blazintommyd's blog: "LOVE and LUST"

Sex is Love. There is no sex without Love. So are there really two kinds of orgasms? Lust, Physical beauty, Imagination of sensual pleasure.

Was it learned, imposed that I require an object to devote the product of my orgasm to? Empirically, intuitively, it becomes a sacred sacrament. The reward, it's intensity. The depth of pleasure is Loves efficacy. But not for the point of climax, alone, for that purpose I create a memory profound; and rather than one to be forgotten, one to be reveled in, revisited wanting it deeper with greater intensity and clarity. An incorporeal talisman by rite of devotion. To Love, to Lust and to the memory and thought of this object, now pleasantly plumping my cock.

She's turning me onto Life

Thinking of her while facing her direction. She comes to me, into my arms, looking into her face her eyes, her arms around my shoulders, her hands on the back of my neck, she controls me, but relents to me, exuding her Love into my heart, caressing her ass feeling our nakedness feeling our Love

Picturing us fucking vividly, yet not feeling it.

She lusted for me somehow while my desire was more. And by this conflict of omission the foregoing is all that remains. It seems easy for her to ignore me. Perhaps,this is her devotion, that I may freely invoke her, to have this wonderful sensation, but now pleasing only to my heart, and without the pleasure of cumming to and for her, or without her want and acceptance it remains an unrequited Love whether I forced myself to cum or not

Now there are two women. 

The other I found by chance and she is all I could ever want physically. Especially her legs and feet, but all of the rest of her too. I adore her. Cumming to her beauty is effortless and wonderful. I've done so twice. The more I adore her and express this, the greater the reward to my cock. I think of her and every pleasure and sensation capable is sharpened, deepened and more intense. Taking me deeper into pleasure deeper into my want to make my devotion to her and for her acceptance.

To me my Goddess and for other men to adore at her pleasure

Society has wronged us by turning Love into taboo. Love is pleasure. I need to Love her too. But the idea evolved long ago that there can ony be one Love; as if Love became a business by contract; anything that defies it must surely be sin must surely be Lust

And those of us that Lust for this pleasure of Love, either Love without knowing but always suspecting like not quite cumming or not quite going all the way; or worse to adopt the allusion that there is sex without Love; emulating such ideal, deadened of pleasurable sensations, like riding on a train without windows, frantically rubbing for the destination, or fucking like beasts, imparting pain to feel anything, instead of nothing at all.

So i dare to defy, so that Love and Lust shall burn in my heart forever, to forever nourish my cock; and at my pleasure that I may polish this sacred talisman, to savor it's precious reward, it's pleasure, the true power and force of Life - will is the only ideal above Her.