Another night in Paradise
What kind of creature is the female? That question has just about made everyone that has a penis between their thighs tremble and quiver. I have the easy answer. I have figured it out.
The female is the female.
Sound simplistic? Perhaps, but the truth is far deeper than that little sentence seems to be. Sure, it looks short and without any real thought, but who am I if not a deep thinker? The female is the female, to me, means that each is their own person. You can't figure out women as a whole because each of them is so totally different. What applies to one doesn't apply to another. There's absolutely no way you can understand "women". You understand "a woman". That's the key, fellas.
Not that it's that easy, either. I mean, "a woman" is just as complex as anything you could ever chance across. It can take years for you to decipher what one woman is, and even then, the old axiom does apply: a woman has the right to change her mind. Think of it like trying to diffuse a nuclear warhead. The sweat is dripping down your forehead. The detonator and wires are right in front of you. You know that the time is ticking down.. the warhead is about to make your hometown look like the moon. You also know (through your years of training) that you need to cut the blue wire. Just as you are about to cut it, though, the nuclear warhead changes it's mind...
I think the red one will be my power cord from now on.
It's as simple as that. So, what to do? Does it seem hopeless now? It's neither hopeless or easy. The truth of it, like the truths of many things, is murky and grey.
How do you please a woman?
Each is different. Each needs something different, and usually that something different changes with each day, hour, or even minute.
..............................yeah.
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I think I'm being too cerebral about it all, trying to write something instead of just -writing-, so fuck it, I'm just going to write. Just let it all flow and see where it goes, damn the gods and rape the kitties.
Yes, I actually thought that, so I wrote it. Not that I want to fuck kitties or anything. Pussies, yes. Kitties, eh, no. Not really my thing, you know?
So here I am, sitting next to Sam while she plays Dungeon Master, pondering what to do. I have this feeling that I shouldn't have come home from work. I should have just toughed it out and not been such a wimp. If I hadn't had come home, then Sam wouldn't have gotten into such a fight with Deneb. How is it, seriously, that if I think about anything that happens, I can usually trace it back to myself? It's quite disconcerting to think you are the central figure as to why things happen.
It must suck to be one of those people. What the fuck are they called.. I don't know. On to the next thought, since they are coming on now..
So I just look over at Sam and I smile. You know how hard that is to find? Thanks, Stephen. Thanks, Tom. I'm not trying to be a dick, really, and I've still got certain walls up inside me somewhere, just in case. But things seem to be going good. We hit on so many levels it's scary sometimes. I might be a little more passive than I should be, more than Sam needs, but it's a time to adjust. I've found a place inside me that has a controller, a dominant. Been reading books on it. Oh, which reminds me. I should probably take a look online and see what people say here too.
Right now, though, I just want to walk over to Sam and lead her into the bedroom so I can hold her, talk to her, spank her, do whatever it is that she needs to just relax and be comfortable. I have to honestly say I don't like it when she's like this. Not that I don't like her. I love her. It just pains me to see that she is in distress and it's hard for me to ferret out what exactly to do. That's why I started this post the way I did. Am I doing things correctly? I seem to be.
"You're not going to want to get in here," she said.
"Why not?" I said. "You taking another hot shower?"
She nodded. "You're not going to like it."
"I don't care," I said.
"What?"
"I said, I don't fucking care."
And then I climbed into the scorching hot shower with her. I don't care about a little discomfirt. I needed to make her feel comforted and protected. She needed to know someone was really on her side, and I am. No matter what, I'm going to support her. Come heaven or hell, from this point out, we're a team.
Which makes me kinda.. nervous. If she were to wake up tomorrow and decide that she want to leave, I'd be brokenhearted, but I would let her leave, of course, and I would wish her the best and remain friends with her until one of us died. Do I.. fuck. I don't remember what I was going to type.
I am so tired. It just hit me. I closed my eyes and felt myself going out. I should end this here. I have someone I need to take care of. Someone that's trusted me with her love, with her body, with her everything. I've never been given so much. It's an awesome responsibility, but it's one I take on willingly.
The female is the female.
Sound simplistic? Perhaps, but the truth is far deeper than that little sentence seems to be. Sure, it looks short and without any real thought, but who am I if not a deep thinker? The female is the female, to me, means that each is their own person. You can't figure out women as a whole because each of them is so totally different. What applies to one doesn't apply to another. There's absolutely no way you can understand "women". You understand "a woman". That's the key, fellas.
Not that it's that easy, either. I mean, "a woman" is just as complex as anything you could ever chance across. It can take years for you to decipher what one woman is, and even then, the old axiom does apply: a woman has the right to change her mind. Think of it like trying to diffuse a nuclear warhead. The sweat is dripping down your forehead. The detonator and wires are right in front of you. You know that the time is ticking down.. the warhead is about to make your hometown look like the moon. You also know (through your years of training) that you need to cut the blue wire. Just as you are about to cut it, though, the nuclear warhead changes it's mind...
I think the red one will be my power cord from now on.
It's as simple as that. So, what to do? Does it seem hopeless now? It's neither hopeless or easy. The truth of it, like the truths of many things, is murky and grey.
How do you please a woman?
Each is different. Each needs something different, and usually that something different changes with each day, hour, or even minute.
..............................yeah.
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I think I'm being too cerebral about it all, trying to write something instead of just -writing-, so fuck it, I'm just going to write. Just let it all flow and see where it goes, damn the gods and rape the kitties.
Yes, I actually thought that, so I wrote it. Not that I want to fuck kitties or anything. Pussies, yes. Kitties, eh, no. Not really my thing, you know?
So here I am, sitting next to Sam while she plays Dungeon Master, pondering what to do. I have this feeling that I shouldn't have come home from work. I should have just toughed it out and not been such a wimp. If I hadn't had come home, then Sam wouldn't have gotten into such a fight with Deneb. How is it, seriously, that if I think about anything that happens, I can usually trace it back to myself? It's quite disconcerting to think you are the central figure as to why things happen.
It must suck to be one of those people. What the fuck are they called.. I don't know. On to the next thought, since they are coming on now..
So I just look over at Sam and I smile. You know how hard that is to find? Thanks, Stephen. Thanks, Tom. I'm not trying to be a dick, really, and I've still got certain walls up inside me somewhere, just in case. But things seem to be going good. We hit on so many levels it's scary sometimes. I might be a little more passive than I should be, more than Sam needs, but it's a time to adjust. I've found a place inside me that has a controller, a dominant. Been reading books on it. Oh, which reminds me. I should probably take a look online and see what people say here too.
Right now, though, I just want to walk over to Sam and lead her into the bedroom so I can hold her, talk to her, spank her, do whatever it is that she needs to just relax and be comfortable. I have to honestly say I don't like it when she's like this. Not that I don't like her. I love her. It just pains me to see that she is in distress and it's hard for me to ferret out what exactly to do. That's why I started this post the way I did. Am I doing things correctly? I seem to be.
"You're not going to want to get in here," she said.
"Why not?" I said. "You taking another hot shower?"
She nodded. "You're not going to like it."
"I don't care," I said.
"What?"
"I said, I don't fucking care."
And then I climbed into the scorching hot shower with her. I don't care about a little discomfirt. I needed to make her feel comforted and protected. She needed to know someone was really on her side, and I am. No matter what, I'm going to support her. Come heaven or hell, from this point out, we're a team.
Which makes me kinda.. nervous. If she were to wake up tomorrow and decide that she want to leave, I'd be brokenhearted, but I would let her leave, of course, and I would wish her the best and remain friends with her until one of us died. Do I.. fuck. I don't remember what I was going to type.
I am so tired. It just hit me. I closed my eyes and felt myself going out. I should end this here. I have someone I need to take care of. Someone that's trusted me with her love, with her body, with her everything. I've never been given so much. It's an awesome responsibility, but it's one I take on willingly.