Sexual Lament

The weather is so odd... it was raining just a few hours ago and it got me into the mood to you know what but now the sun is out again. yet the feelings haven't subsided. I still have that burning desire, that yearning in my loins, that aching knowledge that I promised myself I would not indulge.

Why did I do this to myself? I guess it's somewhat like fasting. Getting in touch with the inner me while keeping my outer me untouched. What absolute poppy cock... cock...cock...cock...cock...cock... and to imagine that i've gone for weeks without feeling adored and pampered and pleased. Weeks without feeling flesh against flesh and skin against skin. Then I remember why I made my decision and I say a silent prayer and take a drink of whites to wash my sins away.

Then I reminisce on the days when I had options and I compare them to today when I have nothing but empty memories and "might as wells". Why is this such a challenge, a hassle? It's a crying shame. I long for the adventures, meetings of passion and reckless abandon. Moments of complete surrender. And I think of how they all end, every last one of them, ending in disappointment.

Maybe I require too much, maybe I need to channel my positive energy to elicit a positive outcome. Or maybe i'm afraid that what I long for is REALLY too good to be true. And disappointment is imminent.

Yet, on the other hand, no one should be forced to accept mediocrity, well at least not me.
When I have so much to offer, so much to teach and so much to learn.

Where is my partner? the bolt for this nut, to screw me until I feel all is right with this miserable existence. Someone to achieve multiple simultaneous ecstasy with me, for me, inside of me.

Alas, as my pot boils and the juices approach the edge. I try to control the fire, the burning and yearning. And I stew and simmer, waiting for the ONE to come and feast at my banquet. As we both nourish ourselves. The never-ending fulfilling, ever-lasting climax.

All worth the wait.