Meetings

The anticipation was high,  that was like saying Niagara falls was a little waterfall.  The anticipation was palatable.  You could cut it like a knife.  It was a living, breathing thing with its own ideas.  He took a deep breath.  It was going to be alright.  You don't travel all this way to not go through with it.  It wasn't that hard.  All he had to do was open his mouth.  Hello.  How are you doing?  Five simple words.  Except,  nothing was ever simple for him. 
Sigh.  It wasn't supposed to be like this,  this nerve wracking,  this tense.  It was supposed to be smiles and hellos.  Greetings,  pleasantries.  Nice to meet you.  How are you doing?  But in his mind,  it was all the negatives, all down side.  He could feel the spiral building,  it was so easy now to just step on and ride it down.  Doubt,  self loathing,  depression,  anxiety,  they all lay ahead. 
He took a deep breath.  Calm down.  Breath.  It was her words in his mind.  The way they had been for weeks.  Calming him,  bringing him back to his ground.  How could someone he had never met have this effect on him?  How could he know someone he had never met? Life was full of questions.  Some had answers,  some didn't.  He could ponder the possibilities for decades. They were endless.  Instead,  he focused on the good.  The positive things.  The reason he was here,  the reason he climbed onto a plane to begin with.  She was this reason.  A new chance,  a new hope,  a possibility that he never expected to exist.  It scared him as much as it excited him. 
But all that was the past.  Right now was the future.  Just a few more moments and she would be there.  In the flesh,  right on front of him.  He swallowed hard,  the nervousness wouldn't go away.  Would she like him,  would she smile? Would she laugh,  would she dance? So many questions.  He had no answers,  no plan.  This scared him more.  Fear was trying to conquer him,  to control him again.  But if he still gave in to fear,  he would be back home sitting on the couch.  No,  he was going to win this time. 
He heard the crunch of gravel as she approached.  He had been so lost in his own mind that he had lost track of what was going on.  He looked up,  there she was.  Beautiful,  serene,  here.  He knew he appeared calm,  but that was just a facade.  Inside, his mind was spinning furiously.  What to say,  what to do.  Now was the moment,  now was the time to set the whole tone.  She stopped directly in front of him. Mere inches separated them.  She gazed into his eyes,  expectantly.  He started to speak,  but stopped.  His hand raised on its own accord,  brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.  Then not stopping there,  his hand slid behind her head and pulled her to him.  His mouth found hers,  and then they were kissing.  Deep,  intimate,  completing a connection that he thought only existed in his head. Wrapping his arms around,  still kissing,  he took her weight as he leaned get back.  It was they kind of kissing souls do when meeting their match. 
Finished,  he stood her up,  and whispered gently,  "hello".

On a leash

On a leash

The closer dug into her neck, choking her momentarily. This wasn't how her day was supposed to have gone. They were just going to meet for coffee. A quick meet and greet. Then they could from there. She was still fuzzy on what had happened, but not on the situation she was in. Naked, bound and being led into the woods, no this wasn't right at all.

He had seemed so nice, quiet, attentive, funny, attractive, the kind of guy who was dreamy. A catch for any woman, or so she had thought. Their conversation had been light, fun. She remembered going to the bathroom, coming back, finishing her coffee and then he suggested a walk in the park. She was into him, so why not? That's where things got fuzzy. She remembered walking into the park, but nothing else.

A hard tug on her leash brought feet back to reality. Any other time, she would love to be bound and leashed, but this was scary. She risked raising her eyes to her abductor. It was the same charming guy, except now in the shadows, he seemed harder and more sinister. She didn't look long, the bruises from her earlier spanking reminder her not to look at him. Or escape. She had tried running earlier. She didn't get far before he had caught her. She still could feel the roughness of his pants on her breasts. She shivered, and felt her nipples harden. As scary as it was, he was turning her on.

Suddenly, they came into a clearing in the middle of the woods. The man came to a stop, pulling her leash so that she came to a stop beside him. He turned his head, and looked her up and down. She felt a gush in her loins, and fear in her heart. She was going to die here. He smiled as if he knew what she was thinking. She opened her mouth to scream again, even if he beat her senseless. But he was ready, before she could finish drawing a breath, he was shoving a ball gag into her mouth. Quickly, he fastened it behind her head before she could struggle. Bound, gagged, and completely at his mercy, she really got scared. This was it, she feared.

He started walking again, pulling on her leash, towards the center of the clearing. There lay a fallen tree, about knee height off the ground. It looked like a bench of sorts with an opening between the ground and trunk. Walking straight the trunk, he stopped in front, pulling her beside him again. Turning, he put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her to her knees. Then, using his weight, he pushed her against the trunk and pulled her arms over the top. Undoing the leash, he attached to her hand restraints and then pulled it underneath. Making her stand again, he bent her over the tree and pulled the leash tight, tying her to the tree. Her breasts were sore from the rough bark and hurting. She was bent over and her ass in the air spread open.

Once she was secured, he stood behind her, caressing her ass. She was frightened, and turned on. She wanted to be spanked so bad, wanted him to fuck her so hard, her pussy started leaking. It was what he was waiting for, acceptance.

She heard him unzip his pants, and then heard them fall to the ground. She braced herself for the hard cock that she knew was coming, that she needed to come.

Slap!

The hand connecting with her ass surprised her.

Slap! The hand came again, harder. She came a little, her knees buckling slightly.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

He was alternating hands, hitting her quickly and hard, stinging, bringing tears to her eyes. Her pussy was pouring juices, her legs were wet. Then, with without any warning, he shoved his hard cock into her. Her pussy tightened around his shaft drawing him deep inside. She came, and came, her legs giving out. She was supported by his cock and the rough tree. It felt so good. He felt so good inside her. God, did she need this. Recovering, she stood and pushed her ass back into him, pushing his cock deeper inside her, saying fuck me, fuck me hard. Take me now.

He responded by pumping her hard. The motion was ripping the gentle skin of her breasts, causing them to bleed. She just bit the gag hard and let him fuck her. She would cum every few minutes, but he just kept thrusting. Finally, when she thought she just couldn't take anymore, he stopped. He pulled his cock from her soaking wet pussy. It was dripping with her juices. He walked around until he was facing her. Slowly, he removed her gag. She understood, she wanted to taste him, her juices on his cock. She wanted his cum in her, mouth or pussy, she needed it. She opened her mouth wide, he slid his cock in, all the way in, to the back of her throat. She gagged a little, then relaxed and opened her mouth wider. He started thrusting, she could his balls tighten, and she started swallowing. He plunged in deep, and blew his load down her throat.

Finished, he stepped back and looked at her. Finally speaking, he asked one question, "are ready to come home with me?"

My current earworm

Bloodshot eyes by trampled by turtles https://youtu.be/7kQC-9Tq-88

Dreams do come true

It had been a long tiring weekend. His family drove him nuts, and he was at a family get together, so there was no escaping. At least he had his own cabin. It was his refuge of peace, an oasis in the chaotic scene that he found himself in.
He had managed to extract himself for the night, claiming he wasn't feeling well. A night alone in his cabin is what he was searching for. Just some peace and quiet. He just got comfortable on the couch when there came a knock at the door. He grumbled to himself, they were still bothering him. For a minute, he considered not answering the door, pretending to be asleep. Then the knock came again, more incessant.
Sighing, he got up to answer the door. It was probably his nephew, the lad was always running around. Opening the door, her couldn't believe what he was seeing. She was there, in the flesh.  It was a dream come true. How many nights had he lain there, missing her touch? Wishing he could hold her, kiss her, tell her how much he loved her? It was unreal, he must be dreaming. That was it, fee had fallen asleep on the couch and was now dreaming.
As if she could sense his thoughts, like she was wont to do, she said, "yes, I'm really here", and walked inside, shutting the door behind her. He stared at her dumbfounded. Could she really be here? As she sat on the couch, he stumbled around to face her.
Opening his mouth to speak, she cut him off. She had a limited amount of time and it wasn't going to be spent conversing. He sat down beside her name, still trying to find the words. She kissed him hard, he lost his mind, tearing off her clothes in an effort to get her naked. His dreams coming true.
Half an hour later or more, he rolled over, smoked at her, and said, "hello. "

Words without meaning

I write a hundred things a day in my head,  but when I sit down nothing, nothing comes forth.  When I do write,  I fall asleep and erase it the next day because it's gibberish. 
I have the same conversation a hundred times.  I explain why I left,  I explain my silence.  But it's only to myself,  I've left sanity far behind. 
And life moves on,  and I become a distant memory. 
Now for sleep,  it's going to be a  busy week. 

No hope left

Im in paradise, and yet I'm unhappy. There's something wrong with me. There is no happiness left in my soul. Just moments of smiles. I wish I was a better person. I wish there wasn't something wrong with me. I wish I could be normal. I wish I was human.

Down the drain

The water cascaded down his face,  pouring through his hair,  trickling past eyes,  waterfalling off his nose and getting lost with the rest of the water falling to the floor.  For a moment,  he let the water flow through his mouth washing him clean.  The water was hot enough to create some steam, giving him the feeling that he was floating in the clouds.  He so wanted to get lost right now.
The shower poured down on him, but he would never be washed clean of his guilt. Some things haunt you forever. All his life, he had lived to the fullest, enjoying every minute, having no regrets. Until he met her. She changed everything. Every rule broken, every taboo revealed. Within such a short time, he knew her inside and out, like she was a part of him. He had never intended to let anyone in, but before he knew it age has taken up residence in his soul. A part of him.
He watched the water run down his arms, the water distorting the tattoos slightly. He wondered, briefly, if his love for tattoos were in some way his repentance for how he had behaved. Even distorted he could make out the skeleton key and lock. His heart on his sleeve. Such an apt metaphor.
He sighed deeply, the water was never going to wash away his guilt. The guilt of leaving, the guilt of loving, the guilt of longing, it ate his soul, drove him mad with desire, and never went away. Maybe that was why he was the way he was, messed up in the head, maybe it was all someone else's fault.
He smiled wryly, if only that were true. But he couldn't blame anyone other than himself for the choices he has made. Right or wrong, it was a choice. And he stood by it. Even when the longing drove him mad.
He turned off the water, it was doing no good anymore, he would never get the filth from inside out of him. He was cursed in that regards, damaged goods. The water flowed down his skin to the floor, and he just stood there watching it all drain away.
For some reason, he felt there should be some moral here, some heart wrenching decision, something. Maybe someone would burst into the bathroom and attack him. Nothing. The water was gone and he was empty again. But that was just the way life was.

Duty

There's a saying,  duty is heavier than a mountain,  death lighter than a feather.  So true.  So very true.  Life is changing constantly,  sometimes good,  sometimes bad, but the status quo rarely lasts for long.
So many responsibilities.  I'm not sure what happened,  how it got to be this way.  I used to believe being single meant you were free to go where you wanted when you wanted.  But my bills and debts speak otherwise.  Car note, hopefully soon to be house note,  student loans, etc etc.  Bills that must be paid.  Someone recently offered me a chance to move to Belize in two years.  I don't think I could leave the country simply because of the amount of debt that I'm in.  Choices.  My choices have led me here. 
I know I shouldn't be writing this.  I can't discuss anything in the open anymore.  Too many of the wrong type paying attention to my inner thoughts.
I'm dozing to sleep,  so I'll with this.  It's the little things that let me know. It's not the smile on your face,  or anything that people would notice.  But I do.  The fleur-de-lis,  symbols.  They connect us even through death.  Once a part of my bloodstream,  always a part of my bloodstream.  Gone but never forgotten.  How could i?

Escape

No matter how far you run,  how fast,  or how long, you can never escape the desire inside. 
I am the hulk.  I want to smash things. Because I hurt. 

Because I am alone. 

Because you aren't here. 

Never escaping.  Always running.

I'm tired.

Water runs by

It was the silence of a babbling brook. The utter perfect stillness of nature. A sound he had been seeking for so long, it sounded like pure heaven. It was a stillness that couldn't be duplicated. No sound machine would ever effectually capture the special quality that could only be found away from distractions.
His life was nothing but a constant distraction these days. There was no pretending it was otherwise. One job decreased only to have another opportunity present itself. Choices made, decisions, and there was no turning back now. Doctors giving him bad news, forcing him to change his life or die. Yes, life was full of stress.
But this, this little oasis, this was peace. He sat down beside the stream, gazing wistfully into its clear waters. He missed her. That would never change. He would always miss her. Because he couldn't be with her. Despite everything, that was all he ever wanted, attention. Sighing sadly, he gazed into the waters again. Like water down the stream, the time for regrets had passed. He had done the only thing he knew how to solve the problem. He had walked away. At least, tried his best. It's hard to walk away from your heart, your bloodstream.
Licking his lips in thirst, he dipped his cup into the stream. The water was pure and cool. Refreshing. Sating his thirst, he laid back thinking of her again.
Drifting off to sleep, he wondered if he would at least see her in a dream?

New song

https://youtu.be/nL17slQ8pWg

Dirty little story

She opened her eyes. Everything was black. She knew it should be daylight, but she couldn't see anything. After a few seconds, she realized she was blindfolded. Her heart started beating fast. What had happened. When she had gone to sleep, everything had been fine. She went to raise her arm to remove the blindfold, but couldn't. Her arm was tied up. With that realization, she became acutely aware of her body. She was completely tied up, spread slightly eagle on the bed. She could move slightly, it wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't expected.
Unable to see, unable to move, her other senses starred to compensate. She could feel the air on her skin, so she knew was naked. There was a fan blowing, she could feel the breeze blowing on her pussy. It was distracting, it felt good. She always had this fantasy about being tied up. She felt a warmth in her abdomen, she was turned on. But also frightened.
She had gone over to her friends house last night, and after a few glasses of wine and some dirty talk, had gone home with the flirtatious guy. He had been fantastic in bed, her pussy was still aching with the amount of sex. Aching for more. She needed a big cock inside her right now. Her nipples grew tight with desire, her pussy was on fire, but she had no way of releasing the flood gates.
While she lay there, turned on and on agony, she heard the sound of someone breathing. Was there someone else in the room? "Hello?" She called out. After sex, she had fallen asleep with him. She woke up like this. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she didn't have control, while that thought alone had her pussy leaking, it also frightened her.
She heard slow shuffling steps until whomever it was was right beside her. A moment of silence passed, and then something warm, soft but hard and thick pressed up against her lips. She fought to keep them closed, but it pressed harder. Finally, she could take it no longer, and opened her mouth. It was instantly filled with hard cock. The penis was pressed deep in her mouth, pushing her jaws apart filling her mouth with hard man meat. She wanted to spit it out, she wanted to cry. She wanted to taste it. Slowly she opened her mouth wider and begin to run her tongue along the shaft. It moved out a little, letting her lick the head. She went after it, licking it like a Lollipop. She started sucking and licking, all to the muffled sounds of moaning. She was pouring juices out of her pussy, about to explode. She needed hard cock inside her. And she needed it NOW!
Licking and sucking, she felt the shaft tightened. That was the only warning she had before his hit load filled her mouth. It was salty, bitter and thick. He pushed in deep, she had no choice but to swallow it down her throat. The head of his dick was already there anyway. Load after load she swallowed. She couldn't believe how much cum he had. As soon as he was done, he pulled out and walked away. Her pussy was screaming out for release, her jaws hurt, and she wanted more. Before she do more than take a few deep breaths, another, bigger cock was being pushed at her lips. "There were more people here," she thought. And the thought made her cum as she opened her mouth for the second, but not last cock of the event.
As she was sucking down, she felt fingers gliding down her swollen angry pussy. Before she could even gasp, a cock pushed inside her. She came and came and came, convulsing on the cock pushed deep inside her. With that release, she stopped sucking on the cock in her mouth. That wasn't acceptable as the cock started thrusting fucking her mouth. As she relaxed her jaws to enjoy it, the cock in her pussy started thrusting too. Sinking into a bliss, her only two thoughts were that there better be plenty of cocks, and that this better not be a one time affair.

Echoing in the depths without anyone ever knowing

Due to the graphic nature of this fictional piece, I strongly suggest you don't read this. In fact, I need to stop writing. This is going nowhere.

The pain was less than he imagined, but greater than expected. Nothing he did every worked right, he managed to acre up even the simplest of tasks. His curse, one of many. He just didn't fit in, and wasn't accepted. None of that really mattered anymore.
The water was warm, the right temperature. Everything had been prepared, down to the last detail. You couldn't really leave something like this to chance. He tried to sit back and relax, but it was taking too long. He should have anticipated this. Should have planned for it. Too late now.
He thought about all the decisions that brought him here. The choices, mostly wrong, the people, who he hurt without meaning. He never meant any harm. Just nothing ever went right. He could have given up years ago, but he kept after it, assuming he would eventually get it right. Assumption. Because here he was, screwing it up again.
He knew he was a disappointment. He could tell in people's faces. He could tell he was a failure, no one had to say anything. He had tried hard, people knew that. It simply wasn't enough. It would never be enough, he could never be anything other than what he was.
This was simply taking too long. He had done it right, but it was taking too long. Simply too much time. He didn't want to be thinking about the reasons why, he just wanted it done. He wanted the sweet peace of oblivion that awaited. He just wanted to die in peace.
He looked down at the red water, it would soon be done. He would soon be free.

Moonlight

He stared at the moon.  Perhaps it held the answers he sought.  Answers to questions unasked, unspoken.  Decisions,  decisions.  It was always about decisions.  Today's decision dictates tomorrows. And so forth.  Until you found yourself miles from your desires stuck on a road of your own decisions.  They all started out as a choice.  Left instead of right.  Yes instead of no.  Staying around inside of walking away. 
His path was his to walk,  dictated by no one.  This is what he thought when he had been younger.  The age gave him the experience to realize that nothing was so easy.  Her eyes were always upon him.  Watching.  Yes,  I know you follow,  that you're always watching.  That means nothing, except stalking. 
The moon remained silent.  Taunting him with the silence of knowing.  The moon knew it all.  Yet revealed nothing.
His dreams were the dreams of desires extinguished and buried.  The life he sought so desperately was merely a figment of a memory past.  The choices he had made assured he would never find happiness in the life he once craved. 
It was a bleak landscape he now found himself in.  No guide,  no map,  completely in uncharted waters sailing towards a destination unknown.  This wasn't the path he had prepared for.  This path was full of pitfalls and traps.  A tightrope to be walked delicately.  There was no opportunity for mistake.  A mistake now meant certain death.  A tightrope to be walked alone.  This path could only be walked alone. 
That was the message he received from the moon.  You can have all the support you wanted,  but in the end,  you have to walk the moon alone. 
Clearing his head of emotion,  closing his heart to everyone,  he secured his helmet and stepped out into the unknown,  unsure where anything lead.  If he had made his calculations right,  he would come out the other end a owner of the home he lived in, with a plan towards a future that is constantly changing.  Or dead.  But never defeated. 

My eyes focus on nothing,  slowly the sight blurs.  Nothing but a blur of colors.  It was better like this.  Not feeling,  not caring.  No heart. No hurt. 
He wanted to stay here,  lost in this moment,  feeling this pain.  This was where he belonged.  The real world didn't work for him.  He never fit in,  he didn't belong.  A relic of a time that no longer existed.  Born too late.
Just a moment longer.  Life was encroaching fast and there was no fighting it.  A life muted of color and alone.  A life he chose,  one he can't escape. 
Just a moment longer,  Alone cold.  Life has begun. 

Fly high

Fly high,  falcon of the night.
Fly away from your problems, 
Fly high,  out of sight. 
Fly as fast as you can go and leave your troubles behind. 
Fly to discover new sights, 
Fly to discover a different night. 
Fly,  and don't be scared, 
Life awaits you. 

It's no fun, chap 2

Chapter 2

Alice.
Holy fucking shit, he had done it now. Rabbit knew he was out of time. Frantically grabbing his meager belongings from the floor, Rabbit starting packing his ruck sack as quickly as possible.
Alice. Fuck. Everyone had heard of Alice. Not only was she the Queen's new paramour, but rumor had it she was the best hack this side of the continent. There was no way the Queen would go long without discovering Alice missing. He was dead. "I'm late," he muttered, "so fucking late."
Alice watched his rapid scamper about the room for a second, a slight bemused look on her face. Then she stood, retrieving her bra, and spoke. "Calm down, little man," she tried calming Rabbit down. "We have time, but not much. As I told you last night, when I hired you, that I had a hologram set up to fool my guards. But that won't fool the Queen."
Rabbit froze, "what she told him last night?" She hired him last night? He remembered none of this. Just how drunk had he really been? Looking at the beautiful Alice stand up, now clad in panties and bra, and reach for her clothes, Rabbit asked her just that question, somewhat involuntary.
Alice's replied, as she got dressed, "Apparently, a lot more than I thought. I hired you last night to get me out of Wonderland. You said you were the best smuggler in town, that no one would catch you. So I paid you to take me away from here. In cash, not credit. Check your bag, that's where you hid it."
Standing, Alice added, " But do it quick, we need to be going. I don't want to be running behind. I like my head on my shoulders. " Rabbit checked his bag, sure enough there was the sack full of coins. More than he would have expected. He must have charged her a ton, not believing her story. That sounded like him. "But why the sex, then?" Rabbit asked. He didn't usually mix business with pleasure.
Alice paused in closing her bag and smiled at him. "Because you have a penis and I love sex. And without the Queen, I can have whomever I want. Now, enough questions, we need to be going now. Where's your ship?"
"That's a good question," Rabbit thought. He honestly didn't know, and all this new information was starting to make his head hurt even more. Shouldering his bag, Rabbit led the way out of the room with Alice following behind. He might not know, but starting here wouldn't help him find it. Plus Alice was pretty insistent they leave right then.
Alice. Fucking Alice. What kind of shit had he gotten himself into now?

Opportunity

Every second of every day is a chance to change your life. All it takes is a simple decision. A "yes" instead of a "no". Simple decisions.
A dog that is beaten reaches a point where it trusts no one, because every person is associated with pain.
Simply walking away serves no purpose, I can never go far enough. I'm trapped in a hell of my own making. There is no other recourse for me then to stay my course. Even though my choices have been made for me. I've lost the control I had left. What I wanted didn't exist any way. This life isn't so bad. It doesn't really matter in the end.
I never promised life on a gold platter, and nothing can last forever. The dog doesn't hate people, just no longer wants anything from them. Life is a cruel mistress. You can have one thing, but not the other. Choices. I had none. People don't change, no matter how long you wait. But then, I turned down this path years ago. I blame no one but myself.
It's just as well, my masterpieces won't exist without pain to drive them. That's the secret of true works of art. The artist was driven by passion, pain, loneliness, and every other hurtful emotion. I am no different, expecting that I accept my fate. It's too hard fighting it any more.
You'll say you understand, you might even. But you never really will.

It's no fun, when Rabbit has a gun

Chapter one

Rabbit woke suddenly, disorientated. He opened his eyes, he was laying on his back. The ceiling above him was stained and spotted, the light in the room, dim. Rabbit was very thankful for this, because his head decided at that point to start pounding. "What a crazy night of drinking," he thought. But every night of drinking in Wonderland was that, crazy. You always lived every day as if it were your last here. Because it just might be.
Rabbit rolled to his side looking for a cigarette on the bedside table. It was littered with empty beer bottles, empty condom packets and empty cigarette packages. "How long had he been here?", Rabbit wondered. He was pretty sure only one night, but the evidence of that night were disturbing. Finally finding a cigarette and a pack of matches, Rabbit lit a cigarette, and took a long inhale of smoke. Exhaling, he tried to remember the night before. He was supposed to be doing something today, but what? All he could do was try not to focus on the drum band playing in his head, let alone think.
Laying there, smoking his cigarette, Rabbit felt the bed beside him move, and heard a soft feminine moan. He wasn't alone. "Well I guess that would explain all the condoms," Rabbit realized. Turning slowly, inhaling deeply, he looked at the woman beside him. She was laying on her stomach, her long blonde hair hanging to her shoulders. You could tell that she once took care of herself. Once. But not recently. The split ends of her hair spoke of mistreatment. The dirtiness of her hair and it's disheveled state spoke of drugs, alcohol, and sex. Her skin was smooth on her back. His eyes traveled down her back taking everything in. Down the curve of the back to the rise of her shapely buttocks. It was almost a perfect sight, almost. Except for the tattoo of a red heart on her back. The sign of the Queen. Property of the Queen, precisely.
"The fuck is going on?!" Rabbit muttered. Being caught with the property of the Queen was a quick way to get your head removed. The Queen was a fan of beheading people. An effective means of population control. Rabbit didn't want any part of that.
Pulling the last drag from his cigarette, Rabbit put it out in the ashtray. He looked again at the empty condom wrappers. Rabbit was pretty sure that the wrappers meant what he thought they meant. He was a walking dead man.
Standing, stretching, and scratching his balls, Rabbit moved through the trash on the floor to the bathroom. He still didn't remember trashing the hotel room this bad. A few minutes later, relieved, Rabbit came back into the room to gaze at the half naked woman laying in his bed. As if she felt his gaze, her eyes opened. She slowly took him in.
Rabbit wasn't much to look at any more. He was a bit on the small side, with long hair that was slicked back and solid white. Like it had been since Rabbit hit puberty. His skin was pale, but not the pale of an albino; no, his skin color was the color of someone who spent time indoors. He wasn't wearing much, having just woken up in boxers, but none of this seemed to bother the woman staring at the tip of his cock that was hanging out. He could see the  hunger in her eyes as she searched his crotch.
She sat up, her naked breasts sitting perkily on her chest. Her face was the most impressive part. She was breath takingly beautiful. The symmetrical features of her face would have made any artist weep. Rabbit found himself memorized. No wonder she lay in his bed. There was no way he ever pass up a chance at this, beheading or no beheading. Her full lips crooked slowly into a smile, as if she could read his mind. Which she probably didn't need to do, as Rabbit was sure his face was telling her everything. Or maybe it was the sight of his cock rising to full strength.
All of which dissipated when she spoke. "Yes, my dear, I would love to enjoy you again. But we must be going. We don't have much time." And with the sound of a ton of bricks falling, reality once again set in for Rabbit. How long did he really have before the Queen realized her plaything was missing, and started the search? He was already dead, but the longer he stayed here staring, the less of a head start he had. Literally.
Before Rabbit could open his mouth to agree, she added, "My name is Alice." Rabbit's mouth fell open. What kind of shit had he gotten himself into this time?

Stages of sanity

I look at the face in the mirror.  Is that me? I don't recognize this face. When did I change? Where have I been? 

I look at the picture is me in my youth,  so full of dreams,  so full of promise.  Where did that youth go? Where did his path stray?

I never meant to become the man I am today,  the stranger's face I see staring back at me.  The decisions I've made,  the choices I've taken, none of them matter.

The path, I once was set to walk, is blown away in the dust of time. Will I, too,  join this fate? Is there a way too change?

The face I see before me is not the man I've chosen,  but the man I've become. The outcome decided by the choices I've made.  I once tried to live a life with no regrets.  I now see that is simply not possible.  Regrets are inevitable when choices are made. 

With a life that's full of bumps,  I find myself once again crossing the minefield. This time, instead of curiosity drawing me forwards,  it's love leading me away.  Alone.  To a place where I belong,  a place where I can screw up no one else's life. 

I might one day be the most interesting man in the world.  But today,  I'm a man making hard decisions hurting the ones I love to make sure they have a happier life. 

Ides of march

In the darkness is where I belong, 
Alone with myself,  deserving. 
Happiness has long been a fleeting memory,
And I'm OK with that. 

In the darkness is where I belong,
Alone with my thoughts, 
The pain driving the process,
The anguish makes it real. 

In the darkness is where I belong, 
In my mind,  the darker thoughts dwell. 
Only alone can I keep them at bay, 
By myself I build the walls higher. 

In the darkness is where I belong, 
Far away from the sun,  and fun, 
And love which you share. 
I can't be the one who cares. 

In the darkness is where I belong, 
It's where I belong.  Where I can be free, where I can be me.  It's where you don't exist and people don't come. 
It's my only world now. 

If only time stood still

Some things never changed. The empty bed. The empty seat. The mirror as it stared back at him. He wished it was different, he wished he could turn back the years. Stay the same age as when they last saw each other.
He missed her like the sun misses the moon, like light misses darkness. But nothing changed. Day after day, week upon week, months piling up and then the years passed. Nothing changed.
A simple statement, a joking request it was. It changed his life forever. After meeting her, he simply couldn't forget. She entered into his bloodstream, she became part of him. Forever changed.
Yet nothing changed. In love, but not loved. Desperate for attention, but only ignored. He lost track of the amount of time he checked his phone, praying for a text, an email, a phone call, a picture, anything to let him know she was thinking of him. Nothing came. He wore out several batteries and replaced phones. Nothing.
He learned to be alone, to survive. It didn't change his burning desires, it didn't quench his thirst for her. A man dying of thirst in the desert didn't want water as much as he wanted her.
Nothing changed.
No matter how much she made his blood boil. No matter how much he longed for her love, nothing changed.
Except him.

Valentine's day

His eyes were heavy, they kept wanting to close. He needed sleep so desperately, it left a bad taste in his mouth. He should have been asleep hours ago. Instead, here he was, gripping the steering wheel tightly, driving way too fast.
He had to be there when she woke up. He had to have the flowers in place, chocolates, coffee ready, etc. It was to be the perfect wake up. She would be totally surprised to see him. He was supposed to be hours away, which is why he was so tired. He hadn't been to sleep, instead choosing to drive halfway across the south just to be in her arms.
She felt she was taken for granted, that he didn't care. She was afraid that the best times they had lay behind them. It would end like all the rest, predictable and unsatisfactory. She wanted romance, she wanted excitement, she felt he provided none of that. He was determined to change that. He was determined to show her what love truly was about. Every day a new experience because of the one you were with. Every challenge accepted and enjoyed because it allowed you to spend time with each other.
He pressed the accelerator, he had to make up time. He had to be there when she woke. He needed to look in her eyes and tell her he loved her. He needed to show her that there was a different way. He needed her in ways he didn't fully understand, but knew would take a lifetime of growing together to achieve. Some things had to be felt rather than spoken.
He looked at the clock. He wasn't going to make it. No matter the speed, or traffic laws he broke, she was going to be gone when he arrived. He had failed. He wouldn't get to see her, he wouldn't get to look her in the eye and say "goodbye".

Mighty sick

The alarm sounded. It was time to get up. She couldn't move, every joint in her body ached. She put her hand to her head. Yup, it was warm. She was running a fever, but she had to go to work today. It was a big day of installing the new software, and she was sick. Running a freaking fever. She couldn't miss work, but her body was telling her to go back to sleep.
The alarm went off again. She didn't even realize she had dozed back off. She looked at the clock. She was 3 hours late for work. Rolling over, she picked up her phone. 6 missed calls from work, 1 text from him. She called work, explaining she was sick and couldn't come in. Her boss wanted to hear no excuses, but after speaking with her for a few minutes, even he couldn't deny the validity of her excuse. She was excused from work today. Now to get some rest. Oh, wait, she needed to check his text.
Laying in the bed, she read his text. "Good morning, love". A simple enough text, but in her feverish condition, she started crying. It was too much for her. Without realizing it, she had text him that she was dying sick and that she couldn't take care of herself.
The phone hit her on the chest, it had fallen out of her hands as she dozed off again. Snuggling down into the blankets, she drifted off into dreamland.
She dreamed that he showed up, tidied the house, made her soup, gave her a massage, took care of her. She longed for his touch, his smell. To be able to snuggle down into his chest and feel his warmth, feel his body pressed against hers. She dreamed he held her and rocked her against his body, putting her into a deep healing sleep.
She woke hours later, disorientated, alone. She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering about the crazy dream she had had.
"It had to have been a dream," she murmured as she opened the fridge door. A dream. But then she saw the fresh soup in the fridge, and she couldn't help but wondering if it had been real all along.

Namaste

He sat quietly, trying to relax. He was supposed to be meditating, but he couldn't turn off his brain today. So many thoughts running through his mind, he felt a gnat flitting every which way.
Breathe. A deep breath, exhale. Again.
It just wasn't working. He felt his shoulder ache from the weather front moving in. He rolled his shoulder, relieving some pressure. His nose itched, his foot hurt, all the inconsequential things pressing into his consciousness. His mind was supposed to be clear.
It was all mindless rubble designed to keep him from thinking about the real problem. The one that wouldn't let him achieve his center. Her. She was always on his mind. A drug, an obsession, as vital to him as his heart. She pumped through his veins like heroin, quicker than any drug, more powerful than all the drugs combined. She was in his blood stream.
He breathed deep, trying to focus on nothing, to calm his brain and slow his heart. It was like riding a kayak through a tsunami. His heart raced at the thought of her, boiling his blood making it hard to think, hard to breathe. He wanted to hold her and never let go.
He shook his head, this was going nowhere. He couldn't focus and now he was sexually frustrated. Taking a deep relaxing breath, he tried to forget and focus on nothing. It didn't work, he loved hearing her voice, the sound of her laughter, the electric touch of her hand on his skin.
He opened his eyes, and sighed. He wanted to be with her so bad, and there was no possible way. No matter the scenario, it never worked out. Why did life have to be so cruel?

Acquisitions and mergers

She awoke scared. Scared because she was bound, gagged, and naked. Her fear was palatable, her heart beating in her chest, her breath coming quicker. She thought about what might be on the gag and felt bile rise in her throat. This was something from a nightmare.
She forced herself to start calming down, taking deep breaths to slow her panic and heart rate. She started taking stock of the situation. She was tied to all four posts of the bed, her legs and arms stretched wide and held tight with a silky material. She could turn her head and lift it, but that was the most movement she could accomplish with her limbs tight.
Her breathing slowed, she scanned the room. In the low light, she could make out things that led her to believe that she was in her own room. But who had tied her so? She listened intently for any sound of movement, something that might give away who was out there. The only sound that she could hear was the tick of her grandfather clock. At least she could hear what time it was, when it chimed. But that could be an hour from now, and she was still tied up.
Looking down her body, she got slightly distracted by the slight of herself helplessly tied up. Her ample bosom moving up and down with her excited breath. Her stomach tightened in fear, her pussy spread open to the world. The thought excited her, and she could feel herself get moist. She was frightened and turned on. The fact that she was turned on turned her on more and she could feel her pussy start to leak. Once started, she couldn't control it, and she started imagining scenarios that were going to happen.

Someone had broken in, was robbing her and would soon come have their way with her. (Her pussy was slick now)

An old boyfriend had broken in and was going to pleasure himself one more time. (She could feel her juices running down her ass crack, she was so horny)

The guy she had come home with was going to satisfy her deepest desires. (She came with that thought. A whimper escaped her mouth.)

Fear flooded her mind as a shadow in the corner stood up. Someone was in the room the whole time! Her screams of fear were choked down by the gag in her mouth. The shadow came closer, revealing itself to be the one she feared and desired the most. The sight of him brought waves of ecstasy and fear. He had disappeared and here he was standing over her.
The smell of her cum filled the room. He leaned over her and spoke the only words that were spoken between them. "You're going to enjoy this as much as I am." And with that, he ran a hand up her leg, starting at her knee, down her inner thigh until he touched her swollen lips with two fingers. He could feel the moisture behind them, waiting to be released. Her skin had tightened with his initial touch, causing her skin to pebble. But now it was smooth and inviting.
Pushing his middle finger slightly, he broke the seal of her glories, releasing a torrent of juices. Not wishing to be wasteful, he leaned over and attached his mouth to her mound. His tongue pushed inside her sliding down one wall, across a g spot and then to the other side. And back. Her head thrashed with the waves of pleasure he was creating until she could back no more and came into his mouth. He lapped up every bit, draining her as best as he could. His thirst quenched, he slowly moved up over her until his aching hard member pushed slightly at her entrance.
Holding himself above her, he made intense eye contact as his cock pushed past her outer lips and slid deep inside her, penetrating her to he was completely inside. In that moment, as they were joined at one, she drifted off to that place inside. She felt so full, so complete that she forgot about being bound and gagged. As he started thrusting, she drifted deeper into ecstasy, riding each orgasim as if it were a wave. She came back to faster thrusting as he neared completion.
She could feel a massive orgasim approaching. A few more thrusts and they came in concert. She saw stars and lay back floating. He pulled out and laid beside her.
"Just a minute, and we'll go again" came his low promise. And now the restraints made sense to her. He needed marathon sex and this was a way to get it from her. As she felt him lean over and start lucking her nipple, she relaxed. It was going to be hours of fucking, but she needed as much as he did.

The legend of Durt McGurten chap 2

The Legend of Durt McGurten
as told by B.Z. Whiddum

Chapter 2

Fred set down his beer. It was cool, not ice cold anymore. He could tell it had been sitting there for a while by the rings of water it left on the table. The rings were slowly pooling together to make a puddle. Fred couldn't help but get lost in thought while drinking beer. He thought about all the lost friends. Those who had gone on to the other side of life, and those who had just drifted away.
It was a hot Saturday afternoon. Fred had been working all day, and now he wanted to just sit and have a beer. Like he used to do with UNC and Durty. As if on cue, the screen door screeched open and then slammed shut. Jellybean had come outside. But not without consequence, Fred could hear Jellybean's Granny yelling out of the house, "Don't be slamming my doors, boy! I'll tan your hide!"
Fred snorted to himself, she liked saying that, but not doing it. By now, the threat had worn off. Jellybean made his way over to his uncle Fred. "Whatcha doing uncle Fred?" The child was insatiably curious. Fred couldn't stop himself from messing with the boy.
"Sitting here trying to figure where to hide your dead body." Fred replied deadpan. The boy froze. He knew his uncle teased him, but he wasn't sure if that was a threat or joke. Fred chuckled and continued before Jellybean could run off in fear. "Because if you keep slamming that door, your granny is going to kill you." The boy breathed a sigh of relief and sat down across from his uncle at the picnic table.
Fred looked at the mischievous boy across from him. Jellybean looked more and more like his dad every day. The resemblance was incredible. "You look more and more like your daddy every day.", Fred remarked. Jellybean squirmed a little, he didn't always like the comparison.
"Will you tell me a story, uncle Fred?" Jellybean pleaded with his whole body, looking as innocent and wistful as possible. Taking a swallow of his rapidly warming beer, Fred looked at boy. Knowing full well what kind of story the boy wanted to hear, Fred decided to play along. "What kind of story do you want to hear?"
Jellybean was quiet for a moment, then he asked, "Why do they call you Fred?" Fred looked at the boy for a long minute, the boy fidgeted with the scrutiny. "Now that is a good question, and a decent story to go with it." Fred took another swallow of his beer. "A very good story indeed.

"Like all stories, this one started with a party, it seems. Well, more than one party in this case. You see, Jelly, your dad and I grew up in different worlds, even though we went to the same school. My parents set a hard line between what they considered "right" and what they considered "wrong". So after I graduated high school and started hanging out and partying, I realized that I really didn't want to let word get back to my parents of what I was doing. So at this time, I was constantly using an alias. I typically used a simple name like Bob." Fred was in full blown storyteller mode. He was relaxed from the bet, and the words just flowed.
Continuing, Fred said, "So the story of my nickname began before I started hanging out with your pops. At the time, I was hanging out with my friend, Judd. He was throwing a party at his house, and I was there, just having fun when I ran into an old friend, David. He and I were shooting the shit, catching up, when some random girl came up to me and said, "I know you, what's your name?""
Jellybean was on the edge of his seat, enthralled, imagining this world that his uncle was describing. Fred took another swallow of beer. It was almost gone. He needed another, but was caught up in his own story and wanted to finish it first.
"Now, I didn't know this girl, and I wasn't sure what she thought she knew about me. And well, I just didn't want to find out either. So before I knew it, my drunken mind was responding. " You don't know me, because I don't know who you are. " My logic was sound. She replied with saying what my real name was. I freaked, maybe she really did know me, but I definitely couldn't remember her. But before I could say anything, she turned to my friend and told him she knew him too. Then she called him by his real name. All I could think of was, who was this person and why were they here. My friend saved me though. He responded right quickly with, "no, you don't know us. My name is Fred and his name is Bob." Whew, I was saved. I quickly seconded this notion. We spent the next hour messing with this girl, denying our true identities. It was a great party."
Fred looked down at his empty beer. He then looked at his rapt audience, and decided that no labor was better than child labor. Laughing to himself about all the things that was wrong with that thought, Fred spoke to Jelly, "Go over to that fridge and get your uncle a beer, and get yourself a coke. But be quiet so your granny doesn't hear you and get us in trouble." Jelly nodded his head and jumped right up. "Yup, you gotta train them young to mind." Fred thought to himself. While he was waiting on the boy to get back, Fred pulled out his one hitter, and took a few pulls. Just getting his head right. Exhaling, Fred saw Jellybean walking back to him with a beer and a come. Fred grinned, the boy even walked like his daddy. "I guess some things are genetic," Fred mused.
Taking the beer from Jelly, the boy seated himself and took a pull from his coke. Fred popped the top, and looked at Jelly. "That was your grandpa's favorite sound. Yeah, UNC liked to drink, but he was a good man." Fred paused, getting lost in the memories. Jelly sat patiently for a minute, but only a minute, he was a young boy after all. The fidgeting brought Fred back to the present. Remembering the story, but not sure where he was at, he asked Jelly just that. "So, where was I?" He queried Jelly. Jelly responded, "you were at the party." Jelly was fully involved in the story.
Fred paused, then spoke. "The first party or the second?" He asked Jelly. The confused look on the boy's face was answer enough for Fred. "So, we left that party confusing that poor girl. The next weekend, your pops threw a party. I'm outside the apartment where your dad, Durty, lived at the time with your grandpa, UNC, his girlfriend, Shells, and their chiwawa, killer b, just having a beer talking with some friends of your pops when these girls came up. I later learned their names, Booty and Mex, but this was the first time I had met them so I didn't know their names yet. So these two don't know me either, and they wanted to know my name. I thought to myself, " here we go again. Another group of broads that wanted to know my name." Of course I didn't want to tell them my real name, so I said my name was "Bob". The guys I was talking to laughed as they knew that wasn't my real name. The girls weren't stupid and quickly picked up that this wasn't my name." Fred took another swallow of beer. He was drunk now. He looked at his phone. It was almost his bed time. He knew it was fixing to be the boy's bed time. Time to wrap this story up.
Speaking again, Fred picked up the pace of the story. "The girls immediately started to argue that this wasn't my name. Then Booty said I looked like a Fred. Then Mex chimed in with the fact I looked like sponge Bob, a popular cartoon character of the time, and boom! They started calling me " Fred Bob Squarepants". Your aunt Booty still calls me that. But Durty came to my rescue, walking up saying that they couldn't call me that, that my name was Fred Bob, Jr. And it stuck. A few months later, your pops convinced me to get it takes on my arm, but that's a story for another day." Fred swallowed the last of his beer. He looked over at Jellybean, the boy hadn't hardly had any of his coke, and his head was nodding on his chest. Fred smiled and picked the boy up. Jelly stirred, waking up slightly. To reassure him, Fred spoke calmly, "It's time for bed." Jelly nodded sleepily.
Fred carried the boy inside and put him into bed. As he was tucking in Jelly, the boy asked a sleepy question. "Where did my nickname come from?" Fred started laughing. "That's a quick story," he replied, "the first time your granny saw you, she said you were so cute she just eat you up like a jellybean. And it stuck." Fred kept on chuckling, teasing the boy slightly, "You had just better be glad your granny doesn't eat human."
Jelly was silent for a moment, then came his sleepy reply. "I wouldn't taste very good, I didn't bathe today." Fred threw back his head in amusement, laughing loudly. "Sleep well, boy. Tomorrow, if you're good we can go fishing at the pond." Jelly smiled and curled into his blankets drifting off into slumber. Fred walked out  of the room, turning out the lights, still chuckling to himself. "That boy was every bit his father."

Rowboat of life

The oars creaked as he rowed. It was the only sound beside the slap of the waves against his boat. It was a small boat, just a rowboat really. A small boat that had no business being this far out at sea. One rogue Wave and that was the end of this little adventure and possibly him.
He could see the town in the distance. He still wasn't far enough, but then nothing was ever far enough to get away from the torture in his soul. That was the reality that confronted him every single day, no matter how far he ran, or how quickly he tried to escape, he always failed. You can't run from your own nature is what he finally realized.
That was the conclusion he had come too. You can't outrun what and who you are. You can't outrun your heart or your desires. They are part of you and what makes you unique.
He didn't want to be a unique snowflake. He wanted anonymity, he wanted to go through the day without desiring her. Without missing her company. Her charm, her wit. He just wanted a day of peace.
Pulling the oars into the boat, he sat back and listened. This far out to sea, only the sounds of the ocean were present. The current was pulling him deeper to sea. He was OK with this, just letting nature dictate his path.
The fog was thickening, and with it muffling sounds. Soon he was floating in a foggy void. He could no longer see the town, no longer hear the waves. It was silent.
Silence that was broken as he moved his foot. The chain tired around his ankle clinked as it drug along the bottom of the boat. His eyes moved you the chain in the dim light of his lantern, eventually resting upon the weight tied to the other end. All he had to was pick up the weight and jump. Nature would take care of the rest. He wondered if he would feel much. He assumed it would hurt to die, but now he wondered.
He knew these were other alternatives. He knew this wasn't the only path available to him. He knew lots of things. He knew he loved her. He knew she only cared for him. The distinction was huge. But inconsequential. For no matter how much she cared for him, she didn't want to be with him. And that hurt the worst.
He lifted the weight, it was heavy. He hoped it would be heavy enough to pull him down. He wasn't sure of the math, it wasn't like this is something you could practice. He just needed enough weight to pull him down under the water. Nature would do the rest.
He sat down in the boat. He knew it was almost time. At least this way, she could live a normal life. One that didn't involve him. He was diseased and cursed, no one was safe around him. He knew he wouldn't be missed for long, maybe not even at all. He looked over the side of the boat. It was time.

Aches and pains

It was raining again. The rain made his bones hurt. His joints swelled, and the bones ground together. Walking hurt, moving hurt, hell even breathing hurt sometimes.
Rain or no rain, his heart hurt. It had hurt for so long that it had become part of him. He couldn't imagine life without the constant pain reminding him of what he lost. He hated the rain. Ironic that he lived in such a rainy place.
He slowly picked up the bottle of ibuprofen. His hands hurt, they also shook slightly. He gazed at the wrinkled, sun spotted hand before him. The skin frail and hanging away from the bone. He had left youth long behind. The hands were of a man who had seen too many harsh winters and sweated through too many of a summer.
They were the hands that had held lovers hands in their own, caressed many a small of a back, held countless children, and yet only have known sorrow. He had accomplished so many things with these hands only to find them useless in accomplishing the one thing he desired. They couldn't keep her with him. They couldn't hold her back. His hands, his love, himself, they just weren't enough for her.
He could feel the tears leaking down his face. His skin was that of parchment, he could almost feel it cracking from the weight of the sweat.
He laid his heart at her feet, and she ground it into dust. And although this was all ancient history, he had nothing left in his old age but regret. He had never expected to live this long, he thought would have died years ago in the 40's. But he survived. He survived the wars, the purges and everything else. He had survived, but of her he never learned. Did she survive, did she escape, did she miss him? They were the questions that burned his soul.
The rain was gushing now, a torrential downpour. The ibuprofen was kicking in and his joints were loosening up. Soon he would be able to attain a resemblance of his former self. But for now, he just silently wept. As he did every time he thought of her.

Relief

The rain was coming down heavy now.  He could hear it beating on the tin roof of the cabin.  His home now.  He had escaped to his refuge.  He was finally free. 
It hadn't been easy escaping the trappings of life. It was hard to walk away from everything.  The instantaneous gratification of answering the telephone,  or turning on a lamp.  Driving across town to go eat somewhere.  Now,  he had to work for his food. He had to hunt to find meat, or fish.  There were no grocery markets around the corner.  Self sufficient. 
But it was much simpler.  Easier to forget the outside world . He had the opportunity to live a simple existence.  And he needed simplicity. 
He couldn't get over her,  he couldn't function in normal society.  All he could think about was her. Drawn to her like a moth to flames. And she wanted nothing to do with him.  Her actions were slight and sinuous. Completely entrancing. 
Even now,  when she was nowhere around,  she was disturbing him.  His desire was incendiary.  He wanted to burn the world to the ground.
Taking a deep breath,  he slowly exhaled listening to the rain fall.  This was why he ran away.  Why he left.  He loved her so much that it was destroying him.  So he ran,  isolation.  To the end of his days.  It was better this way. 

Confusion

He sat up in the bed, slowly turning to the side and placing his feet on the floor. He was doing his utmost to be quiet. He didn't want to wake her up. He turned to look at her sleeping form beside him. She wouldn't wake if he was careful. He had made sure she was worn out. Good sex does that to a woman. He knew that.
The moonlight came in softly through the window, accentuating her curves. It gave relief to the peaks and valleys on the sheet, making her seem more voluptuous than she really was. He felt a slight twinge of sadness for her. He knew she really liked him, but he couldn't say the same. Sex had just been a means of relief, one he needed. But that was all he wanted.
He wished he could feel something more than sexual attraction for someone other than his goddess. But She had taken his heart, and there was no room for anyone else. His flesh still had needs, so he allowed himself dalliances such as this one. But they always ended badly. No one ever believed him when he said that he just wanted to have fun.
Slowly, he pulled his pants up his legs. Just halfway though, so he could tie his shoes. This wasn't his first time, he had learned his lessons well. The first thing to put on was always the shoes. You never knew when you had to run. Shoes tied, he pulled up his pants, inch by inch, standing in the process. He was almost home free. Just a few more articles of clothing and then he was out.
She moaned in her sleep and rolled towards where he should be slumbering. A crucial moment has arisen. If she didn't feel him laying beside her, she might wake and catch him half gone. This would be bad. Quickly thinking on his feet, he moved a pillow into the place where he should be laying. Not a moment too soon, as her hand came in contact with the pillow and she just snuggled into the covers deeper.
Whew, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had his shoes on, he would have ran, but better not to be faced with that decision. Slowly bending down, he picked up his shirt and pulled it on. Usually this sort of thing wouldn't matter. He normally tried to find the type of woman that didn't care if you fucked and fled, but sometimes plans go awry. Fully dressed, he looked down at her face. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't the one he loved. However, she could suck a dick.
Knowing if he hesitated any longer, he would be fucking her again, he left. He left knowing she would be hurt and angry. He left knowing she would carry a grudge and do her best to ruin him. He left. Because she wasn't the one he desired.

Pieces

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. Was this what other people saw? He scrutinized the face staring back at him. The curves of the nose, flaring in frustration. The eyes sunken and bloodshot, the dark circles underneath emphasizing the lost hours of sleep. The eyes were that of a madman. Did people see the monster inside? Momentarily, he fought for control; the monster wanted to burn this world to the ground. Regaining control, he knew that one day he wouldn't, and god help us all then.
Back to the stranger that presented itself to him as his reflection, he couldn't help but realize that he looked like a criminal. Was that the reason that people turned from him in fright? He hated the looks he got, he wasn't a bad person. Just haunted.
He looked down at his hands in the sink, resting on the edge. They were the hands of an old man. Wrinkled and broken, the knuckles swollen and bruised. Too many years doing hard labor will destroy a man. It only took his hands.
Eyes losing focus, he thought about his life. The choices he had made, the people lost. Those gone but never forgotten, he wished he could forget. Ghosts haunted him, memories tormenting. Having found heaven, he found himself wandering alone in hell. He choked back a sob. He wasn't going to think about her, he missed her so much. But she didn't want to be with him, there was something wrong with him, something diseased. He knew it, they all knew it. That's why no one wanted to be with him. He was diseased.
He looked back up at the face in the mirror, distorted now into a million reflections. The glass was shattered, like his soul. He loved only to be cast aside. He gave his all only to be found lacking.
He looked down at his hand in the sink. The blood pouring from the gash in his hand was crimson red against the white porcelain. Diseased. You could see it in the blood, he could feel it on his bones. He looked back at the monster in the mirror. He was the monster, and everyone saw it.
Blood pouring from his wound, he knew there was no hiding it anymore.