She has spent time on her hair although despite this there is a light snow of dandruff on her flimsy shirt. Immaculate makeup, not heavy, just enough to emphasize the doll-like fullness of her lips, her dark intelligent eyes, the roundness of her face which is reminiscent of a fruit at the very moment of ripeness. She has a clear sense of style, confident and without any need to overindulge in the distractions of lace or detail of cloth.
She is breathtaking, and as she stands, everyone watches her, but I know they are wondering how she got to be so big. I am wondering about the powdery smell of her massive thighs, and if all the world shudders when she comes.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
the race
She worries that they are too alike.
"We could never be together because of the similarities" and as soon as she has said it she knows that it was a mistake.
This is the difference between them. She sees their love of Art and literature, he notices her anxiousness and vaguely contained fury. To her they are too close. To him they are too far apart.
She sees a film at the cinema and knows that he would like it too. She recommend it. He downloads it and shrugs telling her that it is okay.
They make love and she is struck by her inability to feel intimate, even when she is completely naked before him. He tells her that this time was the best ever.
They have strayed past the end of the thing. Somewhere, without a finishing line to snap with her out-pressed chest they have run the course to its completion. No one to pat them on the back or bring them post race refreshments and so together they keep running, stopping now and then to look back at the ever-lengthening distance behind them, wondering if it is up to them to shake hands and, exhausted, walk off the track.
Damp-eyed she hugs him goodbye knowing that it is for the last time. Cheerily he kisses her on the cheek and tells her that he'll see her next week. When he is gone she stands on the track and bends at the waist and breathes till the pain lessens. She could just walk away. Should. Will.
She spends a day in mourning, crying for a thing that is now lost.
He calls. He sets a time and a place and at some point in the conversation he makes her laugh. She picks herself up off the grass and performs a few half-hearted stretches. Slowly at first, but with increasing vigor, she begins to run again.
"We could never be together because of the similarities" and as soon as she has said it she knows that it was a mistake.
This is the difference between them. She sees their love of Art and literature, he notices her anxiousness and vaguely contained fury. To her they are too close. To him they are too far apart.
She sees a film at the cinema and knows that he would like it too. She recommend it. He downloads it and shrugs telling her that it is okay.
They make love and she is struck by her inability to feel intimate, even when she is completely naked before him. He tells her that this time was the best ever.
They have strayed past the end of the thing. Somewhere, without a finishing line to snap with her out-pressed chest they have run the course to its completion. No one to pat them on the back or bring them post race refreshments and so together they keep running, stopping now and then to look back at the ever-lengthening distance behind them, wondering if it is up to them to shake hands and, exhausted, walk off the track.
Damp-eyed she hugs him goodbye knowing that it is for the last time. Cheerily he kisses her on the cheek and tells her that he'll see her next week. When he is gone she stands on the track and bends at the waist and breathes till the pain lessens. She could just walk away. Should. Will.
She spends a day in mourning, crying for a thing that is now lost.
He calls. He sets a time and a place and at some point in the conversation he makes her laugh. She picks herself up off the grass and performs a few half-hearted stretches. Slowly at first, but with increasing vigor, she begins to run again.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Internet boys
She sat beside me in class. It is hard not to look at her breasts because they are large but also because she wears clothes that show them off in a rather suggestive way. She is gorgeous, really, so smart and really quite gregarious. She reminds me of a younger version of myself. We talk about sex. She likes sex quite a lot. It is easy to pick a fellow addict and she is one it is clear.
"I had a little cry today," she says. "A boy I met on the internet saw a picture of me and told me I was too fat."
My heart clenches. I remember.
"The internet is a cruel place." I say.
"I don't know how else to meet men."
There is only a bunch of years between me and her. I feel my skin becoming thinner. Her flesh is mine. I identify too closely. If I think about it too hard I become her. The horror of each new interaction. The opening up to the same taunts and terrors that made the school yard into a war zone.
"Fuck him." I say.
She says "Sure. That's what I thought, but I still had to have a little cry."
"I had a little cry today," she says. "A boy I met on the internet saw a picture of me and told me I was too fat."
My heart clenches. I remember.
"The internet is a cruel place." I say.
"I don't know how else to meet men."
There is only a bunch of years between me and her. I feel my skin becoming thinner. Her flesh is mine. I identify too closely. If I think about it too hard I become her. The horror of each new interaction. The opening up to the same taunts and terrors that made the school yard into a war zone.
"Fuck him." I say.
She says "Sure. That's what I thought, but I still had to have a little cry."
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Ottoman Motel Trailer
So my dear friend Christopher Currie has a great novel coming out in May and here is my book trailer for it made with the help of my partner Anthony Mullins and my friend Chris Somerville.
Read the first chapter of the novel HERE and if you make your own book trailer for The Ottoman Motel and email a link to books@avidreader.com.au you could win a prize.
Read the first chapter of the novel HERE and if you make your own book trailer for The Ottoman Motel and email a link to books@avidreader.com.au you could win a prize.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Flirty Woman Online
Flirty Woman Online
This is the ad at the sidebar of this post, suddenly the ads for new puppies and Veterinarians have been replaced by something more appropriate. I suppose this blog is flirtation - something I have not mastered in real life. On the page however I am assured I can bring someone to orgasm with just a few taps of the keys. I should be involved in internet sex, I would describe my position, bent over the kitchen bench. I would lift my skirt for you and let you pull down my tights, or perhaps I should pull them down for you in case you are not sure what you are supposed to do with that image. This woman here, bent over and naked from the waste down, wet of course with desire because that is what you are expecting, and yet you pause perhaps because you have been here before. You have seen me here with the kelpie, excitable, frenetic. You have seen me with my fetish for an octopus and now, faced with my naked, glistening cunt you are unsure if this is flirty woman online or veterinarian online now.
I assure you this is more about sex than animals. I will lure you past your reservations with my dulcet tones or at least an artful turn of the key. So let me bed over, spread my legs wider, feel you slip inside and I assure you I will not come till you are ready, your internet dancer, your three minute non-contact lay.
Join me again and again and check the ads on the right hand side, I am a fine dance partner, flirty online woman, so bring it on.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Liking animals
A pause now to tell you that I like animals. I do understand that I have been watching nothing but people masturbating animals for the collection of sperm for about a week. This has skewed my perception somewhat, but, before the idea of sex with animals there was a pure love of them
I grew up with a Labrador who would sleep on my bed. Her name was Lady and I had a game I used to play where I would pretend she was my mother. I loved her cleanly. She would snuggle in next to me when I was sad. I would whisper all my problems and then pretend that she was telling me that it would be okay. She never failed to know when I was sad and come to sit with me. You are all the family I need I would tell her. This dog was my first best friend, my parent and my greatest love.
And so I understand you may find my youtube habits quite disturbing. I do however need to know just how a dog's penis is made. I need to try to feel desire when I am writing it. Some people feel desire for their puppy. I do not.
I was more into the idea of the octopus I told them in the car and we all laughed but it was true. The pure alien connection. The lack of need, desire or judgment - is this, then what I love the most?
I grew up with a Labrador who would sleep on my bed. Her name was Lady and I had a game I used to play where I would pretend she was my mother. I loved her cleanly. She would snuggle in next to me when I was sad. I would whisper all my problems and then pretend that she was telling me that it would be okay. She never failed to know when I was sad and come to sit with me. You are all the family I need I would tell her. This dog was my first best friend, my parent and my greatest love.
And so I understand you may find my youtube habits quite disturbing. I do however need to know just how a dog's penis is made. I need to try to feel desire when I am writing it. Some people feel desire for their puppy. I do not.
I was more into the idea of the octopus I told them in the car and we all laughed but it was true. The pure alien connection. The lack of need, desire or judgment - is this, then what I love the most?
Friday, March 11, 2011
Kelpies
I saw two kelpies at Boys Cafe. A young girl stopped to pet one and it barked, bared its teeth, she tried once more and was rejected with a growl. A pretty girl, maybe 20, 21. The owners laughed and shrugged. I watched the pretty grey and black creatures, slim hipped, skittish. One of them couldn't settle at all, wrapped his lead around a chair leg, nipped the other on the flank.
I have spent two weeks sexualising dogs. A kelpie starred in one particular scene. I stared at the dogs and tried to feel the potential for play, the excited little chase, the energetic copulation, the scratch of a rough tongue. I suppose I could enjoy the act for pure sensation if I tried and yet I felt no sexual pull at all.
The video of octopuses mating however never fails to stir me. I suppose, despite my fondness for them, I'm just not a dog person at all.
I have spent two weeks sexualising dogs. A kelpie starred in one particular scene. I stared at the dogs and tried to feel the potential for play, the excited little chase, the energetic copulation, the scratch of a rough tongue. I suppose I could enjoy the act for pure sensation if I tried and yet I felt no sexual pull at all.
The video of octopuses mating however never fails to stir me. I suppose, despite my fondness for them, I'm just not a dog person at all.
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