Falling away... and it's quite incredible. really.

This wicked thunder woke me up. I jumped on my bed so high that when I fell back down I woke up.

Wait,

what woke me up?

“I don’t want to do this,” I insisted with barely any tone in my voice. My persuasion sometimes managed to work on him in dealings with normalcy, however he could never seem to contain himself at night. He preferred the moon to be out if he were to toy with me; it was rather large and red tonight, the night being cool, but rather warm upon physical contact.  And there he had placed me so I remained perched atop a decaying stone fixture near to the cemetery he favored the most. My feet hovered a foot from the ground, my hands clasping the edge of the structure out of fear I might fall.

He cupped the back of my head in his hand, and with the other hand his index finger pulled back my lower lip slowly to view my teeth. He gazed at them with a curious stare, the one that generally made me uneasy, the one that made me question his intentions.

           

“They’re so… rigid. Not smooth. So blunt. I wish you would reconsider,” he said with wonder only a child would speak with. He let go, my lip popped back up, and I complacently followed his statement.

           

“I told you no,” was the only answer I could procure from my mind. He favored my sharp intelligence, and my blunt teeth, and at the moment he was only getting half of his desire. He was planning already to ignore my refute anyway, so the dull response went completely unnoticed.

           

“Ssshh..” he whispered into my ear, and stroked my cheek with the back of the same finger. “Relax…” His touch was so soft, so gentle, but yet, so rough. He wanted me now, and although he preferred me in my current state, I could not help but wonder if he ever had the urge to sink his teeth into my neck as he did away with me. I felt slightly nauseous on that thought as now, he began to move his face near my nape condensing it with his breath, taking in my scent. His breaths were slight and hot on my skin, and in instinctual response I craned my neck so he could continue.

           

I could feel him brush his lips against my shoulder, onto my collar bone, and eventually he began to carefully maneuver his mouth over and up my neck, slowly, and my eyes lolled back into my head, my urges now becoming as prominent as his. My mind froze, my body barely moved, he took advantage of this, pressing his hands on my upper arms, pulling me off my seat so I stood with him, only this time his lips were on mine, pressed hard until my mouth finally edged open for him. We stood there in that position, professing that dialect until his kissing became too rough and void of passion for me to handle, my romantic engagements requiring the softer side of the individual as well. He began to understand as I failed to provide less and less action in our oral embrace.

          

He pulled away sluggishly, and put his forehead on mine, both of us breathing hard, letting our innate pressures build inside, until he found himself lowering his hands to my bottom garment, and pulled it down, kneeling and following it as he did. I watched with little emotion, but he took in the sight pleasurably as he went. When he stood yet again, I stepped out, and pulled down his pants and what was underneath.

           

He kissed me yet again then grabbed me toward him, my hands shaking found their way to his back, holding on as my left leg was forced to straddle him in order to grip for support. He thrust upward, and my head flew back as he continued to consummate me. I could barely scream or utter anything for that matter, my being was either in some form of horrendous pain or perhaps bloody sheer enjoyment of the act. He filled me enough that I felt myself stretch each time he breached me to accommodate him, and I found myself forcing him harder into me so I could enjoy the feeling further. I could barely gasp at the penetration; my brain paralyzing my vocal chords.

I nipped at his neck as he continued, he pressed me against the stone wall so he could proceed harder and more thorough than he already had been. My head shot back once again, my mouth open, my body somehow becoming weak with this, yet in complete yearning for him to continue.

-yawns- I seriously need something better to do with my time.

I woke up today, and I looked at my bed. There was an open safety pin lying on it, and now that I look back, it was there all night. I didn't feel it, nor do I have any marks, and apparently it didn't stick in.

"Oh it's silly." "It's just a test." "You're so stupid." "This is why you won't get a boyfriend." "Just get over it." "Why the fuck are you whining about this shit?" "You took an AP test, so at least you're better than the people who didn't." "Why don't you live life instead of worrying about this stuff?"


la la la de la

Anyway, I will mope about this if I wish -_-

I fail at life. Literally.

I've nothing to hide.

Today I went to the gynecologist for the first time. Honestly, nothing happened though. In fact, it was more modest than going to a regular doctor. I was in my own clothes the entire time, I didn't have to have an exam... and the reward was quite amazing. My virginity saved me, I suppose; the whole time beforehand I was so scared (shaking & chattering in fact), I thought I was going to have go spread eagle in front of a complete stranger, but in the end, well...

it's amazing what you can get by just asking. And so easy too. You just have to trust.

I always live by the standard, "you can't get without giving, and you can't give without getting."

I doubt it will ever be proved wrong.

I am feeling rather sore in my legs

I heard a story once. I think it was about a young boy and girl both being childhood friends, and they were both in love with each other, but they never realized it. Well, anyway, when they both turned eighteen, they finally ended up together.

In the end they died.

And had a bastard son.

On occasion I sometimes contemplate why I'm always sulking around my house with nothing to do. Well, I do have things to do like clean and do my summer reading, but I'm 17, I have no job, and obviously not enough friends to keep me occupied outside of my house. I feel envious of people sometimes; you know, the ones that sit around and brag to me about all of their close friends and sexual interactions and their boyfriends or girlfriends and all of the pretty things they have. But, no, I'm not materialistic, so I fair myself away from such fancy things that cost a lot of money. I don't need them. I have my head, which spawns stories every now and then, but why my moods are ever so sporadic I haven't the slightest clue.

I'm just envious they can go to the parties or the places and are nice looking enough to get the boy or the girl or something in between, and I keep telling myself, "college, college", but in the end, I don't think it's going to work out that way. There's something disgusting about my personality that I've yet to realize; I believe it lies among my unkept hair, sarcasm, and deep thinking. Either I scare someone away with the mop on my head, my rude comments, or the fact that I think about things further than their understanding. Or at least, because I am a teenager, I'm supposed to think of 'normal' teenage things. And musing about life and it's meaning and all of this philosophical crap I've spewed out over these past four years means nothing. Because it's weird.