L'art et le plaisir

I used to think I was deeply in love with you when I was thirteen and you were seventeen and I used to think all those nights over the phone or the window chat were the perfect way for you to show me how deeply you felt me as well. I used to think our love was one of those people write about, saying first love is pure and magical. And I am twenty-one now and I know I was not in love with you but I believed so. I did not love you, but I do know now that I admire you, I admire your strenght and resilience. I admire how well we both pretended to love each other. And I am writing this now with an ache in my heart because it has been years since I did not even thought about your lips or your pale face or how you always used a hat but last night you were all over my head and I remembered so clearly, so vividly, so painfully the way we did not used to love each other. And I saw it: how you touched me without even touching me, and how you kissed my whole body from head to toes, ho...

Esta mañana vi todo el amanecer mientras la ansiedad me despertaba antes de que la alarma a tu lado sonara para que yo me levantase. Vi al sol salir mientras sentía tu respiración bien cerquita y tus brazos me rodeaban entera y pensaba cómo en el mundo llegué hasta ahí. Me dediqué a acariciarte los hombros, el cuello y tu barba. Los hombros y el cuello porque tenías la tez fría. La barba sólo porque sí. Escuché la alarma y me rodé encima tuyo para apagarla y darte un beso, irónicamente, de buenas noches. Debí irme porque era lo correcto, pero me quedé porque era lo que quería. La gente tilda la forma en que nos conocimos como insólita. A ti te toman por vivo, a mí por puta. ¿Quién se va con un desconocido la noche justa a conocerle? Le puedes decir a la gente que me importa una mísera mierda. Cambiaría treinta de mis conocidos y varios de mis polvos por irme contigo de nuevo otra noche. Siendo la sentimentalista y sensible que soy no podría desaprovechar todo el material q...

***Warning: Sexual references ahead*** — How would you fuck me? — I'd fuck you like a dance. Slowly and close, passionate with our bodies pressed together one moment, then wild and dangerous at next. I'd be in control at first, your legs would involuntarily shiver as I slid my cock inside you, but as I submit to you, the power would change over time and you'd take command. You'd ride me until you experienced what it's like to cum with a man inside of you while I suck on your breasts. Then, like a dance I'd lead again, grabbing at your throat and fucking you from behind while we both laid on our sides, demanding you scream my name and that you want my cum until I finish in your pretty little mouth... Are you touching yourself? — Yes. — Do it slowly. Think of my breath on your neck. — Keep going. — Your fingers desperately digging into my back as I devour you. Grabbing my ass, pulling my cock deeper inside. Your moans. Me begging you to say in Spa...

"lamento mucho que este mundo no haya podido mantenerte a salvo. Que tu viaje a casa sea suave y pacífico descansa en paz" escribo una carta que nunca voy a entregar, y que en caso de querer hacerlo, requiere quemarla a la intemperie y esperar que llegue a ti de alguna manera. me siento irónica y ridícula porque ésto me duele a mí. no sé si verdaderamente fuimos amigos, y los recuerdos que tengo de ti son muy vagos, como el que me gustaste cuando pequeña y fuimos novios alrededor de un día. no sé si te dí un beso en ese juego de niños. espero haberlo hecho, me gustaría haberlo hecho. me conformé con verte de nuevo, después de muchos años, y sentirme agradecida de que ya no usabas el gorrito y tampoco el tapabocas. eso, para mí, era la vívida prueba de que habías superado el cáncer. ya no tenías huesitos rotos, y yo ya no lloraba porque te los rompías. una parte de mí te tiene un cariño inmensurable porque sé que fuiste valiente, pero también porque el...

There is this great method that my teacher taught me so I could improve my memory. She told me to go over every little thing I did on my day just before I went to sleep. To live it all again in my mind right before falling sleep. And it was nice, and it worked out just fine. That's were I began to notice all the things I haven't noticed before. I noticed how naive and inocent I was when I first fell deeply in love. The bloody knuckle days I lived through, asking him not to leave me, begging him to stay, crying night after night asking someone I'm not quite sure to believe in, to bring him back to me. I noticed how painful that was and how much did it changed me. How I started to put myself on incredible danger just to feel alive again. Being drunk at parties where nobody knew me. Flirting, a lot. Being scared of have flirtered a lot. Being scared of how the guy touches me and forces himself on me. Taking walks at 2:00 am. Taking rides in motorbikes with guys I ...