Wednesday, 26 December 2012

Bring to boil

It’s the tables and the lesbians that don’t make porn.

I don’t find lesbians as porn, but then that falls into the category that I do not find women attractive at all and I see how I take the lighter from Dita as she pretends to be smoking something herbal just to waste time and get the same break I do. I look at her fluffy heels and I just admire how she gracefully manages to carry so many mugs at the same time with a smile and then fix her entire make up.

I hate it when men complain that they find her plastic, an injury which caused her to do new breasts and how she makes her skin pale, joking that when she had been in school she’d draw ballerinas on it instead of maths.

“I’d do him.” I tell her.

“Yeah, Max.” She just replies. “Ooooh, I’d do her.”

She nods at a blonde girl with a smaller child, pulling the kid by the hat and we both smirk.

We finnish out break and Dita gives out gum as much as she does lighter. I always wondered where she got the spare money from but her reply would never come. With her imagery I did though some kind of strip bar but I went once to her in the night and she had her face mask on with some small kid goofing around, baby sitting.

It was a simple task and it payed her a gum and a lighter so that worked for me. It was for her neighbors and she would do it if it was in her apartment, she’d cook gently a meal, read them something and all with her face in all the possible beauty products she’d scrap off at boots.

Dita tried making some once and failed, all the ingredients costing more than the thing. She managed home dye though and I’ve seen her do it, how she bends over the sink, lipstick still on her face, untouched. Surely, if I’ve been a woman I would do Dita, but it’s not about what’s between the legs, it’s not about caring too much or not at all, it’s just someone I can’t talk to all the bloody time, we need a break from each other, I won’t do eye masks with her.

And that’s it,

that’s not love despite what humanity thinks.


I hope you enjoyed it:)

Feel free to request and yeah a lot of Max Bemis requests now in a row xD

MERRY CHRISTMAS :D it's boxing day already over here but yeah:) I survived Christmas with all Tescos being closed XD yay me and Callie XD


Sunday, 23 December 2012

Hold The Flag2

The first time I ever had sex was terrifying with no joints shared but a cigarette before the girl had crawled into my bed, revealing a red thong.

I had no thongs back then, no guts to try and pass at a lingerie store, still going even now in plain cotton briefs.

It felt like biting a pillow, no one would hear and there would be no point, you would miss. She had trouble finding my clit and she kept getting hair too much in her mouth, I had no idea where to mouth her, she had a brazilian while I had a grown bush. I still don’t understand how can some women have full hair, fuck when it comes to straight men, that isn’t sex, never will be, a sex scene makes me close my eyes because I see it as rape, it’s fake, no woman should be or can be turned on by some asshole pounding into her, it still creeps me out.

That’s why I really dislike people who sleep like that. Women, men who let themselves be used.

I remember I got told that I was a lesbian due to my father being a spiritualist and being a massive fucker. My mother had died and we’d eat roast potatoes because that’s what I would cook. In the end he died off too.

I have roast potatoes and I’ve got a Jesus in my window because he didn’t believe in him.

I look at the woman with the cigarette, breathing out smoke and words which don’t match the music.


I haven't been posting lately will being ill and I've been writing stuff like further Paper Guns chapters so yeah:)

I hope you like it and feel free to request:3


Saturday, 8 December 2012

Heteronormativity is just that bad movie which is always on television because people think it's good according to sexism

Love is a memory which comes alive on the streets and when you’re exhausted when I’m asleep and alive, I dream and think of all the streets.

My room becomes a cage as it doesn’t have as much acceptance as the outside does.

I stopped smoking to get off drugs and I don’t want to drink alcohol when I people and women who smoke in front of me with their hair long.

I am bisexual and people don’t understand it, I say I don’t want a woman, I want a person, I want to be in the kitchen and cooking all the roasted chicken instead of a woman who will burn everything and the salt will spill.

I want neither.

Sometimes the date ends up with a woman wanting me and I spill my drink on her dress, sometimes I think she does so on purpose.

“Wanna fuck?” She whispers through her lips, a woman.

“Only if you fuck me.” I say and then the drink should be in my face but instead all cute men are called gay and never bisexual.

I don’t want a woman who won’t penetrate me back, I don’t want a woman who will stand on the kitchen cooking just because she wants to, I make great ravioli myself and I sit near the oven, flicking the light on and off as I eat.

I started growing my hair, letting it curl around my face and I’ve tried makeup.

I am not myself when I’m closed.

I am myself when I walk the streets of deserted history and when the Royal Mile turns into Holyrood and I can ride a 34 to Leith and lose connection.


Originally it was going to be a Alex Turner/New York, I Love You. I started watching it, I thought it was just going to be something like Paris, I love you, but alas, it wasn't. Sorry for being straight to the face it was awful, sexist and disgusting in my opinion. I had the idea of doing the whole Edinburgh, I love you, because well, Edinburgh, I love you XD so yeah:)

I got really irritated at the movie and when I was writing it ended up being less and less Alex Turner so yeah, but basically I can keep it either as a very queer Alex Turner fanfiction or do fiction :) I even have a name and I guess I'd prefer fiction.

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for waiting, I've just been very ill for the past week but now I am quite better and yeah:)

Please do feel free to request

It's awful how many stupid heteronormative sexist movies we have, sheesh.

I just just keep rewatching Weekend on repeat.

Thank you:)


Friday, 30 November 2012

drive to recast

They had slapped the door in my face.

I think after a while they had realized with all my three brothers they had enough grandchildren and I’d be the naked branch for them.

They had let me in a year later.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been this old.

It felt old.

It had been just a few exchanges and money from them for college, my music hadn’t given me anything yet and the way I coloured with crayons wasn’t too bright.

I want to colour my life in crayons.

I started growing gray, I had laughed more dull.

I had wondered if I had cancer, reading all the leaflets when I was at my GPs and Prince Street should’ve been lit.

I remember wondering how would it be living in Gorgie with Domino’s on the first floor and I wondered how would it be with pizza away so near, would it be like the ocean? I haven’t really gone anywhere besides seeing it from a distance and never holding a map in my hand.

There is nothing to control, just grasp as I had grown older, failing and just going on, making now my own money, the instrument between my legs as I’d eye the people and hold the bow.

It’s a feeling of dismay as we will never be accepted and the table is filled soon enough with children and I just have nothing, too numb for drinks and the crayons all broken with all the paranoia.

My neighboor also plays the cello and she has her hair up and dyed blonde.

We don’t have a Domino’s downstairs and she looks better than I do in her capes with no sleeves and she looks a bit chubby which is funny to how skinny I am these days.

I had my hair cut again at a barbers with men eyeing me for a bit as I had tried to find my credit card emptying my wallet with my driver’s license.

“Cathy.” I heard the woman call me, as she eyed my license and I payed for my cut.

I left, having oral fixation but no desire for cigarettes, just the movements, lighting and exhaling and I pulled my collar up, my fingers playing with my pockets as I wandered to see how Christmas would tackle my city.


I guess I want to go back to something dark and I was trying to find a title through watching different bits of Mulholland Drive.

I'm ill so yeah, a small piece of writing while I'm sleeping.

Feel free to request, Kathy would love it. S'nice to see my characters in my head XD Ok, bed.


drive to recast2

Monday, 26 November 2012

Pale Blue Eyes3

It’s awkward with a bra fitting, feeling that you have no boobs. I feel that and I swallow every time the woman touches my chest to see if they fit and the way she looks at me, people keep complaining that women are bombarded with sexual images, we are and she looks at me as I change and my nipples are too small, it starts being too awkward like when you walk on George street at night and all the women feel naked and you just instantly feel wet down and you’d rip their clothes off, it’s a mental note to all

let’s fuck

and sometimes I don’t want to fuck everyone, actually I don’t want to fuck everyone, well, every woman.

Maybe I should stand in front of a mirror like I did when I was thirteen before I became scared I remember jumping up and down in my Converse before I stopped and said to myself and the me in the mirror who became more pale and how butch I had looked then

“I’m a lesbian, Alison is a lesbian”

And I started jumping again and I left home for a while to ask a girl for a fag and she lit it for me and we just stood there, once you’re out you know who is a lesbian and not, you’re proud and you know who likes vaginas as much as you do and she had been taller, maybe my age and I looked at her skirt and I wanted to lift it up, push my fingers inside her and make out with her, I ended up nearly burning my lips off and I just kept staring at her with those rings

Fuck me

I went back home and I stood in front of the same mirror, pressing my forehead against the cool reflection of a beautiful woman wanking, I looked at my fingers stroking myself in the reflection and I kept thinking that it would be another woman and I pressed myself harder, touching my entrance, thrusting, moaning hard, rubbing my breasts or what I had of them harder and harder, I was losing my balance and I started thinking of a girl on her knees and how I press my juices against her mouth and how good it feels with her tongue


And then she pushes me on the floor

“I like girls” and that gets me near with her pale blue eyes

and she presses her clit against me

and I scream


rant that I want more

And by the end I stand up alone, mirror having a stream of liquid and the rug smelling of my lost desire and my hair a mess

I knew I was a lesbian when I was thirteen
and old

before the hammer of homophobia struck my jaw and made me lose a few teeth

Sunday, 25 November 2012

There Is Something About Jack White 3

I remember how I met Jack White it had been when and I guess I still do call him sometimes Jack White in my mind because it sounds nicer, I had known him as John for a brief period, just briefly, when he had introduced himself muttering John and sipping his coke anxiously, something on his mind and we both shifted in the queue for chips.

I had met him when I had just had about the first girlfriend which had black hair to a side and I think I had just dated her because the word lesbian would be only applied to er on the only women I knew. Jamie had invited her and we ended up talking as she closed her eyes and muttering the ice clinging against the walls of the glass about her girlfriend. It had been exciting to touch and I guess it had been in the end all about just having a girl rather than anything else.

So we just stood in the queue, Jack biting the straw, hands in pockets, glasses on him and I was infront with Jamie speaking something into his mobile, biting his lip to blood and I had turned around and started talking to Jack about what would he have, it had been a bit too normal to talk to him even if at that point it had been just gibberish about ketchup versus mayo and that I was a vegan so he had to expect me just to eat the chips and he got himself a beef burger. In the end I would quickly steal a bite when we started dating but that was later when I would have his glasses on and he had a few rings scattered on his fingers and looking further to something else.

The girl had asked me about how had it been to meet Jack White and I just shugged as she stood in an apron and a stripy dress, Jamie sitting on the sofa rereading Kerouac and sometimes quoting aloud and we would all just nod and maybe clap our hands, laugh and go back to try and mix the mojito the girl was doing. By the end of our dating I was the one who ended up dying her hair blonde, leaning her hair back and seeing that her black roots wouldn’t fade and I keep seeing that even if I meet her now her roots would still be a bit darker but instead she goes maroon now with another girl with blonde hair and big teeth.

I met Jack after I had finished with the girl with him poking the ad for some new recipe in Friday’s and we both took nachos.

“Jamie said you were a lesbian.” I was expecting a smirk but instead he ordered and I just watched my fingers pointing exactly at the food I wanted to see in my mouth soon as we both took nachos, we ate the nachos in silence and I recall him wearing a red shirt with jeans, legs crossed and he always looked ahead besides when he looked at me and smiled.

“Yeah.” I said as if just a minute had passed and I brushed my hair with my fingers hastly, quickly managing to try and bite half a finger as well. “Just broke up.”

“Oh.” Jack said quickly lifting himself up and waving to some redheaded woman and fell down again, sighting, exhausted and putting his arms around his eyes as if he were expecting to fall asleep and that his chair would turn into a bed, it didn’t.

“Last nacho?” White asked still looking at the woman, I expected it to be a former lover because everyone is. Jack looked at me and my shifting and forced laughter at some ballon going up and popping.

“S’fine. I’d fuck Jamie.” He ate the last nacho and I just smiled, looking down, wondering if I had ordered the right thing. I poked the table with the fork, feeling uneasy from people trying to find an excuse to say to my sexuality.

“Sorry.” He coughed, gulping down the coke and it felt like an old high school date, only I’d give him a bowtie, for a brief second I felt disgust but I gulped it down, looking at him sigh and the abyss of silence between us between the wonder where all the food had gone.

I had ended up meeting Jamie and eaten an apple on the couch, most likely my food had arrived then as I left before the main course.


I've written it back a few months ago all together, so yeah:D I hope you're enjoying it so far and I love the story well, yeah, as it takes a different turn from what I was writing usually, now everything is a pussy fest XD

Feel free to request:3


There Is Something About Jack White 4

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Before The Stripes2

I stayed at my parents for a few more nights as I had a hungover. I think I ending getting a bug and I just recall as if like a scene from a movie people would put mashed potatoes in front of me.

I remember when I just moved in my flat, mom told me to buy loads of potatoes that they are cheap and that you can do anything with them.

I guess we were having a rough time. I try to avoid buying potatoes for my home, before dinner I headed out and I met up with Brian and he lent me a cigarette as I tried to save up my own and I had spend too much money on booze. The point of booze was, you end up screwing too much money on it, true, it drains your memory and the cheaper the faster it will get to your head even with a shot. I’ve seen some even get just one shot, get enough pissed and sting onto someone else and get a second and so on.

Or just mix two things too quickly.

Brian just kept talking and I just watched as we walked on the street and I looked how night coloured the day and how the lights would go on and how some women would undress themselves for the men or maybe even women, some things had been whispered to me in school.

We went into the bar and I ended up drinking from Brian’s beer and then he had drank from my own and I looked at the bar girl with her hair in two ponytails and I found myself looking at her skirt.

I ended up winking at her and she just interpretated it as another drink and this one would be me and Brian sharing the alcohol along with the price.

I went into the bathroom and I wanted to scream.

I ended up vomiting, I might have had tempearture and after a while, I headed out, waving to the girl, having nothing in my mind but I had made it to my apartment with unmade chairs and after a very long rest I made a few chairs and fixed old to see the sun rip through the curtains which were stained.

I went to wash my face and I had falled asleep on the toilet, humming something.

The next week my mother had taken me to a doctor.


I'll be honest this took me quite a while to figure out what to write, as I've been writing more and more fiction and yeah. I was really thinking where I want to go with this and I don't think I want it too long as it's getting a bit troublesome, but I quite love it, so yeah xD

Feel free to request

Thank you


Wednesday, 14 November 2012



Through out our life, due to media, due to influence, due to many things we get the wrong opinions.

We fuck up.

I grew up in homophobic and transphobic places, I've said things I regret deeply.

Genitalium is one of those.

I kept it throughout the years without revision and it was my mistake and it was obviously a widely read story and remained as one of my most-read.

Now it's finally gone. I didn't even know how to continue it for years actually. Because it has no ending, because the ending is in every fucking cissexist/transphobic female out there.

Thank fuck and bye, Genitalium.

Maybe one day I'll be pissed off enough and take some transman story I'm writing and place it here as a proper spin-off of the disaster that once was, who knows, that will tick off those who sent me death threats.

In the mean-time, here's some actual great trans romance:

Stale Smoke In A Running Circle
Joyce, Joyce
An Ode
Sultry Room
PDD or Hypoxyphilia

Monday, 12 November 2012

Used Lighter6

Alison comes back and it’s winter all over again and I see Alexander smoking on the window sill as he watches her and how she puts some mail through him and he looks at her sighting, his hand trying to lift her chin up and he drops it to just walk through the walls.

We drink tea just to heat up in an apartment with barely any windows and I expose my breath expecting to see smoke from my mouth and Alison sits still in her coat, the wet snow covering her hair and hood and she crosses her legs.

I smile at her and we both take hands.

“I went to church.” She says and pokes her right fang as she opens her mouth and I wonder if we should actually still keep brushing our teeth and how many of our habits are left for us to live with since we cannot die and I recall how me and Alison went to a skating ring, laughing and actually managing to skate fast and trip on each other just to walk back home and glance at our store closed due to the late time.

“I thought the church had been closed for both of us.” I swallow and she just shakes her head.

“No. The church should be open for everyone, I also had the thought and I hadn’t been in it for years.” Alison fixes her hair, a strand back and the rest in the front, eyes shaking. “I mean there is so many things the church says not to do that you don’t even feel welcome, you just feel everyone judging you as if that’s it, there’s no way back. You’re dead, you’re in hell, you’re suicidal, you’re homosexual, God doesn’t want you. But what if there is no God? What if God still created vampires..I don’t know.”

And Alison closes her eyes and I stare at her for a straight hour not knowing my own reaction to the church besides staring at the renewed monument from afar with her wondering if it were from the same stone which Alexander might’ve used and I could see him immersing from it, like slime and dragging me into a fast dance, him dancing backwards, the ultra dead and he is pulling me faster and faster into the fire I don’t burn and into the needles which do not hit the heart, the shards of broken crosses which just make my eyes ache.

Alexander comes to me dressed as a priest, teeth armored with grief and he pours hot water both over me and Alison.

“Welcome to Christnening.” And Alison stares at the nothing she doesn’t see as our bedcovers dry instantly but the heat is kept.

She lurches and stops, holding her hand with her throat.

I see Alexander holding a big cross above his head and then slamming it into the floor into the hole he falls as it mends itself up and I start screaming as if he is pulling my mouth with his fingers from behind and I see my eyes turn round to see myself kissing Alison, a married couple, us under the veil and her tongue sharp going into my nose and I open my eyes to see the fingers stretching my mouth until it cracks and Alexander is with the bat again slamming me on the head this time for a dream.


It's weird with the fact that a lot of stuff that has been in the queue was written before and this would be one of it. I forgot that I had written it along with the previous chapter perhaps even on the same day, so yeah:3 I barely remember what I've written which is weird. Callie pokes me sometimes about some part which was good and I can't remember XD neither do I draft so yeah XD

Basically feel free to request


Sunday, 11 November 2012


I end up getting beer as it tastes odd, I take off my hat for a second and I light a cigarette, waiting for Alison to stumble, instead she gets an empty table and starts smoking smoke rings. I wonder when does Jack come in and sweap her and how will the kiss last on her lips, if it will slip away.

In the end I see Alison picking up her mobile and dialing something, talking, laughing, eyes closed, no difference sober or drunk.

The beer tastes odd and I just felt like taking some in a cheap bar she had chosen and something which didn’t require us to count money in our head but instead point at all the drinks and get cheap combinations.

I guess that’s how beer should taste.

I can’t stop staring at her.

I think she notices me but I just drink the beer, so I should get going, but I don’t know what would happen, so I light another cigarette and Jack ends up showing up.

He pats my shoulder.

“Oi, why you leaving Alison alone?” He’s like a little devil, as if the elections are now upon us and he tilts my shoulder and yanks me with him pulling me towards him and Alison.

I end up sipping my beer, not even saying hello.

“Oh, I was trying to reach you.” Alison giggles and kisses me on the cheek, harder and she looks drunk while Jack seems sober and quite stiff before he feels more comfortable and relaxes into the sofa.

The question doesn’t rise why am I here, Jack in the end leaves us for the bathroom and Alison lies on the table and I shift my hand digging into her hair.

“How much did you drink?” I ask her swiftly, pulling her up to see her arrows smudged and she just grins, eyes closed, maybe in some drunken slumber when you’re still real.

“Eeenough.” She grins.

Jack comes back.

I should get them both back. I could carry her, it’s a weird emotion to just grab and swing through with the baby in your arms, we give children the innonce we lack, but the child is the son of a man, a quote I won’t recall who shall it be from.

In the end both me and Jack part in silence before the hotel.

Jack knows I’m jealous but pulls me out of the room and I stand there, hoping to get back to London.

The door is shut anyway, as much as I am open to Alison, so is she.


Monday, 5 November 2012

Stale Smoke In A Running Circle7

I just stared at Jamie for a longer while as Thom and Alex ended up playing scrabble, Alex smiling at me, inviting me over but instead me and Jamie ended up heading out and buying some beer, a weird choice for us instead of cheap wine, but on the way Jamie stopped.

“I might be gay.”

And then he just looked down.

“Look, he’s not the first guy.” He swallowed. “Remember Peter?”

Jamie raised his eyes.

He bit his lips and nodded.

“Fucked as well.” It wasn’t making any sense.

“So why did you call me over then?” I mumbled now clutching his arms at both sides, shaking myself, looking up.

I love you, I love you, I love you

I ended up just staring at his torn sneakers.

“I love you too.” He squeeks.

We end up kissing.

I don’t know what’s going on.

His tongue is inside my mouth.

His erection is against my hip. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jamie starts biting my neck lower and lower, avoiding my breasts, we’re in the street, but there’s too many evidence of sexual activity these days, maybe the future is here. He starts stroking me quite roughly.

“You always acted like a bloke.” Jamie pushes my head further as he licks it.

“I love you.” He mumbles.

I just stop and I don’t do anything, he pulled me into the alleyway and he closes my mouth as I come screaming with tears slicing my skin.

It’s not just about me, it’s about him being gay and me

It’s like someone calling you a gentleman and you think you’re doing it wrong.

Saturday, 3 November 2012

High Addiction 2

She gets scared of turbulence and I just get more turned on as her curls swing with the turbulence and I recall how was it coming out with all the shocks, yells and accusations of not acceptance and even partners or people who presumed how the word would spread in circles and the phobia would circle the streets even if it would be London with its scene I would still press my hands against my ears.

The woman rubs her ring and I keep glancing at her breasts.

In the end I take my bag and I go towards the restroom, I close the door and I take a shaver from the bag, which I use for my legs, how I had let it in was the fact that I had used my brother’s electric shaver and what if I had been transitioning even if I’m not. I look at myself wondering how would I look with a stubble as I press the shaver against my forehead turn it on

Everyone just wants a kiss or a glance

I want a relation and I do not want to be single

So I open my eyes and my hair starts falling off even if I am already short haired and young, I watch it fall upon my nose and I laugh as it makes a moustache and I start crying as they declare turbulence again and I am left with sideburns.

The thought that we might die escalates my mind and crushes me with another lurch and then the seatbelts are declared off with apologizes and I expect more orange juice and I head out, my head shaved and I just sit besides her as she raises her eyes and I smile.

She smiles back, still twitching her ring.

I want that woman as a woman.

Women are full of beauty I’m not lying to anyone, it’s not narcissism, it’s the way I was born just as people do not want children, I want a woman and I stare at her as she stands up to make way to me.

I am wearing a bra even if my own breasts are small. I swallow and she is taller than me even in her flats, just a bit taller and I want that woman. I eye her and I want to lick her whole porcelein body and see her reactions and how her cunt looks and I hesitate at my own rude words and the only word which matches my mind is actually to fuck her.

She is staring at me like this pin up Goddess and I look at her slim waist and I see her in corsets and tied up and all wet as I spread out her legs and lick and she ooohs gasping, looking at me, pleading and then I yank her corset off as she gasps and I kiss her all over, bend her knees and start pressing my self against her, leaning back as she stares at my breasts and pulls them.

I open my eyes realised that I have dazed off in my dream and she taps my shoulder as I look at her ring and I want to pin her down even if she might be twice my age. I’ve never felt so wet in my life and I look at the chucked out heels.

“I’m Alison.” I tell her, my gray hoodie unzipped and I don’t even know which band t-shirt I have on as I look into her eyes full of sex and I just want to at least lick her neck.

I want you, woman.

I want to pin her down.

“Dita.” She smiles and she leaves to the bathroom. After standing for a while I go back and I wait for her to exit hoping that no one else comes and I slide my hand through my hair wondering what the hell did I just did as I recall myself blowing at the entire hair.

I bang the door and she opens, everything down, including her black thong and she smiles at me as I look at the trail of cum between her and the fabric.

I go in and stop at my knees, her long nails press against my cheeks.

We stare well, more like her pussy stares at me and leaks with juice.

“Well...” She says and then lowers her head to my level, she strokes my head and I gulp as he hesitates but plants a kiss upon my lips and digs her nails deeper in my cheeks, most likely leaving marks and I slide my tongue in, moaning.

She gasps as I motion her to stand up and I give her a strong lick and she screams, clutching the sink and I smile, kissing her cunt and sucking it lightly. I glance at her green stone ring, maybe an emerald or something cheaper, I’m not one to wear rings.

I press my head away as she gasps.

“Are you married?” I left the question to whisk in her mind.

“No.” Dita gasps and her legs are shaking from the passion I’ve given with my tongue. “I got that ring from my parents ages ago.”

She bites her lips.

“Ok.” And I continue licking harder and harder until she comes and she clutches my now shaved head.

Her legs go around my neck and rest on my shoulders as I plant soft kisses and she keeps stroking me and raises me above by my shoulders, undoes my bra, kisses my cheek, undoes my jeans, slips her fingers into my self and starts rubbing, tugging, playing with my clit as she makes out with me and I just nug her down, sad, depressed, the turbulence sometimes returning and she sees my reaction and slips everything down from her and presses herself against me.

“Look, I’m yours.” And she thrusts and I moan as our wetness rubs and she keeps working on my entire body harder and harder until I moan in her mouth and she sweetly presses her fingers against my self and licks her fingers, tugging me in closer to her, as if tugging me in to sleep in a public airplane bathroom.

“I always wanted a butch woman to come and take me away.” I just close my eyes and let her night take me away as well.


I actually wrote this chapter back as pages tells me 2 september and it's been waiting ever since XD don't kill me:) Sometimes I write stuff ahead and then it waits for its time to be published due to the queue xD I'd like to say thank you as I always do:3

Thank you:3

I hope you're enjoying it so far:3

Feel free to request!!!


High Addiction 3

Friday, 2 November 2012

working mica

Take a cherry, squeeze it out and I will promise you,

You will get drunk

With the scene and all the girls in a row

And my blonde wig which sometimes goes in a curl up to my knees and I will be given kisses you will never dream of, brief from all women running in a circle, all the men stretching out their hands as glitter falls and lands on your lips just to be eaten by the next person and then you take a peach

to ripe your dream and eat a feast.

You leave with a newspaper in hand from here, you sit in the cloudy room, full of clouds a sky which will echo your soul and you will sit there until you are allowed to leave that’s when all your devices are handed back to you, sweetheart.

You are no longer covered in glitter and you walk out to whatever you are supposed to walk out and if it is tomorrow your tomorrow’s choice of clothes will be handed ironed fresh from your wardrobe to you and you will only remember the stripes of these walls as you walk on further you will recall the faces, the lips and how nude you feel without the make up, a lot find the need to come back, a lot just head over to boots to buy some purple Clinique, some make it their own, we’re all not the same, we go into our own tomorrow’s where I might sell you pizza or you will be given me the naked ladies maybe none of us will be gay like those rumours of Romeo and Romeo who saw himself in the aquarium, a perfect illusion, a same and a different man.

Here sexuality is not a sin but a pleasure to tickle your feathers and your hairs, a strip of hair is between your legs eventually or you may have it shaved or your balls or anywhere you wish, as explicit and you will pay your applause to the screen and these stripy walls which have the black and white choke not only the sides but the ceiling and the floor you step upon and the curtains a blood red with a dark purple ribbon with it’s sides up to the floor which I shall pull apart as my corset collapses

And seven blonde men look at me

And I’ve got fake eyelashes on with plastic transparent heels and no underwear so I do not turn and they all clap one by one, all with blonde curls and men are in my taste sometimes among all the women which a young lesbian desires.

All are labels.

Bisexuality is the sin and the rule, queer, we should all be queer to make your present cheeks blush as you walk out and you recall all those you kissed and all those who let your fingers dig deeper inside back or front.

Remember you are a star ready t burst and die all the red blood to leak and deour the floor, an autopsy you’ll perform upon yourself for this place to leak, vomit and cease, there is no death, no life and no

I wave my hands

It’s not a wave but rather observation as I stroll, my legs not aching from the high heels, it’s like pain turning into pleasure and I look at the amount of men today, leaning against a table, the hair trying to fall but still sticking to it’s place as I take a cherry left from an alcoholic cocktail and the alcohol stings in my throat as I raise my eyes to look behind all the lipstick and all the people who twirl and the glitter which falls today onto the floor to a man on the top, his room touching the ceiling as I get another cherry before a male waiter takes the glasses and I see him and eventually I see the man as a woman, maybe all is turned into illusion to satisfy the mind and sex, as I see the woman with the hair combed to a side singing, I stand up in a chair, with no drugs involved this place is like an euphoria and orgasm and I look at the masculine female, the plastic ham behind her glittering on a ceramic blue plate and I see myself against the window as if I’d be a child and I could watch her smoke.

I see her with the old microphone, shirt unbuttoned and I peek to try and see her breasts and I want to see her feel our kiss without glass as I see the room scattered with paper and she rolls the movies at seven and I just lean against the wall with the stars scribbled upon in an expensive manner and I end up going towards the staircase to reach her posters scattered upon the walls.

She doesn’t sing but her mouth is open and I look at her, undoing my corset and she keeps her mouth open, her hair slowly falling onto her eyes like a curtain, I restrict myself and just loosen up my corset instead.

The woman looks down at all the six other blonde men below, being one of the newcomers who find interest in the room, has a need and the woman lights a cigarette, takes out some money and slams it upon the table behind me and fiercely sticks her hand into my underwear as I moan, she bites my neck, making me thrust against her hand as she undoes her pants, licking my neck.

“Scream Margaret.” She asks her eyes blue as she tears my underwear and kisses me softly, spreading my legs and groping my body, undoing her pants and a strap on being on her she slides in, the odd purple colour on her and she turns on the vibration, moaning, sweat forming on the woman who asked me to call her Margaret and she fucks me hard, I keep moaning, watching the crowd glitter upon the floor as it changes to black and white stripes and eventually I and Margaret come and I scream the name a few times before she removes the strap on and presses her clit against my own, taking all of her clothes and cutting my corset open with her fingers as I observe the rings on her fingers gasping louder as her tongue goes in me.

I observe her rather large breasts which I didn’t notice from the tight clothing and I pull her head with my legs, stroking her hair and smashing myself against her mouth until she sits up, licks her lips and fingers me again before positioning herself against me, scissoring and she screams, sweat becoming water as she cannot hold herself, maybe it’s her first time with a woman I think as I watch her come and I come after her, pulling her by the arm and she falls on me, kissing my neck’s skin all over and stopping to lie there for an hour, I don’t ask anything, I just timidly stroke her hair as I watch the purple dildo vibrate.

It’s about kissing briefly when you don’t know where you’re headed and in the end the woman who asked for Margaret stands up, a bit of sweat still covering her back and she slams the curtains closed not to see the bar and the new people and the six men lean their head down and she sits back on the table where we just fucked and I look at her as if I would see her sleeping on her job, eyes both closed but wide open from all the hair even if no longer combed as if I could’ve been on  bus which had the back doors open as venders would walk in and sell fruits and walk out before the colours on the traffic lights would change and the woman would stand up, carefully fix the dark blue fabric and in the need of a smoke exhale and I would go back out to the city with some gold spread out but not on the people to never have fear upon their throats even if we all know something will split open.

Margaret lights a cigarette, watching the smoke instead of exhaling and catching the smoke with her bare lips, her legs crossed and I look at how her skin resembles a ripe peach colour and she raises her head as high as she can and blows a smoke ring as if it would fall and suffocate her to leave death upon my bed and under my nails for spiders to crawl in so that I would scream.

“Why do you have short hair?” I ask her all of a sudden watching her trying to see if her hair is in place and then she just looks down.

“What? Is it wrong to have hair like a man because I am a woman?” Margaret asks pointing down briefly towards the floor and her body, her head still up with blue eyes piercing me with a glare so I just stop briefly, repeating my question despite the rough remark she made.

“I just like it. Sexy.” She stretches out the word and I just nod, it’s not my fault and I just play a bit with my wig.

“Leave and take it.” Margaret says not knowing if I took the money as she opens the curtains and all the men are scattered for the woman to see and she keeps smoking until I leave going down and slowly taking off the wig to see my reflection once I get to the room, my hair nearly shoulder length since the shave and I just lean back, wondering why should all women who are gay look like men instead of looking like women, we are just the same, I’m not saying women who want to look like men shouldn’t, I just find it odd wanting to be a man whilst not being attracted to them as well, what is the meaning for that, although it might be a straight man in a woman’s body and I kept applying powder on once side of my face until half of it covered how pale I looked and the other looked how pale I should be and I blow upon my face, the powder staying and applying the rest to paint the lips for whomever wishes to be next or merely watch, entertain or even doodle whilst carrying a drink.

I sigh, counting the lights again which frame the mirror and the feather smile which hang from the ceiling and some try to form patterns on the floor but the cleaners take them off before I notice and I count once more.

I look at how black the hair seems now, growing as if it were a sin and I see that day again, how I strolled back home through the useless bookstores which charged you double, stuffed with books and alien to customers peeking up from their books and staring as if you had walked into a personal library and they would be shy to ask you what are you doing in their homes and they clung onto the books with claws and all the books are scattered and the dust doesn’t even smell it just clings onto people.

There are also people on the street with their couches turned to the wall and they stare and you just fumble past, I hadn’t touched my hair since I had braided it in the morning and I hadn’t touched it, I just felt it against my face as the movement was resumed.

The night followed by the day, a gay friend of mine pushing me into my first gay bar, past the sparkles splattered on the door and the glitter on the tables from a left over party and the discoball hanging loose and women and men clinging onto their sex there had been a same sex couple making out and I just stood there with alcohol in my hand jealous and my friend for the sake unmentioned we both stood silent, sometimes everything was a sin in everyone’s eyes. I had stared at the brave women with their hands and their hair entangling and I recall that I had seen maybe one of two short haired women which would look a bit like men how I’d been told.

I leaned closer against the table, my back digging into it and the two women, with the light going on and off, each time it went on it was like a flash and the two women kissed me on both cheeks, leaving dark purple lipstick and then traveling to my lips in the next flash before going to the other lesbians and eventually fading in the small crowd leaving me to be like a druggie staring at the bong in front of me or yoghurt can and I just looked at people lighting cigarettes instead, the view of something burning easing me.

Eventually I had left, stopping near the house and trying to clean off the vulgar lipstick and eventually I had even snuck in somewhere and started scrubbing off the makeup even harder up to the point that I had walked up home with a heavy fake blush and I walked into my room, feeling lonely and scared from the first step, pressing my self against the pillow as my brother walked in.

I open my eyes to look at the light and wondering if the mirror reflects the lightbulbs and I tried to catch an angle but couldn’t and sighted my head falling into my arms and soothing like a lollypop.


I couldn't decide where would I end the chapter so basically this is all I've written so far and yeah, I want to write more lesbian fiction so there XD this is what I can do if you request more and please please request the next chapter XD I hope you're as desperate to read more as I am to write more XD

As for the title mica is a mineral which you can leaf quite easily and glimmers and it's latin for chunk and might possibly be latin for shimmer as well as far as I recall:) Yes, I like dictionaries so there XD


I'm off to bed now, I mean it XD


and thank you for the confidence


working mica2

Thursday, 1 November 2012


I don’t open the envelope I just leave it hanging there on a pin in front of me and Paul walks besides me a few times, not saying anything as I’ve got quite a line today, must have happened something cruel and I keep opening the envelopes today, too many of them and counting the money inside as instructed by Paul.

In the end I look at a lady who starts claiming that she does not understand why her son left his wife for a boyfriend.

I’m gay,

I could’ve said.

I just lick her envelope making sure the money is in place and I let her go through the door.

Once we had a day when only two people died, lucky and me and Paul played darts with the door, since you can’t open it you might’ve as well do a hole to see through.

Paul laughed at my idea, saying that the door might be the same, but what lies within is different for everyone.

People were gone.

Paul put his arms around me.

I open the envelope.

I count the money and it’s not missing anything, it even has a few coins and Paul just sighs.

People don’t let you complain back.

“My cat died.” I’d get told.

“My boss has a hot ass, but I don’t know if he likes me back.” It’s not a question of being gay or not, its whether he likes you back or not, homosexuality is bullshit, it’s people liking people, I know that I like men from within, but in theory I could fall for a woman, the thing that I don’t like women is another thing.

I read in a print out that I’m still gay in the fax machine, some former workers just type up things and leave them there as we just have a few novels and everyone dies all the time anyway.

People don’t listen even if your cat died, no matter who died or not, no one listens, Paul listened biting his lip.

“It’s you.” Paul says. “You’ve been promoted.”

“But aren’t you the boss, man?” I say looking a bit up, but he’s looking ahead and I try to kiss him but he’s too distant.

“Yeah, but you’re above me.” And he tightens his grip on me, opening the door, grabbing the envelope, counting.

He just holds the door handle and smiles at me.

We don’t say anything.

We don’t know anything besides playing darts, drinking coffee and our job because that’s what we got here.

I get a suitcase and a hat which I discard and I hug Paul and kiss him sweetly.


And that's chapter two feel free to request xD


Saturday, 27 October 2012

She drains the sun.3

She starts laughing and sits up and I stare at her chest and how the sun goes through the window and she smiles at me, colliding with the light.

Then the red haired woman takes my hand and strokes it, closing her eyes, dipping in the sunlight which among the rainy days seems rare and how the fog had taken over Edinburgh for the past few days where I had just wanted to lay in bed but instead my need had taken over and I’d been fucking other girls literally.

She stands up and undoes the curtains looking outside, hands crossed over her chest.

“Don’t you just hate heteronormativity?” She says all of a sudden and I stand up to see what she sees. All I see is people scattered but I just can’t give a damn, yeah, we’re all closeted to some extent, but I can’t say I hold any hate.

That’s what I say to her.

“Sometimes I wish I could just grab someone and murder.” She laughs, hair in eyes. “I mean, we’re still the deviants and freaks. I was sitting in the bus and this man kept talking how he met this guy who was typically gay and stereotypical and how annoying we were. Looks like he’s never touched a woman besides his hand in a wig from all the fallen pubic hair.”

“We can’t go radical because of that. I’m just used to shagging without caring.” I smirk, looking outside already seeing a couple.

“I ended up in an accident with a girl. She was accused of homophobia but things got out of hand. I ended up killing her but she was the one who pounced on me. Felt like I could go out. Never made it on the news, some small article on the Metro. People don’t just care anymore.”

I stare at the woman.

“When was that?” I ask her.

“Ten years ago.” She smiles. “I started stabbing her. We had been in the kitchen, she was my sister before I was going to university. I ended up quitting after a few years, I wanted to study LGBT instead of some boring men who would dump women and how everything would work.”

She exhales.

“That’s why I like selling ice cream now, no now knows me. I’m just like Kevin Spacey in American Beauty, I can’t stand it. Only I’m actually gay if I get killed and I’ve got enough murders on my fingers to lick off in job interviews.” She just keeps looking down, the sun going a bit off, but still in her red hair. “I’m Karen.”

I shake her hand.


She continues staring at the street, knowing that we’re the gays.


I SPENT ALL WEEK THINKING HOW THIS WOULD TURN OUT I GO FOR A NAP AND I CHUCK OUT ALL THE OTHER IDEAS XD anyway, I'm pretty content with this chapter and I'm sorry no sex scenes but there will be more XD YAY xD

Feel free to request the next chapters:3

Thank youuu:3


Tuesday, 23 October 2012


I couldn’t stay at Jamie’s for long so I had to back to my parents each day and the first time had been obscure.

I sat watching my brother eating quietly my parents discussing what had been in their heads and what roamed in the streets.

“Dreams are too real, they are pictures which you want to come true.” I had Jamie’s voice in my head and his lips on my cheeks, lips and how he had licked me briefly on the clit. I couldn’t hold myself. I had wanted more, I wanted to pull his hair, exposing his neck, feast on it, licking, hearing him moan, go down.

I felt awkward I felt different, if you have sex with the right person your vision changes, you become closer with the right person and I was awkward. My parents had sex. Matthew just kept chewing, eyes down maybe he had also sneaked out to meet someone but he just kept looking down.

I felt as if I would be grabbed by both legs and taken on the table, spread out and the whole inside me would be seen, that there is a path inside to me which Jamie built on. I wonder how his first time went, I couldn’t think of any analogy how would it be to a man, I could be checked, I could be pregnant, but then he could be checked as well.

I couldn’t eat longer I could feel his hands -

I masturbated in the shower, red faced and wanting more.

When everyone fell asleep I ended up opening the water and calling him.

“Hi.” I mumbled, whispering.

Jamie had been drinking something.

“Hey.” He said.

I smiled, the tiles cold and easing as I pressed my legs together feeling myself sliding into something cold, the floor but I could hear Jamie slide in how much booze he drank and what he had heard. In the end he took his guitar, I heard his matches and he soon enough started smoking.

I think I fell asleep as Matthew had laughed, muffling his voice.

He picked up the phone and I snatched it from him.

My brother raised his hands.

Jamie was there.

“I love you.”

We hung up.

The next day we made love again, it was like a drug, painful, consuming, it was sex. You can’t get enough, you surrender to your partner and it is a fucking equal game. It had still been painful but I ended up not caring glancing down to see him inside me, both soaked up and tongues intertwined, it had been more than sex, I had gone on top, he had shoved me against the pillow, raising my head, taking me from behind, licking my neck.

It had even ended up with sex and music. A few hours a day we’d be given and Jamie would flick an old vinyl he had taken from a neighbor who had died or not cared or a used CD and he would go inside.

A cigarette would be even smoked during sex and quickly describing the pub, missing and Matthew, my parents choices of clothes.

Then Jamie had mentioned his family coming over, handing me the cigarette.

“Embarrassing eh?” He smirked. Jamie went back to bed as I left.

The man pounded on the window grinning at me as I left in his unzipped old hoodie, the zipper was long gone. I just hid the sweater in my backpack in the subway and slept until my stop.


Friday, 19 October 2012

Dagger In My Head3

It’s amazing how naive women actually are.

Kate ends up showing after the concert again and taking off all her clothes as I trace my lips on her hands as she lifts them up maybe pray for a God which she does now which doesn’t exist, Kate from all people should no that no sin will send you to a place which actually doesn’t exist.

It’s amazing that men and women who presume to be straight see the opposite gender as an object, but in homosexuality we still do, we just shove them away and have relations with people we love and trust to some extent.

Just like I do Kate.

I tilt her head, lick her neck up to her lips.

It’s amazing what hate can do to you.

The deal was simple.

I grab her lips.

She doesn’t want Jamie for me, simple, she gives me herself in exchange.

Once, after every concert instead of going to an after party and getting drunk with her husband she uses her fingers to thread her own problems away and swallow them, the parasite inside her, so that she could avoid it by smiling, so that no one would she the lack of teeth and tongue if the mouth is closed.


I was thinking I'll look through the previous chapters and sleep with an idea and write in the morning, but I actually failed XD so here is the latest chapter feel free to request the next:) I hope you're enjoying it!


Wednesday, 17 October 2012


Jamie then stares at both of us and I don’t think he came, maybe we are starting to be too excited and then Kate throws herself on her knees and starts sucking off Hince.

I see him close his eyes and holding her face, holding it quite harshly and I wonder what and how does it feel. I just stare as both have their eyes close and I want to touch Kate, but I don’t in the end, just leaving them there.

In the end he comes and screams, thrusting harder in Kate’s mouth and kisses her on the mouth. Then he looks at me, maybe hinting that I am the third wheel and that I should just wrap up my clothes and leave.

Kate walks over to me, neatening her hair, running her fingers through it and kisses me hastily on the lips and I try to catch them for longer.

“Well, I guess that was good.” Jamie says rubbing his eye and Kate just smiles at me.

I try to smile back.

“Should I go?” I gulp and just stand there looking at Kate’s used gold coat and Jamie dropping off the condom into the garbage. I might’ve just been on the pill, for whatever reason the fact that me and Kate didn’t use a dam could’ve been the same for Jamie, but I try to shrug it off, feeling rather odd.

I come over to him and kiss him, he doesn’t really kiss back, I guess all the pieces fell into place.

I exit the kitchen to leave the lovebirds to make out.

I try to make myself look fresher in the bathroom and for whatever reason I just start crying, my head bent down as if I could get it chopped off by a guillotine and I just look up, maybe expecting some sign from religion but I believe I’ve committed enough sodomy in this case to simply get sent to hell straight away and I sigh, lonely in this bathroom so that I could turn off the lights and I would still be alone.

I can see Jamie thrusting into Kate as she moans and I wonder if he does it gently and how much he means each thrust in favor to her pleasure.

Sex changes a person even if not the first time, your thoughts are moved after you have good sex, it doesn't have to be the first time it can be any of them.

I apply eyeliner on my eyes, poking my lips enough, brushing my hair with my fingers, Kate’s eyeliner and I start going through the nail bottles and I find the same melon one, no one is looking for me anyway, I’m not the one in marriage.


I hope you enjoyed it and no this isn't the end, there is actually a lot ahead to come XD so please feel free to request the next chapter! Yes, more sex ahead XD


Monday, 15 October 2012

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 10

The way from Edinburgh was even more dull and Alison seemed to have no attention, reading a copy of metro left by someone who had jumped off near the borders and she just kept ignoring me.

I started going insane, walking out for a smoke and she wouldn’t even stare at me. It wasn’t jealousy it was more like obsession over possession and I threw the cigarette in the train trails hoping to be left on this stop and my coat should be enough, with age it had protected me so should be worth something against the cold.

I knocked on her window and I wished that the train would leave and I pressed my cheek against the window, Alison looking at me through her lashes and I wonder if she wanted to slash my life as well.

Instead I just kissed the window and headed back in, telling her that we should indeed start a band as more people were joining in to London.

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 11

Sunday, 14 October 2012

Paper Guns

“Oh my God, I hate Zooey Deschanel!” Jansen exclaims holding her face in her hands, her hair unneatly kept in her bun as I see the other guy from the movie jump around because he got some pussy yesterday and I just end up laughing with her or maybe even with him, but he’s not noticing that I’m laughing at him, instead Jansen looks like she’s seen hell as I pour milk into the bowl, slowly spilling as I see Jansen start making noises so that Zooey would go away.

In the end I just stand up and turn off the television before she actually starts shaking from side to side. I end up poking her temple hard so that she’d snap from her hatred and she throws something at me and I quickly dodge myself from what happens to be a gray sock.

In the end Jansen redoes her bun which makes it look more messy but it doesn’t really look like a bird’s nest even if drenched in black ink. The woman slides against the wall, flicking through channels ending on a weather forecast which hisses no rain and she keeps flicking through Nicki Minaj and more bullshit as I start watching her from the kitchen, eating my cereal spoon by spoon.

“Oi, when is Pixie coming?” I asked, rubbing the milk from my mouth, shivering slightly from the cold, unused to the feeling of morning and lack of snow outside even if it feels like the whole building and people are now made of ice. I hesitate and I end up going to the corridor and stealing Jansen’s bright pink scarf and I breathe no warm air.

“M, I guess in about half an hour.” And she heads into the bathroom most likely to brush her teeth, look up as she does, she also does in the night as the makeup slowly washes off. I used to watch her do it back when we just moved together.

“So, you a lesbian?” She had asked, muffling her voice with toothpaste and she had been wearing silver hoops and my hair had been a bit longer and dyed chestnut brown.

I just hesitated and nodded.

Jansen just spit it out, she had just been Jane then and then she had read this novel and called herself Jansen as well even if she weren’t really masculine but Jansen was something you would never call feminine or masculine, she was just something in between, people would just call her a dyke, but she’d call herself butch even with the skirts, I was the one who wore jeans and would struggle applying something in the first years and Jansen would do it for me.

I had done the wrong motion of giving her mascara and then listened to her saying that she didn’t like mascara besides that purple one she had.

“Good. Me too.” And Jansen had smiled.

“So how is she like?” I say, blushing lightly, I’ve seen Pixie before and I’ve heard Jansen describe her in detail up to her nipples and how their sex had been while I had travelled to London and walked around. As far as I’ve been told they nearly made out on my bed and that had really been it.

“Oh, good, you’ll like her.” Jansen said, looking at her nails.

“So she’s black?” I ask.

“Yeah, for fuckssake.” Jansen sights.

“I’m just-” I’m not racist. “Where is she from?”

Jansen just ignores me and I sigh, putting my bowl back into the sink where I had taken it in the first place.


This is actually more like an experiment really, basically I want to hurl myself back into fiction and point is if you like this please please please request the new chapter XD Basically I want to have fiction on request basis as well and yeah:D

I ended up half sleeping half awake thinking about the plot during a day nap. I don't have a name for the main character yet XD Am I supposed to say the flaws? And Pixie is just her nickname.

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you

Feel free to request fiction XD


Paper Guns 2

Friday, 12 October 2012

I Can't Wait5

If I’d wake up when I was a child and I’d see myself I’d let him play my guitar, wouldn’t matter how many times his fingers would overlap and no more noise would be made as he’d hang it back to me, I’d be happy on both sides.

I see Meg sitting on a table in the cafeteria, flicking through a magazine her hair in a low ponytail as she eats school pasta.

I sit besides her, she’s not among the teachers and I myself am not among the students.

I don’t say anything and she replies mutually as I watch her, as she loosens her hair and Alison is off today, a towel was wrapped around her head as I left her, a cigarette dangling and she kept breathing out smoke through her nose, smirking lightly then she started doing smoke rings as her eyes were red from her insomnia and a starting cold.

Meg was too different from Alison with her skirts and how she had held her fork instead of Alison holding it up ready to slash anyone’s eye like this and that.

“Did you fail yourself as a child?” I ask her, eating my pizza, refusing the meat version as today it seemed odd that they put an uneven amount of meatballs on each slice and the next ones would cover all the cheese and would end up running all over the plate like Mario Kart, as if I’d be young again and I could eat them with my mouth.

“No, I don’t think so.” She says coldly and closes her magazine. Meg keeps chewing looking at me as if she were only older and not a middle school teacher with children just started to sneeze on purpose in class.

She chewed slowly and observing me.

I felt a bit uncomfortable from her edgy stare, not telling me to leave me alone but rather demanding explanation.

In the end Meg returned to her magazine, started shaking her leg as I observed blue heels slowly clicking against the floor under our feet, maybe on the head of a fly in the basement and I wondered how many meatballs I’ve gotten as a child.


I'm sorry I've been awfully busy with my studies lately but now I'm finally on holiday, sleeeeeeep :3


I Can't Wait6

Sunday, 30 September 2012

The Blunderbuss Angel said The Union is Forever 4

The first time I’ve tried a dress the zipper was a bit too loose, making me wonder if the woman who had left it might’ve been pregnant as I wandered into the closet, closing myself inside to feel as if the dress had licked everything inside.

I slid in the dress, taking off all my clothes, feel uneasy with my body for a mere second and I walked out, opening the window, leaning out to smoke a cigarette and look at how hairy my legs seemed to be today and I wished I had lipstick but piercing my lips to make them bloody so that I would be a bleeding woman
from a distance didn’t matter.

I ended up having an erection, aroused as the alarm clock seemed to lull on the table as I glared at it, it’s arousing being yourself, not in the sexual way but in the soothing way.

I watched the man walk out from his office, waving his hands around, a cigarette dangling from his lips like a bad escape method and I watched him for a while, in the end raiding my bags for a camera and I had caught him on a slide

as he looked upon the castle which his building was shielding and then the majesty was resurrected.

Thursday, 27 September 2012

Broken Black Varnish Requiem 4

“I was thinking.”

He grabs some print outs and I close my eyes.

“Yeah, same.” I reply, lips pressed and nearly praying to no God on earth but just to myself and his eyes.


“Not a donor?” I open my eyes exhaling, relaxed. My fear of being pregnant released as well as I do not want any hint of another man inside me.

“Fuck no!” Alex says biting his lip harshly and I kiss him. We start kissing a bit too lustfully as I take off his sweater and my tongue is too deep as I start taking off his jeans.

“I-” I start saying.

“It’s fine that it took you a year. You were on the thing with studies, chill, chill.” He soothes me, his hands strolling through my own, kisses fluttering. I hesitate and stare at the ceiling which ends up being his own eyes.

“Yeah. That’s good, great.” I mean it, trembling.

Alex is nearly crying.

In the end we both end up howling with tears and make more love in the end.

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Broken Black Varnish Requiem 3

The sky highlights itself during the rain in order not to get lost and I keep shifting from tea and the cigarette in hand as Alex tries to find the cookies and I look out on the street with no one besides a car.

In the end he joins me and wraps me up in the cover pink poncho we’ve bought long ago when we moved in and pretended to be a dinosaur under it with no head sticking out as if we’d be younger.

“Going through depression like the rest?” Alex smirks and drinks a bit of tea and gives me half a cookie, putting his arm around my shoulder. I hesitate and loosen up.

I sigh.

“Everyone starts being lonely and gloomy, as if there is nothing and you actually figure what if drugs are the only source of happiness for them.” I smirk. “Maybe we should legalize to avoid depression.”

Mindless chatter as I see Jack park the car and tilt his hat as he goes under the rain, opens the umbrella and goes to the trunk of his car, letting his feet into the puddles as he is going to be warm and in the arms of a woman soon and I wonder how many children does he own and how his wife looks as he looks to be a father of many. I look at the bags from toy stores and how he holds something in his mouth.

Jack looks at both of us, spits out, what I believe to be a receipt, nods with his hat falling lightly over his eyes, smirking at the gesture and soon enough he is in leaving the car like a shiny wrapper on the street.

It feels like we’ll never see him again but he goes back on with straps and a light cigarette nearly done and she grins at him, welcoming. The wife, the girlfriend and she kisses him as he quickly glances at me and heads into his own warmth to enjoy and drink.


I have too much dark thoughts in my head xD

I hope you enjoyed it :3

Thank you


Broken  Black Varnish Requiem 4

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Stale Smoke In A Running Circle6

I wake up, both of us on fabric made to be furniture, old and torn and I hear voices which have to be feet which go further into the kitchen and I smile, knowing that it’s Jamie not giving evidence to the second.

I hear a click of a different lighter, maybe Jamie had gotten a new one.

Then they exchange it.

I open my eyes to see Alex dangling and nearly falling off the armchair to see the light of morning and I see both Jamie and the shorter man with absurd dyed blonde hair in black loosen boxers, socks and Jamie actually naked and shivering.

The blonde man laughs at him and then Jamie notices me and the man turns around to smile at me, his crooked teeth showing in curiosity as I notice his wonky eye. He is quite skinny and loose, he inhales the cigarette and walks further into the kitchen, opening the fridge, taking bread out and using the toaster.

Jamie stands there stark naked as Alex makes a move and I see he closes his eyes not to shield himself from Jamie being naked but rather from the scene.

I don’t say anything.

The man doesn’t say anything.

And Alex pretends he is dead.

“I don’t like straight people. Too stuck up.” The blonde starts making himself tea and we all watch him with a leftover bit of his morning erection which he might’ve used and is fading off and we slowly all watch him sip his tea.

“I fucked a man.” Jamie swallows.

“Wrong.” The blonde little man smirks. “I fucked you.”

And then I’d expect Jamie to collapse but instead he puts his hand in front of his cock and the blonde man turns to see him and smiles softly as Jamie is still shivering from inner cold and I see the man just finnish his tea as if he were from Twin Peaks and holds some cold inner self.

He pats Jamie’s shoulder which is taller than he is.

Eventually the blonde heads into the room and manages to find his clothes, puts on a shirt and feels a bit unwanted shuffling between cupboards as he is the leading role right now and we don’t know what to do with him.

Eventually Alex wakes from his slumber and makes his way to the man as they exchange names, Alex and Thom and smile both.

“I’m not gay, but I mean, yeah.” And the man just smiles.

Jamie makes himself some tea as now I am the one on the couch, having Jamie’s shivers and I can’t help but want to glance at Jamie’s ass and see what had happened to it something like blood on a last night virgin’s covers.

In the end Alex and Thom communicate as Jamie sits besides me.

“I’m gay.” He shrugs and I just put my arm around him.

“Doesn’t have to be.” Thom says, struggling. “Yeah, you could be going through a phase.”

Exchanged Thom and Alex laugh. Alex on the anxious side, Thom on the drunken as if they would start dancing and exchanging music vinyls on the side when me and Jamie would close our eyes.

I can’t think properly and neither can Jamie and I just keep glancing at his ass which is hidden away from me.

We all share a cigarette box until it runs out and Tesco seems like another planet and Jamie is as naked as ever as Thom starts dancing to something on television.

Once it were just us two.


I'm actually quite anxious about this chapter as it is quite a turn but I've been very exhausted and I actually managed to fall ill and have a ton of homework and etc and etc and etc

I had the idea of Thom sleeping with Jamie back in the week but I got caught up with everything so yeah, I'm here :D yay XD I hope I'm still loved as I love you :3


Stale Smoke In A Running Circle7

Sunday, 16 September 2012

She drains the sun.2

I end up in the store later with an ice cream not bothering and finnishing it watching as I believe to be a homosexual couple of women as I recall the red haired beauty which I couldn’t just tilt over and go on top, spreading her legs out.

I see the butch woman smile at the femme and I recall how it feels when I was closeted and confused and I would try to understand why I can’t dance with a woman on the dancefloor instead of drinking orange juice with cheap vodka or some other alcohol in and I wish she would’ve walked in and I think she’s over her twenties, maybe she has another job and she just watches young girls and then touches herself.

I want to the classical couple make out.

I walk in behind them to try on a pair of shorts and they go in the same cabin, I close my eyes and press myself against the wall.

I don’t even know her name.

I think of that disco again and how on the next a girl had dragged me in, one which I had math with who had a northern accent and was drunk before even the beginning.

She had lured me in, whispering and giggling and in the end kicking the women’s door open exposing some girls who were fucking quite viciously, she had passed me the bottle of booze and I saw a joint getting passed around. I managed to ask for cigarettes and I had dug first time in for a pussy, spreading the fucked girl’s legs and feeling a mixed taste of sex, orgasm and two women making love as I had thought then rather than fucking ad it had been great, licking her as I eyed the icelandic girl called Bjork kissing with another dark haired woman with a slender waist and I was licking the breasts of a blonde who was biting her lips.

Some people know who is a lesbian and who is not, but the LGBT flag on her pin bugged me off, I had been proud amongst women I fuck but that’s it.

I close my eyes as I imagine the butch fingering the femme harshly, biting her neck and maybe even sliding a dildo out to fuck her tight vagina. I don’t even think that they’re even fucking, but I want to believe sometimes and I start touching myself glancing at the mirror to see the newly cropped black fringe and I see her close her eyes the fake eyelashes crossing the real, closing eyes tighter and letting her tongue out.

I gasp and keep fingering myself harder, looking at the mirror, it’s still an obsession with one’s body and I want to see her want me.

Eventually I come, thrusting and nearly knocking the clothing down behind my head and gasping, I’d kill for masturbation.

I eventually go outside my fingers still soaked so I suck them off, not seeing the couple, the shorts hanging around my neck and I smile and pay.

I want to see my fantasy strolling with ice cream, dipping her cunt in vanilla and strawberry, licking her lips and fuck I want her badly, I want to lick her, push her breasts as hard as I can and share a double sided dildo as she cannot even scream from pleasure. I don’t think I’m even such a bad shag.

I want to go back, so I go back past my school scowling a bit to not see her there but on the other side of the street, biting her nails and smiling at the sky above with her hair as some burning fire which I’m not even scared of.

I hesitate and I walk up, in some daze and I order ice cream, her pin is now gone and she seems a bit too thoughtful and I get scared of her age and it’s different when you are in a fuck club and I hope she would show me a dildo and shove it within me and I just take the ice cream, leaking in her own feelings and thoughts as in the end she smiles at me.

“You ok, love?” She asks me. What if she’s thirty? Fuck.

“Yeah.” I just say nothing wishing I were in London to dip my nose in specific literature which would still have barely any sex scenes and for erotica I don’t seem cheap enough sometimes. I don’t say anything and I eat the ice cream in front of her.

The woman leans out of the small caravan and looks around.

“C’mon, sweetie, let’s go.” And she slips back in, closes the window and I feel cut off. Fuck, what if she is thirty?

She walks out, smoking and I see her green platforms and her laugh as she closes everything.

I just shiver and she slips out a menthol cigarette and smiles at me.

I am underage.

I am about to make out with a woman twice my age, I feel music filling my ears that I cannot hear her conversation.


I manage to reply to something and walk closer to the Royal Mile, her red bag hanging on her hips and I wonder if we are headed where we are supposed to as we walk past Grassmarket where people are hung and I’m shivering even more.

I can’t stop shivering and people walk around in Hunters, a fair sign of rain or people just loving wellies too much and I am amused by my eye catching so many typical things to Edinburgh and the lack of rain today.

It even feels like I am walking alone, as if I am heading up to the castle from the bridges, walking past all the shops, wobbling around the houses and slipping them in mind, nearly wobbling from the scent and exhasution of beauty which is kept and I miss home all of a sudden and it’s a relief when we reach the Royal Mile and she takes out her iPhone, a white one and takes a few quick snaps most likely with my face so pale and I wonder why she needs it but once I’ve been invited straight to a club and well I’ve made out with people wobbling past and caught women who wanted me.

Then she laughs and we walk into some small store which sells cashmere one of the many and walk upstairs.

I look at the small room as she undoes her jacket and her shirt.

This is like a club I say to myself, scared and rushed as the woman goes down and starts undoing my buttons, tracing my clit with her finger first and then her tongue.

She closes her majestic eyes and I scream, shivering, thrusting my hips in as she smiles and laughs.

She bites my clit gently and pulls it with her lips, looking at me mischievously and taking off her own skirt, platforms aside as she keeps licking me over the fabric. The red haired blows on my clit, laughing and slowly dipping her finger in my entrance, and puts her mouth there before pulling it harshly down and pushing me on the wooden floor.

As I open my eyes from the impact she’s still licking the fabric and I see how she undid her shirt exposing her breasts and I am trying to grab hold of something but I can’t and she keeps teasing me and eventually she pulls my underwear down and pants with her teeth.

“Let’s get you ready, love.” She says even tenderly and spreads my theighs roughly as she manages to take the tight jeans off and leaves the rather odd smiling cow socks bought on the classic sales.

The wonderful woman with a not so straight sexual orientation takes in now on my bare skin as I scream out, my entire body shaking harshly as she keeps sucking my clit, her fingers tracing my entrance soaking it in.

“Kinky.” The older woman says and slides her hand in and tears her mouth with a cum trail between her red lips and my screaming vagina.

She presses her body against the bed, fingers hidden and desire behind buttons of a jean skirt and she screams, raisisng her skirt and I see no underwear and a thong lying aside.

I see the woman laugh and showing me how beautiful she is with her entrance and her ass and I just lie there, slowly taking off my shirt as she strokes herself, slowly, teasing and then sucking her fingers.

Then she goes on fours and smiles, exposing everything between her legs.

“Hit me.” She says, red hair against the boards.

I slap her buttcheak a bit weakly and I see a trail of cum leaking out of her entrance and I slide my tongue against it as I feel her entire body smile and I repeat it more and more until I sit up and pin her down, putting my legs into position.

The sex woman laughs and pins me back down on the floor.

And starts moving on me. She removes her shirt and beige bra, her breasts exposed and right in front of my face as I begin sucking and she strokes my hair.

“Such a quite lesbian, eh?” And she starts biting my neck as I gasp at each thrust of sex and I stop seeing anything, screaming her, calling even her an ice woman and she laughs, everything is an explosion of the scene and sex, sex is never so good

So good

“They say it’s better with the one you love.” I gasp as we are both near.

“Let’s play the fairytale then, bitch.” And I come, screaming, clawing her back, thrusting my hips up, gasping, screaming her calling her names, even swearing as I even squirt on her and I don’t even see her orgasm, I just feel her scream soaking up my self as she starts moaning and shivering and slapping whatever she can of my body and slamming her vaginal lips against my own and harder and harder and harder


It feels like I come again but it’s so long it’s beautiful us screaming, someone banging and I feel people bying cashmere and I hear the bagpipes and I sit up, my hair a mess and even braided with hers as her eyes are still closed and she looks at my stomach.

“Look at me, woman. I don’t care you’re age. I’m fifteen.” I say and I kiss her lips.

She kisses me so brief and collapses hands clawing my soul and tearing it hastly for the city, which is herself, making love to her is like making lvoe to home and I see some seagulls fly past as I wonder how we look, thirty and fifteen and I just kiss her, knowing home at last and always knowing with the streets and the music and the worn Hunter boots I need to use again to join the mass of love.

She drains the sun.3

Saturday, 15 September 2012

I Don't Like Giving Titles

The streets seem wider and it feels like tingles of electricity still go through you sometimes even when I raise my eyes at bars and I see my pint not being given I shout out and I still get scared and my eyes do catch females sometimes like the red haired girl in heels at the end of the street with short hair in the green coat.

Or sometimes it’s just no one and it’s the beer.

I look at a parent who drags a small child by hand the child being a bit too goofy and I just walk on, not knowing what they had been trying to achieve by pinning me down and I see the child’s dark eyes linger on me, maybe wishing it were as old as I am, I’d wish to be here but I’d want the memories to be more faint and distant and not so clinging as a shirt after running for no reason to an old used bookstore and dragging books ut, crossing legs as you feel both men and women looking.

It’s bizarre and obscure, allowing this sort of ‘sodomy’ to be allowed and now taken away from us.

I could’ve just fucked that child out on the street as the mother dragged him on into the direction of the old town, maybe to keep her child straight who she called as Ian and asked him to drag along as I’d call myself more new, true, I still stayed in the shadows and I don’t return your glance even now, but I still walk on.

We had met a few years later with the boy as I was having more alcohol and back when you could smoke in bars and people would discuss things before soberness would be a bad dream and an attempt to raise hands in the morning to pray for that feel they had forsaken and given in to sin.

I had been older and so had he, just sat with me.

As he had recalled,

“I click my fingers on the table, watching him throw another tantrum and laugh out before he enters the room and eyes me, smirking, collar up.

We share a cigarette.”

That was all you ever get from homosexuality, a shared cigarette which turns into a fag and you discard.

“Music was so rare you speak of, it seemed, you were still tense until you found interest, that had been the thing.” Ian speaks later, looking a bit down, shoulders loosened yet he is like a leaf holding onto the last things a tree can give before death.

“You seemed attracted.” Seems like a snap and a confession. Of course I had waited until the pub had nearly closed and I pressed him against a wall, a cubicle, waiting for the last to leave and quickly put my hand between his crotch, unbutton and reveal pleasure in my mouth as I started sucking the child off, it had been a weird comparisson and at the time I had known nothing, just the taste of his crotch and later on of his cum as he lunched forward and arched his back, nearly kicking me aside and pulling me forward.

It’s a sharred cigarette.

Then he had went down, a bit sloppy but looking at him had been enough and roughly thrusting so that he’d remember his as I believe first dick.

I came and hurled him aside, wanting a beer again and more thoughts triggered my mind.


I'm very sorry for not being able to post anything and if to be frank I haven't even been writing from everything going on and I'm finally back home for more than a week now. Hooooome, hoooooooome, it was good and is good to finally be able to walk around places not only loved but ones I've used like where Alison from Used Lighter used to take blood:) Really good to be back home, I'm serious, I missed you too much


Sunday, 19 August 2012


It feels as if you’re always getting driven to the left where the devil is as you stand in the supermarket and you just walk out and you see fires around your eyes and hell as if the book will be given to you.

There are different songs some about how dark and ugly drawing with black paint is which I still hesitate to call nice and can find plagiarism, so I throw myself upon the first man I see who has a shirt with a bear with his eye already starting to get torn off.

And it’s someone who I don’t know and will end up in a blur as all the humans you see in the street and even as I will be having my hair torn off and the photo taken with droll stirring up the blood on my face I still won’t remember his face or how the bear looked like if you concentrate a lot you won’t even remember how your cat looks like or the smell of smoke until you breathe in or your night is crumbled by the thought and memeory thrown at you like a dream.


I'm literally doing this while traveling XD basically I hesitated a lot as I had literally no idea who Max Bemis was and being well, studying to be a psychologist and stuff like that interested me and I even ended up reading about an hour ago of different stuff again xD yay, basically it did end up being a short story and I had enjoyed it and well, it is interesting and I guess request? And sorry for the lately short stories and thank you:)

I chose Hell as the title because if you get the word right it just fits.


Saturday, 18 August 2012

Ticket Man

My hands feel heavy as if they could detach and I quickly see myself putting a finger to my eyebrow and fixing the pencil I had applied and I hand him a bottle of milk because I cannot hold and I know that he had ordered coke and strolled in because it is the start of the day and we open at five as if we are fairytale and I bow lightly seeing Jamie raise my leg and fuck me hard with a drunken breath both of us in the gents because that’s what we are given and the hormones slipping down.

I watch him look at me with drunken eyes and he breaks the bottle just as I had served him milk instead of coke.


I was listening to Ticket Man by The Kills and yeah:) It had been a think of the unique request as I was thinking and initially I had a milk man and then it also reversed points of views and the fact that I decided that I wanted a male fan and I love how short it is and yeah, thank you:)


Thursday, 16 August 2012

Hold The Flag

It’s too complex to be in four walls when you move and the snow falls and covers all your imagination and I walk upstairs the cottage to see everything swirl until I fall upon the covers and take off my glasses and ignore all the people who will start their calls with saying Karen, this is happening.

I just stretch myself wondering what was the meaning to just go up north in the country and be surrounded by snow and take longer to get to work, start the car and freeze myself until it’s warm and I just shove the books away, throwing a bunch to give to charity and it feels dumb sometimes to erase heterosexuality but sometimes the solution should be radical as I light a cigarette and smoke fills the room shielding the windows from the inside and now not only the snow lurks in the betweenings.

I wander off after I arrange the bookshelf alphabetically all about women who love women and a bit of Burroughs, only the gay ones, pulling a coat with a big blue hood and I feel like I am from a fairytale and with a cigarette between my teeth I drive with The Virgin Suicides soundtrack in, a reminder of how I had found Kirsten Dunst too attractive when I was younger and how I had my first sex dreams dancing with a woman, holding hands.

I open the window, sitting in, knees against the wheel and I turn the car off, walking out and walking into the small rainbow looking bar and I throw the cigarette out, showing the ID being over twenty and walking into the rainbow field with men and women going nature, a few trannies dancing on the dancefloor, men drinking and women laughing and I lean against a couch, not even getting a drink as I see a women with long hair walking past and laughing, holding her brow and sipping her alcohol in a over grown long sleeved gray sweater and I smile at her just to get drunk with her in a few drinks.


Feel free to request :)


Hold The Flag2

Friday, 10 August 2012

Used Lighter5

I wake up cold in my dream, when your city is actually amixture of everything you’ve seen in your life with television and even if you’ve never watched it and never travelled you’ll get a mash up of the streets and

I remember I was a kid and it was cold and I had bed covers and they didn’t cover my shoulders and they were cold

“When I was a kid.” And Alexander appears with a bat grinning, a tooth missing as I see someone grab him from behind and disappear as he wings the baseball bat with all his might at my face and blood flows in the sewars of my mouth as I can still see my eye but I see and I feel the blood flowing as its tails dip into my nose and then I get my own bat given to me from the same man and I kick him and snap the bat in half by a hitting his ribs and he laughs as I stare at his teeth and he looks up at me, laughing and then hitting me in the balls full force.

I wake up with a teeth ache and I come too see in the mirror as I see Alexander now wondering like a ghost in the apartment, even brushing his teeth as well and he sits on the sink, exposing his crotch still covered in fabric and by spreading out his legs.

I swallow and spit out the tooth paste and Alison stands near me as I look at Alexander who glances at Alison and I touch her back lightly, sliding in and fingering her from behind, her backdoor staring at Alexander in the eye.

“Go on, touch her, bitch.” He smirks and takes out his cock.

And I bite Alison’s shoulder, I close her ears, thsi might be a dream, she looks like a doll again even if I see her in the mirror with myself now shaving and trying to stare at my pubic hair, I’m too balls literate today.

So I bend Alison over, the doll now with woll blonde hair and I spread out her butt cheeks, her ass is fine and I go in, gasping at how good it feels and Alexander grabs my chin.

I swallow.

“Go on, I’ve tasted Alison.” And I kiss Alison in the mirror and in the dream, reality and vice versa. “I taste like Alison. I am Alison.”

And Alexander laughs as he comes on his hand and the goo slips down on the floor and in reality its just water from Alison’s hand.

He comes on the doll and throws her out, my come coming out like a string and I take out my tongue.

I’m alive and the mirror moves as I tilt my head sideways to glance and consume and stare and product.

“Every.” He points his finger at every word and shakes it from side to side. “Has homosexuality.” And he laughs hard and rough as if he’d be penetrating me for the first time in a long while in a cold bath, immersing my head in the water with little polar pears the size of bugs and cubes swimming.

“Fuck global warming, eh, Jamie?” And he slaps my butt and pushes my head back in, as if it were a blowjob and not my death.


Feel free to request more


Used Lighter6

High Addiction

When you become of age when you sit alone in an airplane it feels like everyone who walks past you might be a coincidence in sex and everyone seems to speak Portuguese as if it were an inner flight connection and people laugh at my ability to speak English and check my passport twice, three times and four and ask each other stuff even take out a book and what matters is how the service is zero and how rare English is even with the amount of tourists and advertises to travel.

I lean back so that I will see the window and I wonder who will the other person be, hopefully it would be someone nice and someone to talk to but that’s just in my head as I bite my finger, staring at the tempting no smoking sign and maybe no one will appear after all and maybe the whole plane will be empty and I will be able to smoke and I wonder if I do nothing will they tell me to turn down and off the music in order of different flight attendants speaking the same portuguese but with different accents.

I feel old, it feels odd to actually have something to remember and recall and I watch the women and men pass.

I recall that once I had been seated next to a religious women with beads sticking out, hair frizzy and the lack of touch cringing on her neck and I knew that if the plane would fall I would ask her to pray myself being excluded from religion as I blushed at a few memories and leaned closer to hug the chair with my back and feel nothing soft just nearly plastic chairs and the wrapped bed covers for a long flight and useless movies which were only made for all of us to be the same for the same flight, our only choice being drinks and three different variations of food.

I cannot speak portuguese so therefor I don’t and it’s a small mutual agreement in which people are the culprit and I will be forced, my only answer might be in Europe they speak, so I just don’t smile back and they don’t at the pale skin and the dark hair, the plane is empty and the language clings onto the wall, maybe foreigners expel such experience and I blame my lack of ability and just look around, the shifting and hesitating not even worthy now of mention.

The plane is actually empty I note standing up and falling down to listen to voice morph into an ugly vulgar song which I shall never know and which will fade into an abyss.

And the abyss becomes black like a smile against it as a woman and lady even comes to my mind sits near me, older and fixes her make up, humming something, taking a piece of gum and shielding her eyes from everyone for a bit and she offers me gum, I take it and chew slowly, staring at the lady.

It had been too awful with turbulence and the woman checking everything even walking between rows as she walked around until the turbulence lurched and no one spoke english as usual and she had been drinking some orange medicine and drinking water to slurp it in and as I had tried to ask for tea she helped me with saying Cha and I thanked her, pissed at the entire country and their lack of culture as they had closed the window and she said she had been claustrophobic with a wink to me after that and headed to the bathroom and I wanted to follow her with sex and the imagery filled.

I did nothing and she came back.

The imagery in my head was beautiful and seemed endless like a chewing gum and then she came back, her bra off as I swallowed watching her look at me and smile and I watched at her ring, maybe we were both sexually frustrated, fuck I wanted to fuck her too badly with everyone asleep and I was starting to see her walk naked before me and sit on me and start riding me crazy and I wanted her.

Fuck, I can’t do it and I glanced at the ring on her finger and she laughed, covering her mouth.

High Addiction 2