A View from the Floor

An excerpt from a remarkable ramble that captures that pesky craving for intensity:

Still craving some mad, crazy, intense and horrifying pain and use and yet I’m craving intense sweetness and love at the same time.

I think things have just been very “middle of the road” lately. A bit of this, a bit of that but not enough of any specific to sate.

The last few times we’ve fucked it’s been very….

Hmmm….

I feel like a pocket toy.

Just a few holes he can wrap around his dick and be done with it.

Good, in some ways, since part of me feeds upon that sort of use but it would be better if he were more verbal about it, if he poked at the pain of it more.

Does that make sense?

I guess some people would simply thrive on it but I”m just kind of like… eh… yay.

The reality of it is I’m jonesing for some very verbal, slap me around, drag me around, put me in my place shit and when what I get is simple, rather unemotional use it doesn’t do much for me.

Which would be okay if he was like, “yeah, fuck you, it’s not supposed to do anything for you” but it’s not been like that.

A View from the Floor