Monday, 5 January 2015

I want to play with your cum on my fingers

“I want to play with your cum on my fingers” and a memory post-coital which reminds me of another happiness I had lost, as all seems to dissolve and remind me of pasts I had been running away, Alison’s toussled lost hair no longer of importance, as an old lover reveals itself like an unexpected letter and I wonder how all had started, how all had drifted apart and how much had we held each other from the others. How we would all talk excitedly and once we had met, the words ceased to exist, adoration becoming as silent as the interviews without being read out. He was much androgynous looking then I had expected, a small twist of ironic fate that all my lovers seemed to hold the same features, that all seemed to a repetition of the second which had played all his cards when I hadn’t wanted him to.

Jack was different, we had both ridden the hope that we had both at least slept with each other, that a drunken kiss would’ve been enough, but it hadn’t,

all was escalating furiously with his hands in my hair, pushing the wine glass away, taking away my sorrow like a manic state of drunkness, that all could vanish, as I stood nude in front of him-

Jack telling me that he would make sure to play with me on his fingers, as he had pushed me further against the table above the mirrors and muffled me with his kisses, as I could feel all aspects of his fabrics all over, his sideburns digging in when he would decide to kiss my cheeks. 

We are nothing until we are told otherwise as his fingers went to wrap my cock and a look I could mistake for love, for I had no hope, just wild desire for him, his lips haunting and hanging as I had started sweating, barely holding my moans, as he held my hand in his, so that I wouldn’t touch him, Jack telling me to continue on later, that he would love to fuck me

And I dissolved, screaming, gasping fastly, afterwards as my fluid was already caught up on Jack’s fingers, my breathing awfully harsh as I had looked at him

I had fallen, fear tangling me into escalating as I had grabbed him, reversing our positions and going on my knees to his already desperate cock and with a few mouth motions, Jack had made himself vulnerable, reaching the stage

Where you lay with a partner and you realize who you had loved and who had you lost.

I light a cigarette, watching Alison sit up-

I know who had taken my mind as we had sex. 


I had the idea, but I had started wondering which characters should I even use, as I had gotten the idea frankly in a post-coital/coital state, my mind doesn't shut off and I had gotten the first phrase in my head in an err yeah, setting and then I had started thinking of the story when post-coital was gone. I dunno, it's usually when I'm most productive and less anxious, so I tend to write a lot post-sex frankly, well, after the whole post rituals and whatnot. 

I just liked the phrase and I had the idea of the whole thinking of someone else as you have sex, it's rather common I guess and I'm poly so I guess just like any person thoughts slip in, but they're usually basically partner to partner, I don't go fucking one thinking of the other, which is not the case for many people unfortunately or fortunately, who knows.

Taking Alison was more of an exaggeration of taking someone who Jamie wouldn't think in this state during sex. I had mused on Brian or Alex, but I figured that I still thought of Jack first and I had wanted to keep it such because I really enjoy them as a couple. Even if I've been musing on my doomed OTP Brian/Jamie today.

I miss writing short stories and I like the short format which I had used to write in a lot, so I had taken the chance today. I tend to go for the day before I write anxious, what should I post and write today and this had been decided, it's a classic method have sex, after that you'll be full of ideas XD

I quite like the way it ends and I miss writing harsh short stories which end with no couple even if they were filled with love. I guess with me nagging with Callie that I hate how we don't get a lot of queer men ending up with queer men, I've mused on it, the thoughts really. I just wish more people were more open and frankly we had more queer men to look up to who are actually with men now.

I hope you enjoyed it and tell me if you did :3

It was written in a turned off moon-lit room with Venus In Furs (Kills covering) and Radiohead's Climbing Up The Walls and then Gods and Monsters (Lana) and Iron Lung (too lazy to skip the song, it's a good song though xD)

Thank you and yeah, I ship them as fuck, I dunno, I just like musing on the brief time they bonded by my head canon (and those photos with gigantic boners from both and sexual tension and whatnot hdgcjhdgschj anyway xD let a gay guy dream xD)

Thank you! (So frankly I wrote it and wrote the backstory and here it is:3)



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