Dear Journal

Dear Journal,
I’ve attempted multiple times to try to come up with some prose or poem. I’d even settle for a Haiku about what happened. 

BIIIIIIITTTCH! I smothered him. It felt as natural as breathing. All 168lbs of muscle, fucked that man’s face. I was not demure. I was not lady like. I had both hands in his hair and rode him into battle. 

Journal, I don’t know what happened. Something in my brain clicked and said “This man has survived 41 years of life, he will survive me. He’ll figure it out.” That’s the last thoughts I had of him until I was satisfied. 

Journal, girl listen… I’ve always loved a good profile. I caught his eyes, he had a look of adoration. So sweet. But then I saw his nose. It was like tunnel vision. 

He has the most incredible Romanesque nose. The type of nose the old masters would try to capture in marble. You know the nose with a bridge that is prominent with that desirable hook on the end. I thought to myself. “Yes, this will do nicely,” and I fucked his nose. 

My dominate desires being expressed so fully, that I nearly waterboarded him. His choking and sputtering driving my pleasure higher. 

My belly still clenches at the thought. 

I don’t know how I knew but smothering him was moving him closer to subspace. I needed him right here with me. My right hand still gripping his hair, steering him exactly where I needed him. I released my left hand to reach back and slapped his newly pierced cock. 

Once, twice, three times. 

He opened his mouth wider, pained cries muffled as I grind my hips harder. 

Not enough. 

I slap his cock again. 

He cries. 

Again. 

He whimpers. 

Again. 

He moans. 

Again. 

He cries. 

I scream. 

Journal, I don’t recall blacking out but there was darkness. It was a warm place somewhere in the depth of that darkness. I reached out and something reached back. It covered me the way you would slide into warm bath water. 

When I opened my eyes, I was back. I was resting on my back and he was curled between my legs. My hand resting in his hair. 

There was such profound stillness. 

Something is different, Journal. I think I brought something back with me from that deep place. I can’t place exactly what it is, but it shares space with me now. My instincts are telling me that deep place is sacred and I was given a gift.