I have woken.
It is you who have awoken me.
I stayed in the dark
You brought me into the blinding light
So that you could envelop me in the sweeter night
At your centre

 

Come forth.

 

O, that is incredibly powerful, poignant becuase I remember moments like that - it is as if you have reached inside my mind. I used to wear panties with the smell of us entwined and pungent, lingering, all day - unable to let go of that moment.

 

Perfectly written. How those soaked panties are just a small snippet of remembering that or those moments.

 

Beautifully written, O. Very evocative.

I remember when I felt this way, fifteen years ago. It almost killed me, that immersion.
Such a price to pay for the transient glory of being his whore and thinking it enduring love...

Your writing is powerful, O... Even if it take me down different pathways of thought and awareness, I see and learn - and remember, not without some tinge of longing.

 

Brilliant!

 

Beautifully sad.

Because I'm left wondering when I can't feel him inside me anymore, when I no longer occupy his thoughts will "whore" still sound like "love" or will I just feel used and dirty?

 

Button, that's very perceptive. It's a good question.

It's not obvious here I know, but I'm writing about someone new. One of the things that's new is that language...not the word 'whore' but all the rest of it. I believe I would have slapped anyone else who called me their 'dirty fucking whore'. I've never let anyone else call me that, nor did I find even the idea of it erotic...but in this case, this person, I do. I do.

It deserves a post of its own really, language and its uses and limits, why this is different...all I can say is that I'm as certain in this case as I am of anything in the world that I won't feel that kind of regret....but I know I would have with someone else. Maybe that's why I never tolerated it from anyone else, why it's different with him, and why I love it.

-----
Forgive me button, I didn't read you carefully enough...I see that what I'm thinking assumes that I'll continue to occupy his thoughts...and I guess we can't know that,can we?--I don't think I'll be forgotten today or tomorrow. That may be enough.

 

I read your post as if you were me because I identify so easily with where you're coming from. I always assume He is thinking of me. I know that must sound terribly narcissistic. I am very aware of my vulnerability in my situation and very aware of the pain I'm going to endure when I'm done.

I understand the place that makes you want to be his whore. I know it only too well. Enjoy it. Its rare to find.

 

Button, I read you as if I were reading me! We have synchronicity going on here...I don;t think you sounded narcissistic at all, I feel exactly the same way. I think the difference may be that I'm refusing to look ahead to the end, especially because it's so new. I don't care though, it's worth it.

 

And if the next morning he read what you had written with your juices would that make you complete?

 

Vronsky,

But what makes you think I'm not, just as I am?

There's something a bit suspicious about the notion that completion is something we have to rely on others for...

 

O, your words are so vivid that the emotion behind them is laid bare.

It is amazing how words like "whore" and "slut" become something other than there original definitions; how they transcend those basic notions to become something more, something beautiful, something endearing when they are on the lips of someone we care for.

 

O, you make a good point to which I have no answer.

Of course I have no reason to assume that you are incomplete - unless me being narcissitic enough to assume that others will be as incomplete as me is any kind of a reason.

 

Whore is a word I would never use, never consider, that would make me sick to say, were it not a term that was understood between myself and my other. An unspoken understanding. The word only gains its immense power in the meeting of similar minds and the knowledge of what it means. Used without consent, it is indeed brutal and ugly, degrading and unfeeling.

Dearest O - I believe you are the most exquisite of whores, whose lustful presence would grace any Tudor feast.

 

I smiled when I read this because you are so right. Whore, cunt, cumrag, and a whole slew of words he spews at me... they all come out sounding like love to my ears.

 

The physical sensation of fluids and scent complete the process for me, in same cases even more so than penetration.

 

I am new to reading this sort of blog, newly awakening to sexuality I've always known was there but that I have repressed to please others. It is like you took these words out of my soul. I shivered, it made me wet and then it made me cry.

Thank you.

 

Anon,

It makes me cry too.

thank you for commenting; when someone understands like you do it makes me feel less alone.