I can’t seem to get my head straight lately.  Putting to thoughts together has proven to be as futile as fucking a rope.  All I have are random thoughts that come in and out of focus.

I am having this fantasy.  It’s not a memory.  And I’m not always asleep when it hits me.  Some sort of fantasy of being up against a wall, one leg wrapped around a shirtless man.  His back is tan, muscular.  His jeans are hanging on his hips.  He’s not fucking me, yet.  But I can tell that he has every intention of it.  He is holding one arm up above my head, and the other arm I am using to pull him closer.  I have no balance.  I can’t pull him close and balance at the same time.  I don’t want to fall, but I don’t want to let go.  He is crushing me with his kisses, and waiting.  Taking his own sweet time before he devours me.  I am shaking.  I don’t think I know who he is.  But I know that I want him.  Badly.

This fantasy keeps coming back to me.  It’s twisting my reality and making me wonder who this man is.  Every man I see, I envision shirtless.  Who is my fantasy?  Why can’t I see his face?  What does this mean?  It wakes me in the middle of the night, heart racing, sweating.  I find myseld reaching for my dildo and fucking myself fast and hard just to get the fantasy out of my head, but it’s not the same.  As soon as the cock enters me, the fantasy disappears.

Who are you?  Do I know you??  Why won’t you show yourself to me??