Mi-am inceput prima dimineata din 2018 cu cafea amaruie si fara breakfast.
In timp ce imi cautam tigarile
(am zis ca ma las de fumat), mi-am dat seama de prezentul in care traiesc: livingul spatios dar nu atat de luxos pe cat am fost obsinuita, putina dezordine, 2 pahare de sampanie de la magazinul de la colt, o perna aici, o perna acolo, cateva hartii de la munca, un Mac pe jos.
A ras un diavol in mine.
Uita-te putin la mine, imi zic, femeie cu cariera, cu o viata cat se poate de mediocra, dar blessed dupa majoritatea standardelor.
Au ras mai multi diavoli.
Sunt fericita ? Nu stiu. Nu mai stiu ce e fericirea. Nu mai sunt atat de ferma in my beliefs cum obsinuiam sa fiu. Cu siguranta am avut perioade mai fericite. Dar si mai triste.
Cum compari fericirea? De la 1 la 10 ?
Pentru mine, acest midlle income trap, in care sunt si eu captiva, a avut conotatii mult mai adanci acum cativa ani. A insemnat mediocritate. Condamnare voluntara la o viata nefericita. O casa mediocra, un salariu care te include in patura de mijloc, o relatie aproape perfecta, niste teluri obisnuite care nu au deadline si nici importanta, o stare pe cat de aproape pe atat de departe de fericire; am fugit de cand ma stiu de acest context. Am crezut ca voi trai oricum, dar nu asa. Am fugit pana am obosit.
Tocmai acesta este contextul meu acum: o cariera, femeie cuminte la casa ei, trecuta de 30 ani. Traiesc in starea asta de coma de cativa ani. Fiecare an e oarecum la fel, viata isi urmeaza cursul lin.
Am vrut orice, dar nu asta.
Mi-am gasit tigarile. Si cafeaua. Si telecomanda.
Imi doresc un an in care sa invat sa imi controlez emotiile mai bine si in care sa experimentez atat cat e necesar ca sa descopar ce ma face fericita.
La multi ani!
Maine ma mut in Miami
Iar de saptamana urmatoare incep un job nou la o corporatie din State si incep studiile pentru Master.
Toate-s vechi si noua toate*, trag dupa mine o iubire esuata, asemanatoare celor din casnicii.
Nu mai conteaza cum am ajuns in situatia asta, conteaza doar cum ies.
Note so self:
„When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.”
– Spune-mi ceva despre tine, care te sperie.
– Ma sperie.
Ma sperie cat de usor pot sa seduc. Sa manipulez. Constient sau nu. Cu sau fara intentie. Ma sperie acest mindfuck game pe care il joc, cu sau fara vointa mea, cu orice fiinta cu care intru in contact. Sunt o femeie frumoasa, prin urmare imi e usor sa ma fac auzita, vazuta, interesanta.
Sunt nesiguranta oricarei femei care e intr-o relatie.
– Te sperie ca poti sa faci rau unor oameni din viata ta?
– Ma sperie pentru ca eu nu pot sa iubesc decat un barbat care imi rezista. Un barbat care joaca acelasi joc.
De asta nu m-am casatorit.
He’d been talking about her for days, whispering in my ear, telling me how beautiful she was. If he was trying to make me jealous, he hadn’t succeeded. I instinctively knew she would be no competition in that department. He’d never found anyone as beautiful as me. But sometimes he likes to tease me, to torment me. He has a spiteful streak. We’re similar in that respect; we both have selfish, self centred dispositions.
The major difference between us is that he’s very possessive; he likes to own things.
I may be selfish but I wouldn’t want the responsibility that comes with possessions. I like being looked after. I like being spoilt and indulged. In return, I am expected to give a little, which I do, reluctantly, but then the rewards and the lifestyle I enjoy far outweigh any inconvenience to my general comfort. Most of the times he pampers me. Some of the times he needs to release a little excess sexual energy and that’s when I indulge him and go along with his fantasies, his ”little games” as he likes to refer to them.
Today was such a day. He hadn’t forewarned me but I had an inkling something was up; I’d heard him making arrangements on the phone, although I am not sure at what point he’d decided to include me.
He’d come out of the bedroom, his face impassive but his eyes flickering with excitement. ”Here, look what I’ve got you”.
His hands appeared from behind his back and he held up a collar with a leash attached. It was black leather and studded with small glittering stones; it was beautiful. He reached out and put it, gently and reassuringly, around my neck. I love the smell of new leather.
”Look at you”, he whispered, softly ad seductively in my ear, ”so beautiful”.
He was always paying me compliments like this but I remained unimpressed. He found my aloofness attractive. He came from an affluent background, so possessions and friendships had been easy to attain. He was used to attention and took it for granted. Id others reacted with disinterest or indifference to his presence, it intrigued and attracted him. He was certainly attracted by my indifference. He wanted to win me over, gain my affections, but capturing my heart was never going to happen. I accommodated his needs, he served me.
Having secure the collar, he turned and led me by the leash along the carpeted landing. I didn’t resist, I wasn’t going to spoil his fun. As we entered the bedroom his brogues clicked sharply on the polished floorboards, making an oddly disconcerting sound.
He led me to the chaise longue by the large window opposite his four-poster bed. He looked at me sternly, as though I was a small girl, then commanded: ”Stay there and don’t move, she’ll be here soon and then the show can begin”.
Outwardly, he was confident, self assured, but I could sense an underlying tension, a faint anxiety. I knew he was concerned that she wouldn’t turn up. He’d feel foolish if she didn’t. He clipped the leash to a metal ring that had been set into the wall by the chaise longue. It was all part of the game, but I had no intention of going anywhere, I was interested in his little show.
He went downstairs, leaving me in the calm silence of the room. I strained my ears. I could hear him moving about in the hallway. I knew what he was doing: checking his face and hair in the mirror, practising expressions of stern displeasure, disapproval, haughtiness; I’d seen it all before. The there was the sound of the doorbell, a heavy chime, a few excited exchanges, subdued squeals and then silence, only for a few seconds, before I heard a muffled sound, a sort of soft but heavy padding. The sound gradually became clearer and then I heard him gently but firmly giving directions, his voice calm and reassuring.
”That’s it, only a couple more steps, good girl.”
The shuffling sound was now quite distinct. He entered the bedroom, his shoes rapping authoritatively on the floor.
His voice was sharper now, he was tugging on a leash.
”Come on, my cock’s impatient.”
I heard her voice before I saw her.
”Yes, sir, I’m coming.”
When she entered the room my heart began to thump. Like me, she had a collar around her neck. However, unlike me, she was blindfolded and crawling on her hands and knees. But it wasn’t her position that had caused my heart to jump with excitement, it was her clothing. She was wearing a beautiful, white, full length fur coat.
I love fur. Nothing compares to its softness, its warmth, its luxuriousness. He sensed my excitement and put his forefinger to his lips signalling for me to stay quiet.
”Is your husband at work?”
”And did you tell him?”
”Yes, sir. ”
”And what did he say?”
”He told me to be good.”
He stopped by the bed, having led her onto a thick rug. ”Kneel before me.”
As she raised herself into a kneeling position I could clearly see the black velvet blindfold masking her eyes, the black leather chocker that contrasted with her milky complexion and the white fur of the coat. He bent down and detached the leash and at the same time he kissed her. She opened her mouth, breathing heavily, and their tongues melted into each other. He began caressing the fur coat, his hands running over her shoulders and arms, and then pulled it open. She wore nothing underneath and her full, luscious breasts trembled as the coat was forced apart. He pink nipples were pierced by small silver rings and from each ring a pearl droplet dangled from a delicate silver chain. He cupped her breasts and licked them and played with the pearls, gently tugging them, causing them to gasp. He kissed her neck and her ears and then moved back to her mouth. My eyes were transfixed by the bright luminescent pearls as they gently swung from her nipples. Then he broke the kiss ad stood up.
”Take it out.” His voice was harsh.
She pulled at his belt and then undid the button on his waistband and began to unzip him. She eased his trousers and shorts down over his tights, gradually revealing the length of his cock until it was released and sprang out, swaying in front of her face, before settling into a rigid salute. I’d rarely seen his cock in a state of flaccidity. It always seemed to be at least semi – erect. He was forever playing with it in front of me. It was large and thick, and when it was fully bloated, it was quite a sight. If he caught me in the right mood, it could have a soporific, almost hypnotic effect on me. He enjoyed me watching him play with himself and would often entertain me (and himself) for considerable periods of time, which I found amusing as well as absorbing. There’s something very tantalising about an erect cock; it has such a presence, there’s almost an edibility about it. If I ever tried to take it in my mouth, he would laugh and push me away. He does love teasing.
He was teasing now. He took hold of the base of his cock, which was magnificently erect and drew the tip along the side of her cheek. Feeling the silky glans on her face, she turned her head towards it, and when it connected with her eager mouth, she began to suckle on the purple head. He let her enjoy herself and stood, with hands on his hips, while she took in as much of him as she could manage. She then placed her hands around the shaft and began to feast on it. Soon, the length of his cock was glistening with her saliva and she was panting like a dog. A dog with a bone. The comparison amused me.
While she enjoyed herself, he gently stroked her hair and murmured encouragingly. ”That’s it, good girl, good girl.” He then placed a hand on each side of her head and moved his hips slowly back and forth. She removed her hands from his cock, to make her mouth more accessible and cupped the cheeks of his buttocks to steady herself against his rhythmic thrusts. As she did so, her fur sleeves brushed his tights, exciting them. His tempo increased.
He looked across at me, eyes half closed, and gave me a lazy smile. After a while he withdrew and told her to finish undressing him, which she did. It took some time as she was still blindfolded and, without the benefit of sight, undoing the thin laces of his brogues provided a finicky task.
Although crouched in a big bundle of white fur, the delicate movement of her fingers, as she attempted to undo his laces, lent her an elegance that I found enchanting. I watched, fascinated. She reminded me of a big white cat and I found the scene rather arousing. Eventually she stood up and, as she did so, she ran her hands from his thighs up to his chest, caressing his flesh. They began kissing again and his hands reached down and fondlet the fur covering her bottom. He raised a knee between her legs and she began to rub her vulva up and down the top of his thigh, causing her coat to drop back, revealing a shapely leg. She undid his shirt, carefully feeling her way along the path of the buttons and puller it back over his shoulders. She began to kiss and lick his chest, working her way down to his belly and back onto his cock while he completed the removal of his shirt.
Then she moved behind him, sat on her haunches, stroked his buttocks and began to lick his bottom, her tongue gently gliding up and down the cleft of his buttocks and bhe grunted appreciatively. After a while she began to work her tongue back and forth along his spine from the small of his back towards his shoulders, gradually standing up and she did so until she was kissing the back of his neck. Her hands reached to his front where she gripped his cock with one hand and began to work the shaft while she caressed his belly with the other. I could see he was enjoying himself but he suddenly broke away and said harshly, ”Now, on the bed.”
He took her by the hand and brought her round in front of me so she was standing by the end of the bed. He then lay her down until she was spread, her body naked and glamorous, with her white fur coat, soft, rich and glossy fanned out beneath her. He caressed her flesh, running his hand over her breasts and belly, plucking her nipples and softly working his fingers on the outside of her pussy while her hips undulated beneath him. And then he put one arm beneath her shoulder, raised her head to his mouth and kissed her. She responded, tightening her arms around his neck, pressing herself to him as his free hand worked deftly between her legs. I watched, captivated, as he slowly buried his fingers in her pussy, and her hips and buttocks writhed on his hand and she softly moaned. He played with her like this for some time.
Eventually, he got off the bed, took her by the ankles and pulled her towards him until her bottom rested at the edge of the mattress. He then knelt on the floor between her legs, placed his hands underneath her tights and lifted and parted them. I watched the back of his head as it moved from side to side, up and down and back and forth between her legs, and listened to her moans getting louder.
After a while, he pushed her thighs right back and spread her legs wide and I could hear the sound of his mouth sucking and licking and then he stood up, took hold of her ankles and pushed them back over her head. I could clearly see his magnificent cock, hanging between his legs, positioned over her luscious vulva which was plump and glistening, the delicate lips open and inviting. He began working the tip of his cock along the crease of her pussy, back and forth, massaging and teasing the soft flesh. He did this repeatedly ad she begged him to fill her, but still he continued, until I could hear the moistened lips of her pussy slurping in anticipation as they clung to his cock.
And then he slowly squeezed into her until his balls rested snugly against her. He began to fuck her, slowly at first then his pace increased and my attention was drawn to the muscles of his buttocks as they tensed with each thrust. The moans and groans were now accompanied by juicy, succulent sounds as his hips moved vigorously back and forth.
After a while he stopped. He was sweating now and breathing heavily. He pulled out of her, climbed onto bed and straddled her head.
”Lick my balls until I tell you to stop.”
She did as she was told, gripping his thighs, tending to his balls as thought they were ripe grapes hanging from a wine.
By the side of the chaise longue there was a large, oak – framed cheval mirror and he was now watching himself, enjoying the different perspective, seeing his actions from my point of view. he was quite unabashed; he cared about no on but himself. We really are very similar in many ways.
He spoke again, his voice sounding bored and irritated; all part of his game. ”That’s enough. Now lie face down. I want your knees up by your head and your buttocks high up in the air.”
She positioned herself as directed. Her bottom was so high that the coat slipped down her back and gathered in a great ruffle of fur around her shoulders. Her exposed lower back and raised bottom looked like the unsheathed shaft and glans of an enormous, white, furry cock. I found the sight extremely erotic. He climbed onto the bed, mounted her ad then began to fuck her with slow deliberate thrusts, while he gently caressed her exposed bottom and thighs; and as his excitement mounted his fucking became more passionate, almost frenzied. He grabbed handfuls of fur around her shoulders and began to pummel his hips into her, and her soft moaning turned to violent shouts and entreaties. She raised herself on her hands and her breasts swung out from the open coat and the pearls hanging from her nipples shone like droplets of lustrous semen as they rocked violently, beguilingly, back and forth, in time with his thrusts.
I could now feel the heat from their bodies, the warmth from their breath. The smell of sex filled the room. The noise, the heat, the movement, began to cloy my senses; I found it difficult to stay still. Their mouths were hanging open as they panted and grunted while he crushed into her from behind, ad then let out a strangled cry; the veins on his neck standing out, his face red and twisted, his hips pressed fully into her rear, his belly tight against her buttocks. He stayed like this for several seconds as though the suction of her cunt had sealed him to her and then he buckled, panting and exhausting, and fell back on the bed. She lay there, breathing heavily, her head resting on the sheets, her bottom still raised.
”My God”, she said, ”that was wonderful.”
I didn’t think so. I thought they looked like two dogs; a bitch in the heat with an old mongrel. The image amused but then unsettled and alarmed me as similar images, quite unbidden, began to flood my mind. Two fucking dogs were joined by a myriad other canines; a dog with a bone, a mad dog, an old dog, dogs running, snarling, whelping, panting, barking; fucking mad dogs, barking. I felt anxious then panicky. I let out a high pitched cry as the images crowded my mind, overwhelming and maddening me.
”What was that?” said the woman suddenly alert.
He peeled off her blindfold and she looked across at me, directly into my eyes. And then she smiled.
”Oh, you are beautiful!”
”I thought you’d like her.”
She came across and stroked my head. I bit her.
”Ow, you spiteful animal!”
He laughed. ”She’s very possessive I’m afraid, but I love her to bits. I like to think she’s the reincarnation of an Egyptian princess.”
The woman settled back on the bed and the two lovers caressed each other and he kissed her bitten hand.
The cat watched them, disdainfully, imperiously and with a little contempt. She lay back and stretched. She was bored with their antics. She didn’t like people; they were stupid, smelly and irritating. And they lacked style. The man who thought he owned her was a case in point.
Am avut doi ani nenorociti din care am scapat cu viata. Am stiut asta azi cand mi-am baut cafeaua fara sa fiu speriata ca e dimineata … iar.
Despre ce s-a intamplat, se vede ca nu am putut scrie
si nici nu cred ca voi putea. Citisem undeva ca tragediile nu se traiesc zilnic, ca vrei nu vrei dupa 24 de ore intervine acceptarea. Dar daca tragedia se afla tocmai in acceptare?
Mai citisem undeva ca doar traumele te maturizeaza. Asa o fi. Am implinit cateva sute de ani.
#EA vrea sa poarte o rochie albastra mulata, sa savureze un pahar de #sampanie, sa isi piarda mintile in luciul unui diamant cu un barbat greu de sedus intr-un local in care pretul nu conteaza.
#Eu vreau sa citesc Panza de paianjen de Cella Serghi, ca mi-e dor de limba mea, cu o tigara slim si un Pepsi rece cu multa gheata, ghemuita in patul meu.
Vinerea de obicei castig eu, Sambata EA, iar Duminica pierdem amandoua. Restul zilelor sunt traite pe pilot automat, jucate intr-un teatru cu masti si fantome, exprimate in momente filtrate bine pe Facebook.
Luptele mele se pierd in indoiala.
Toata saptamana asta am avut suflet de zapada, rece cum e Raiul catolic. Poate pentru ca a fost Valentine’s day.
There is nothing more precious than laughter
and scorn – It is strength to laugh
and lose oneself. to be
Tragedy is the most
ridiculous thing „man” has
but I’m sure that
and yet they do not exhibit their „pain”
in „theatres” neither open nor
„closed” (their „homes”).
and their pain is more real
than any image
that any man can
as painful. ____________________________
– So in the end, who was the predator and who was the prey? l-am intrebat eu cu lacrimi in ochi.
– Does it matter? We both died in the battle. Now it’s time for you to go.
If you don’t feed your demons, they will bite you.