I slide a hand through his hair, caressing his neck, draws its mouth between my lips. We doing and I love its smell everywhere, its fluids. I love sniffing and smelling of sex between my fingers and crush his body under the weight of my body. I love to squeeze his belly, like this, with my belly. I like it hurt a little, kneading her hips as much as possible and resist, her hands pressed against my chest, she resists me. I also love when she pushes me trying to keep my tongue against his. Like when she cums. She enjoys herself. I'm at a crossroads in my life, you know, I discovered love with Mary, my pauvre con that I was tangled in my art sticky and my reams of A4 paper with gum. She is my best character, the one I have not yet created, I have not written, not invented, which I decided to do nothing. Here I am naked in front of Mary. I feel naked in front of Mary, as laid bare, and feel no need to seduce her. Another thing I was deceived, but my body or my looks still elusive shyness. I do not need to play him the Comedia della Arte . I reserve it to other people, those behind the camera and eye protrusion in the eyepiece. Here I am naked in front of Mary. J'exhibe my body. I lick language. I am whole, a quasi-human animal, a being-like animal, the opposite of what fame has done to me, the image you have of me. I never communicated to me and certainly not tomorrow I'm going to start. I communicate with my body that I love communicating with my touch ...
0 comments:
Post a Comment