i am face down on the bed fully clothed but with bare feet.
i know she has entered the room. i can hear her pulling off her clothes.
she steps lightly across the floor and brushes the soles of my feet.
i feel her heaviness settle on me as she spreads herself on my back - fully covering me from head to toe with her body.
her left arm hooks under my shoulder to hold me. her right arm moves under me and onto my belly; her hand tugging at my shirt and undoing my belt and jeans.
her fingers find my wet cunt and i gasp, lifting her body on my back. she is thrusting her hips against my ass and i am writhing beneath her. her breath is heavy in my hair and on my neck.
i want her to bite me but refuse to break the spell with words. instead, i turn my head offering my neck to her and she obliges me. feeling her teeth on me, i jerk and shudder and rest again in her hand.
we stay there, still, and i laugh as she keeps biting my neck. i want my turn with her.
so, so many photos of naked women out there and so, so many of them are not quite right. too many can’t be stared at without getting that bad feeling.
this girl wasn’t comfortable.
this girl didn’t care or was fucked up or got fucked up so she wouldn’t care.
this girl thinks this is what someone wants to see.
this girl thinks this is the only thing anyone sees in her.
this girl just wants someone to see her.
there is something important in finding the ones that are powerful, are supportive, are loving, are in control. and sharing them. because it’s not just the photos that someone has staged or taken of someone else. what really kills me are the self-portraits. the girl in front of her computer or mirror who isn’t quite sure and wants someone to say she’s okay.
i’m sure i’ve looked at, gotten off on, the wrong ones; the ones that made someone, somewhere feel like shit. but i try to find the other ones. i want them to be the vast majority of what’s out there. someday.