I don’t want you to leave just to keep the facade alive of your “plans”.

What do I do now? I tell the person the truth. WHAT!? You would be amazed at how much less invasive the truth is. This is NOT a skill I had inherently, this was something I had to teach myself. I had to build up my own belief in the idea that I need to protect myself a little bit as well. Not from danger but from situations that made me uncomfortable. I was asked once, “why did you stay if you were not enjoying your time?” I said, “I didn’t know what to say.” I was answered quickly, “Why not the truth”… I literally laughed out loud, but when I saw they were serious and considered it a way to care about and/or protect yourself a bit, for someone who is used to giving, I saw the figurative lightbulb over my head light up.  I needed to figure out a “timer” without hindering the possibilities of a good date. So I decided to go with the truth. Trust me the first few times were a little messy, but even the worst ones(which were not that bad), I got a text later on thanking me for my honesty and it was just not something they were used to. And ya know what? It felt really good to be able to protect that inside of myself that feels trapped when I am with someone I am not interested in. It let me go about my day/night the way I wanted without wasting time and energy on something I knew wasn’t going to work. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes you are on a train wreck so horrific you can’t even get yourself to look away, but what I didn’t realize is how much less jaded I got when I was able to go into a new date and know I was in control of my own comfort, if I felt no connection I could now openly explain to the other person, in a kind way, that I would like to end it right then, instead of dragging out something and being totally fake. It has made internet dating so much less nerve wracking. It doesn’t lead anyone on and it gives you actual control over something I always thought was uncontrollable.

So how is this different than the timer? I suppose different strokes for different folks, but imagine this if you may… If everyone approached the first date like this, would you even need to tell someone in what would become a redundant, yet currently obligatory text at the end of the night, “I had a good time”. If you made it through the date, guess what is implied? Yup. One change would make a ripple effect on how dating feels. It could literally make a good date that much better because no one is leaving the date wondering. I often reference European culture in respect to not having to question a date and how it went, and being able to be yourself. Take a gander at this article: http://www.myfrenchlife.org/2014/06/18/french-vs-american-dating/ A kiss in the French culture means exclusive. Hookups are less of a faux pa and “dating” doesn’t exist, they don’t even have a word for date. So there is a much more distinct line between getting to know someone comfortably and openly than just trying to get laid. The difference between a date where you are following strange dating mechanics of “doing” rather than “being”. But one step at a time. What do you think? Will you choose to tell the truth next time? Because it really is just that, a very conscious choice. And even if it feels harder, it ultimately ends up being easier on your soul.

Oh wow throw back Thursday. My first date application I made awhile back. The girl in question said she was very busy and it would take a whole lot for her to have time to go on a date… Do me being me I made her this. I got the date and she is to this day one of my closest friends.

The Tickle Kiss

I am probably going to be tossed out of man society by giving up this “well kept secret”. But let me explain the move that for SOME REASON all guys think is the best icebreaker for a first kiss IN THE WORLD. And by ALL guys I include myself.

I call it the Tickle Kiss.

This is the move where you are awkwardly at a standstill with talking or the date has gone well really well and you are both kinda jonzin(yes I said jonzin) for a kiss, but you cannot get up enough courage just to be rico suave and lean in. You say, “Are you ticklish?”(in a very sinister and and before they get a chance to tell you, you begin to prod and poke looking for it. If you are lucky you find it. First you just do it once as a joke and you both smile. The girl is almost guaranteed to look at you back and say, “Don’t do that again” in a playful tone. This is when the guy will immediately go for the move. He will begin to tickle her until she is in uncontrollable spasm. This usually ends up with the guy overpowering the girl and them ending up in very close proximity or with him on top of her on the floor, on a couch, whatever the tickle gods have deemed necessary for him to continue tickling her as she tries to get away. So for the time being lets say it ends up with him over her on a couch and her leaned up against the armrest of one of the far sides of the couch when he stops tickling her.(that is if she hasn’t pee’d herself) Now their eye meet, and they are close to each other, and BAM KISS!

This is like the fallback, goto, default, first kiss move to do for any first date where you just NEED TO but don’t know how.

There are a few exceptions though which makes for a dry evening and the guy usually taking a moral hit, but often guys will ask you the following questions and make some of these statements prior to the first date. Mind you these questions/statements seem innocent enough but they have a deeper meaning than you expected! Are you ticklish? Where are you ticklish? I’ll find out where you are ticklish! I’m gonna jump you and tickle you to death! (aka I am going to jump on top of you tickle you until we are so close, if we don’t kiss it just isn’t meant to be)

And if you are NOT ticklish oh man you have just made the guy go into panic mode! Not only can he not take over an argument or conversation by tickling you, which usually ends up with a kiss to make it better, but he cannot make his first move with the Tickle Kiss.(way to fuck that up ladies!)

What still confuses me, is the GIRLS ALWAYS ACT AS IF THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT JUST HAPPENED. As if they are not onto our little device for kiss timez! We kiss them after the tickle kiss and when we pull away the girl AND the guy say the same thing, “Oh I’m sorry” with a wicked grin on their faces, acting as if they didn’t expect it. And then usually if all is kosher they kiss again. Now I am not saying these are not amazing moments of goodness but it is still fun to think about how it all plays out. I guess sometimes we just NEED to really have those moments of cheese to make the days go by. So bring on some more cheese I say!

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