July 13, 1999 |
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GreenMachine: I thought you would like that ass shot. It took a lot of begging to get Damon to send it to me. I like the shot, but he wanted the original, so I had him send it. As for Wednesday, I think I lept to early when I asked about going shopping that day. I forget that you may end up working late all this week because of the sun. So perhaps Saturday afternoon would be a better time to go shopping afterall. I like it that you want to lend me your eye. I want to appeal to you in any way I can. I want to wear clothes that make you want to stick your hands up it. I want to drape myself with sex, and lure you into my aura. Once I got you lured, well. Shit. I got ya. Last night I had more nightmares. I went to bed at midnight, and for the next hour I kept dreaming I would wake up. I would dream I was in my tent, it was so real. Maybe sometimes I would really wake up. But others I would wake up to a voice or a shadow over my tent dome. What? Who's that? I would say. Maybe I really said it in my sleep. Who's there? One time I thought it was you. Only you were all in scillouette at my tent's door. AL? I would say. And there were other shadows scurrying at your feet. FUCK! What the fuck was that? And I flaled my arms. Trying to shoo away the evils. And I end up backhanding a small black kid. At some point these neighborhood kids found my front door unlocked and they wanted to see who lived there. So about 3 of them had crept through my front door and were standing at my tent staring at me. I felt bad that I backhanded them though. I also drempt briefly that the guy ahead of me on a spinning carnival ride was moaning. "Shit! I am gonna be sick. Oh shit. I think I am gonna be SICK." Yet another nightmare I had last night. I was visiting my friend Dooley's. He had just been to the emergency room because of a car accident. Not his fault. I heard he had been burned, so I wanted to visit him. Show him that I care. When I arrived at his door, I was expecting his face to be blackened and encrusted. But there was only this little 4 inch scrape on his neck. "Oh Christ, Dooley." I say, clutching my chest with relief. "God. When I heard you were in an accident, I imagined you were going to look like fried chicken. But you look just fine." "Yeah." Says Dooley. "It's really nothing. I just got some of my hair burned off on top." And he casually turns the top of his head towards me, and the horrors there were astounding. I had a hard time looking at the crisped, black scabs that had jelled together. His hair was going to be permenently missing in that spot. And if the vision wasn't enough, Dooley shows me the hole in the back of his head. The skull was completely knocked out, and I could see the tendons exposed. A puss discharge was draining out the hole, and he had to reach into the hole to pull some gause out. Oh yeah. That was a nightmare for sure. So after waking for the 5th time in a panick, I decided enough was enough. I know how to stop all these fucking nightmares... so I masturbated. Oh yeah. Had that image of your swollen cock protruding out your pants hole like the succulant wonder it is. And somehow all those nightmares went away. Sex had officially taken over. And after I lurched my hiney high in the twilight last night, thrusting the air with my cum, I drifted off to a peaceful sleep. Got some feedback about my company picnic. I found a guy, Benson who was PISSED he never got to meet you. He's the one who has been listening to all my sexcapades with you. But he only knew you as AL, and he got confused because I had been introducing you as Jamison to everyone. He has been trying to set me up with his friend Turk for a while, and wanted to see the infamous AL. See how you "messured up" to Turk. He just wanted to meet the one who has been successfully balling me all this time while Turk gets none. Benson asks. Why can't Turk get some of you, Rebecca? What's AL got that Turk doesn't? And I said, with my head in my hands: damn Benson. I am just not physically attracted to Turk. I just can't see myself opening my legs for Turk. Do you see the incredible compliment that is for you AL? This guy Turk can't get my legs open, no matter what he does. And for you, parting my thighs is a snatch. I am horny for you now. Phasing out.... sex is taking over again..... |
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