I would like nothing more than to tell you I've spent the last couple of weeks bend over some bed somewhere with my ass in the air being treated as I need to be treated. That, unfortunately, would be a lie. It's more that I've been in bed, fucking myself until I'm red and raw, thinking of more and more extreme things while I soak the sheets through. You guys are such lovely inspiration for fantasy, but anything can and will trigger me these days. I feel like a 13 year old boy, as much as a voluptuous twenty-something girl (side note: it's come to my attention that calling myself a girl isn't "feminist." If feminism is having to call myself a woman, fuck being a feminist. I'm a girl, damnit, and I don't have to grow up if I don't want to!) can.

So, I am alive. Certain parts of me more than others, it seems. My will and drive to write seems to be related to my sexual escapades lately, which is why nothing of any merit seems to get written. I'm trying, but all I can think up are the myriads of fuck thoughts in my head that wouldn't even begin to make sense in words. Men in bathrooms, women at bars, orgies, hands, pain, rape... it's pretty jumbled and incomprehensible unless I'm masturbating. And, although I'm good, I haven't quite mastered the one-handed typing approach. I learned a long time ago that I would be slave to my appetites and, as I haven't really been "getting any" as of late, they seem to be raging all the more strongly.

Won't someone put me out of my misery? Wish Bear would let me get that stunt cock I've been joking about. *laugh*

Oh, also, I've run pretty dry of ideas for photosets and am now turning to you. Shout out any ideas or anything specific you'd like to see and I'll be happy to try and make that happen.

This entry was posted by Mellie, on Friday, June 02, 2006.