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Blogs > aliljaded > It's All Relevant |
3 AM Thoughts When the air is charged with electricity and sleep is ages away, even if my clock promises the swift arrival of dawn, when the sheets and blankets are too warm on my skin even in the chill of winter, when darkness and solitude cease to be companions and become conspirators, bullying me into my memory of him. My body remembers his hands, his mouth - oh god, his mouth - and how his lightest touch could spark ecstasy and his quietest whisper could instill obedience, even in the throes of that ecstasy. He is imprinted under my skin, the weight of his body over mine. the pressure of those relentless hands, the lightning strikes of his agile tongue. My ears remember his heartbeat, thundering under his skin, his sighs of impatience, and the guttural gasp just before he roared out his pleasure into me, over me, through me. But mostly they remember his silence, his quiet patience, how he taught with actions instead of just words. My mouth remembers him - the resilience of warm, salt-sweaty skin over rigid flesh, the scalding heat of his release, the sweetness of his kisses, the<b> dark </font></b>richness of his laughter. My mouth remembers the words he taught me - I never knew the intensity of “please” until he was through with me. These are the nights I am restless, my hands are restless on my body. Nights where there isn’t enough pain to dull the ache in my chest or enough orgasms to make me forget the blinding intensity of the ones he gave me. And without him, they are hollow, pale, feeble imitations of what should be. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.” |
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yummy
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Written on the Body
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I know 3:00 a.m. all too well. Howling at the moon and mal ad osteo.
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Beautiful.
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"When the night has been too lonely And the road has been too long And you think that love is only For the lucky and the strong Just remember in the winter Far beneath the bitter snow Lies the seed that with the sun's love In the spring becomes the rose". the rose
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Why is it always 3AM? Have you ever noticed that?
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I know those nights well.
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Heavy nights... ☹
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Nighttime can be the hardest time, and 3 AM knows all my secrets. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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