Slutbag Thoughts

Warning!

This next post is rated.... Hell, Just don't read this shyt if you're either prude or under 18...

Phuck the politically correct term "sexually frustrated"...

I am officially totally and completely beyond all shadow of a doubt horny...

And this little baby (who, within the past week, has moved from his hiding spot in a drawer in my closet to the underwear drawer right next to my bed) just hasn't been cutting it for me lately... I want passionate kisses, and ass-smacking. I need my breasts fondled and my nipples sucked. I want my weave pulled and I want to talk dirty... I want to grab his hair while his face is buried between my legs and I scream his name at the top of my lungs. I want to swallow his shyt whole while I glance up into his eyes and watch the pleasure make them roll to the back of his head. I want him to deeply moan my name while my face is buried in the pillow (to muffle my own moans) while he's beating my shyt up from behind... I want erotic stares while he encourages me to "get that nut, girl, get that nut.." Okay... This reminiscing is too much...

Forgive me for being a little graphic, but it's been about 3 mos. since I've had anything that remotely resembles good sex...

I know it contradicts with my (admittedly foolish and possibly delusional) "play-it-cool-act-like-I-don't-want-him-make-him-realize-we're-more-than-just-phenomenal-sex-to-each-other-and-make-him-fall-head-over-heels-for-me-like-he-was-two-years-ago-when-I-foolishly-wasn't-ready-to-be-with-him" long-term goals for our relationship, (not to mention, the entertaining of these thoughts contradict with my relationship with God... hey, I'm only human and He created me to be a VERY sexual young lady, and since I 've been trying to supress the wild beast, the hoebag in me is dying to get out!) but I made plans to get it in with The Artist when he comes home for Spring Break next weekend...

Well, actually, I made plans to receive a deep tissue massage from The Artist next weekend, but he and I both know where that's gonna end up, despite my efforts to remain coy and aloof concering the obviously sexual intentions we both have. Hell, a bomb-ass massage is how he ended up with his face between my legs the very FIRST time about two years ago...

In my defense, though, my neck and shoulders have been a little achy, and I really DO want a deep-tissue massage... The happy ending is just a bonus! :-)

I've been thinking about it all day and all night since the plans were made on Google Talk Monday while I was at work... And, quite frankly... I can't wait!

According to a poetess who's poem I'll link later when I finish the post about the topic to which it's most relevant:

The ride is like a drug;
We don't care about the long-term effects...
We just care how high we can get while we're on it...

And I'm going through some serious withdrawal right about now.... I need a fix of that good-good... That sticky-icky that I feel I can only get from The Artist, as any and everyone else would be a colossal waste of time!

It's too bad that I still have feelings for him... I'm trying my darndest not to allow these feelings to ruin the chances of this experience being the mind-blowing phuckfest I've come to expect when we reunite after not having seen each other for months....

Phuck! I'm so damn horny... I Can't WAIT until next Saturday!

(And I swear if this motherfucker stands me up like he did around Christmas (which is why I stopped talking to his ass for the last few months) I'm gonna phuck his shyt up... I have a CAR now... I'm not above stalking his ass over some good ass dick... From experience, he should know by now that I have no problem just taking his shyt when he's being less than cooperative... He'll phuck around and return to his apartment in The College Town after break only to be snatched into a cute little gray Altima, ravished, and have his lifeless body thrown into the street! I'm not playing!)

Till next weekend, I'm hoping these vibrators aren't really as loud as they seem to me...