Stripper Baggage.

Razorblades.

“I’m naked, I’m numb, I’m stupid, I’m staying.”

I sit here alone for the first time in a long time.  I am watching the thunderstorm come rolling in from up top on the hillside.  The sky is cutting, seems to be getting deeper, darker, getting ready to rage.  I am just trying to find a bit of still within the chaos that surrounds me.  I mean this literally and figurativly.  The house at the moment is a disaster, Sparrow and I have started a painting project, that always leads to more then you expected.  I have a tendency to make things very difficult, not like that is a surprise, we painted the walls, I hate them so we now are painting them a different shade.  It is also the  ceiling that is now falling down and that has to be  redone now.  It’s a fucking mess, I don’t do well with mess.  I can’t seem to control it or make it stop or make it get done any faster.  I just have to fucking live with it.  To top it off we just are not that good at painting, me being the worse of us two, also not surprising  . . . I never had to paint a wall.  This is yet another lesson  . . .  one must learn to do things on their own, there may come a time within your life that you can’t always pay someone else to do it.  Moving along . . . I am staring at the luggage at the moment.  I usually try to attempt this when Sparrow is not at home.  He is not a fan,  it’s what is inside that he hates.  It is the godforsaken fucking stripper luggage.  Inside at the moment it is filled with all shoes and I think, no I know, my tired ass school girl outfit with white knee socks.  I don’t think that I ever emptied it from when I stopped. In the closet here is a huge bag of baggies filled with bikini tops, bottoms, thigh highs, fingerless gloves . ..  the makings for a very high caliber woman don’t you think? Sarcasm . . . yeah, yeah.  I like want to look in there, but I don’t and I have to, but I already know what it entails.  It is a lot.  I have anxiety regarding what it will do to Sparrow and how he will cope, how I will cope.  I know nothing is worth the money and yet it is all life about the money.  Sparrow could live in a cardboard box with me . . . me not so much.  I get scared, what if I am too fucking old? I then look in the mirror and see that is not an issue.  I took a good look at myself the other day.  Beside the fact that I have zero appetite and probably lost five pounds weighing in around a hundred pounds, I think it is stress.  I was given something, even when my looks fade, I had them . . . I will be thankful for that.  People  say dumb shit like, “anything is tolerable as long as you’re pretty  . . . you never know what it is like to be unattractive and invisible”.  Really? My struggle is okay, not bad because I am pretty. . .that is some dumb ass shit.  I like to say to people who make those comments that “sorry for you, stupid really is forever”.  At the end of the day I guess it did not hurt me that I wasn’t terribly unfortunate in the looks department.  It just helped me in my career that I am so trying to forget and won’t for fucks sake. I know, I know all my own doing in it’s entirety.  It is still there in the corner of the room I can’t go over to it.  I look at that stripper luggage and my knees begin to hurt all over again.  You know on the job injuries that at 32 never do go away.  It feels like the aches that you get on rainy days, oh my  knees so feel it.   Sparrow likes to point out how damaging me and working will be to my yoga practice.  It really is. I tell him I will just come home and stretch out real good. The wind has picked up a lot and it has begun to rain.  I randomly wonder if I would have been good at porn.  Maybe.

Sparrow likes pulling my panties down, he likes it even more when I am resistant. Slamming my knees together seeming unwilling to let him taste it.  He has to beg . . . I tell him no.  With more force he then will tear off my little white boy shorts, I place my foot on his chest and shove him away.  I am laying on my back on the bed, my hair  completely covering me, he spreads me open and slowly begins to lick and suck me off.  My clit swells inside of his mouth, he beings to finger fuck me, I lift my hips off the bed and squirm.  Pressing my pussy harder and harder into his face, my arms are stretched across the bed grabbing the other side of the comforter, I moan and bit my bottom lip.  Sparrow lifts his head up and continues to finger fuck me.  The closer I get the harder he is pounding me, “baby I want to fuck you, you gonna cum, you gonna cum on me”.  I am dripping . . . I shudder . . . I cum. We fuck, we fuck really good, if that is all we got at the moment then I like that.

-ApplejAxe

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~ by applejaxe on July 27, 2012.

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