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the lover…

Honestly, it started out just exploring the fantasies that burgeoning pubescent adolescence seems to create from the bulk of unrevealed imagination, and once I reached the age where sexual yearnings meant something, I sprung into action. Masturbation was always a key component to my exercises through the mundane, but at times, even that would be wearisome because of too frequent a regimen. I will admit that I’m not the world’s greatest lover, or even the most romantic person in putting wheels to action, but I don’t even shoot for those goals. I stay true to my heart, and feel my way into a situation. At first, love was never an issue, and my hatred for the whole of human existence was fairly intact from the moment that disparaging insults flew my way. The sexual experience was single-mindedly sought out, but never achieved because of said despise for the whole. My first experiential situation with the opposite sex was truly an awkward conjunction of events. I didn’t know what I’d wanted to say, but knew what I needed to feel. Not merely purely for gratification, but the revelation that was never that simple. Throughout the awkward trials and tribulations of my youthful teenage years, there had been a variety of opportunities, but I believe that I came off too strong to be affirmed a sexual identity. My first actual penetration was at the age of eighteen, and I had begun the search to find and understand the person who I am still becoming today. I’m not saying with this post that I know all there is to know by now, in fact love is the quarry I am currently seeking to further understand, and how to be with another person beyond the sexual desire. There are things that no singularity of thought can ever contain within one being that cannot be complimented by another. I digress, however, and will go back to what I was talking about previously. Everyday, the erogenous zone is the mind, and that linking with another’s soul. I find true release with others who can touch that same intersection with the whole. My libido is not the cewnter of my sexual being, merely where the energy lies inside, dormant and cioled like the sleeping snake. When active, this drive can be strong enough to penetrate deeper than the flesh, but hides and waits for the moments to fall into place. Discretion is the name of the game, or the love for everyone’s flesh would be the pursuit. Ultimately, we are more than the genital which can seem to guide us, and the vessels are true extentions of spiritual form taken shape. I’ve been told I’m hung like a horse, but don’t believe flattering conjecture.
Thanks, khet….