Saturday, September 18, 2010

failed relationship of in-equals

    I don't know how I ended up here. How I found myself in this position at this point in my life. Im broken.

I had always thought myself emotionally invulnerable, that nothing and no one could break me. When I first met him I was so in control. I knew that I wanted, where I was going, what I was going to be.

 Somehow (and I don't really blame him for this) he became the focus of my universe. I found out what he wanted and took what was left over for myself. I figured out what was best for his benefit and did it silently.

He thinks I was selfish for wanting, but he doesn't see the generosity and the kindness behind my actions because I never did anything ostentatiously.
I didn't demand he see, I didn't expect reward or recognition.

 When I left I gave all I had- taking only what he would not have wanted. Still he thinks that I am being selfish. Thousands of dollars worth of movies, books, games, etc. left for him, and he feels like I'm asking too much to have him pay off the credit card debt.
I'm leaving the house, which I picked out. I'm leaving the business to him that I helped to build. I'm leaving part of my soul and my dreams of peace and love.
He is taking away my deepest passions, and the feeling of acceptance, the feeling that I could do anything, ask anything without judgement and so was completely free to suggest any course, any action without being judged.

 That is probably what I will miss most, that and the knowledge that I was once beautiful to him. Once desired and that I was the source of passion and lust. That was his greatest gift to me really.

That gone I don't know how to move forward. I feel like Ive lost my ballast and I'm a ship yawing to port and starboard on a choppy uneven sea of emotion. I'm lost without my anchor, and though he was so rough and rusted, covered with layers of the decay of depression and the encrustations of heavy ennui; I miss the feeling of safety that being anchored provided.

He thinks- I'm sure- that it was the financial stability I will miss, and yes being completely broke is frustrating... But it is being alone, being without a outlet for my love and emotion and passion- that is whats hard.

  In time I am sure I could find another, but to tell the truth I'm not sure that I want to put myself in the position of depending on someone for my emotional wellbeing again.

But the question lingers in my heart:
  If I could have carried his burden, If I could have lifted his depression and withstood his lashing out. If I could have kept the perfect house, been ready to perform at a moments notice, if I could have been all things too him would he have been happy?

If only I was stronger, and had a impenetrable emotional shield that could take a constant barrage of rage and not be dented. If only I had armor that could soak up scorn and ridicule and transmute it into energy for going on with the rigors of living in a home where you clearly are not good enough.

But I am not the Iron Man of emotion.

Maybe I should have stayed, though it might have ended up being a War of the Roses, most likely it would have just been another argument that would have blown over after a few months of me being glared at, ignored, having the living room stomped through as he went to slam his bedroom door. A million ways to display his rage, and show his derision.

If it wasn't for the child I probably would have endured.
Thank you Ariel.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Softcore kelly


  Professor Lurig kept regular office hours, so Kelly stopped by his office once she got her grades for the semester. She knocked on the hardwood door, and hearing his deep bellow “come” she opened the door and went inside.

  The office was paneled wood in a deep mahogany, a set of deep green wingbacks faced away from the door flanking the front of a gigantic wood desk, and behind that was a mountain of a man, her English professor.

 “Professor Lurig,” Kelly began in her rehearsed speech as she walked confidently into the room and took a seat primly on the end of one of the leather wingbacks. “I would like to talk to you about last semesters grade that I received in your Literature class?”

  The bearded professor scrubbed at his jaw line, never looking up from the pile of papers in front of him. He removed his glasses with one huge primitive knuckled paw and kneaded his forehead with the other. “What, what about your grades” he paused a second looking at her and then as if finally remembering her “Ms. Nesler?”

 Kelly was only mildly annoyed that he didn’t seem to recognize her. She put her book back into her bag, which she dropped beside her feet casually, and then tucked back her hair and dove back into her rehearsed monologue while the professor replaced his glasses and began to pour himself some more coffee from a steaming thermos.

  “I got a B, and while many students here on campus would graciously accept a B as being a acceptable grade, I strive for perfection and think that my work shows that level of commitment. I believe I have earned a A.” She paused to breath and he interrupted “You, do- do you?”

  It had broken her train of thought, she stammered… “Well yes I do.” He then proceeded to stand, crack his back noisily and made his lumbering way around his desk and he closed the curtain that separated the back part of his office and closed the door to the hallway solidly. There was a distinct click. Kelly suddenly felt slightly nervous, but he came around the side of the chair then, startling her slightly which she tried not to let show.

 “Why do you feel you earn that distinction Ms. Nesler? I almost never give A’s in my advanced literature class, as I am sure you have heard. I give A’s only in the case of truly outstanding work. When the rare gifted writer chooses to grace my class… then Ms. Nesler I give a A. You Ms Nestler do not seem to have this gift. You Ms Nesler- deserve a B.” He concluded, his back now to the desk, he leaned back on his fingertips which were splayed on the desk edge.

Kelly gulped and leaned forward slightly. She needed this grade and wasn’t going to take no for a answer. “Professor, I really strive to keep a perfect GPA, I have managed thus far in my university career..”

  “I don’t care what grades other teachers have given you in the past Ms. Nesler.” He almost growled at her with his deep baritone voice. “Your grades in my class reflect the level of competence you have shown me. Not what you’ve given to your other teachers.”

Kelly decided to change tactic. He wanted to close his door, and seemed to like making her nervous? Well fine she would see how he liked it. She ran her hand up her neck into her hair line, ran it back down, pulling slightly at the collar of her shirt. It was subtle, not obvious, she looked up at him, her eyes slightly askew through her hair she kept her expression some what innocent, and asked. “Surely there is some make up assignment I could do to earn extra consideration?”

“What kind of assignment exactly Ms. Nesler?” He asked. Simple question, but it hung in the air like it was dangerous. She didn’t know what to say to proceed, so she reached into her bag again and got her pen out. The whole time she made sure that her body was slanted provocatively to afford the professor a descent view of her assets, her legs and her cleavage. She came up with the pen in her mouth and smiled at him while she continued to dig through her bag for her notepad which she flipped to the correct day.

  “Maybe there is a paper I could write?” She began, and he shook his head with a smirk.
“The days for essays are long past Ms. Nesler.”
She was taken aback, “A make up test?”
He smiled, “I don’t think so.”
She lowered the pen from her lips. “what then? Do you have any errands to run?”

He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Errands?” he mumbled.

“Yes!” she latched onto the hesitation as a possible maybe. “Maybe you need me to help you with filing papers, or library research or something!” She smiled relieved at the idea.

“No, Ms. Nesler. I Have a research assistant for that sort of thing. Of course you’ve seen Brian at your classes. The one taking notes and passing things out for me? He runs my errands Ms. Nesler. I’m sorry, but this time I cant help you, your going to have to help yourself.”

“Help myself?” She asked, frustrated. “I thought I was helping myself.. I mean I’m trying, tell me what I haven’t suggested? What exactly is it that you want from me?”

The Professor grumbled, and looked at her with a mixture of irritation at her stupidity, and humor at the cat and mouse game he was playing. He then looked down at Kelly’s sensible shoes, her ankle socks, her knees tightly clenched, her mid thigh pleated skirt, her button up white shirt, and into her pretty green eyes.

“A smart girl like you should be able to think of something.”

With a electric shock she suddenly figured out what he meant. She blushed pink while she contemplated it. Her mind going through several stages of response. Flattered. Outraged. Intimidated. Then she really considered it.

A part of her always wondered.
A part of her thought that there had to be more than the boys she had dated so far.
She wanted adventure, and she wanted someone to take her and make her into a sexual being, to teach her to loose what inhibitions she held, she wanted to be both the user, and the used. To feel like she was a dirty little slut for one time in her life. She wanted to show him who was really in control too, to make him crazy with longing for her, to make him suffer with need, And so she consented.

She leaned forward slightly, tucking her notepad back into her bag, tucked the pen behind her ear, and ran her hands up to the buttons of her shirt. Undid the top button. “What do you mean Professor… Do you mean you want sexual favors in exchange for raising my grade?” The professors eyes went up from her hands tugging down on her shirt front exposing the edge of her bra. His eyes locked with Kelly’s, a solid, calm look. Very austere. She gulped and undid another button, which got him to again glance down. This time to see her hands brush the shirt back from the center of the blue cotton bra to the cups.

 Small but perky her breasts were a source of childhood longing and teen angst, as a woman she grew to appreciate their compact firmness and she felt more comfortable sharing them. She slipped one out of its cup slightly, cupping her fingertips under it, she pinched the nipple, and watched the slight intake of breath pucker her professors lips under his mustache. He leaned forward slightly and whispered. “Hold that thought and position one moment.”

 He then went behind her chair again and slid the curtain back, to reveal Brian the young lanky awkward boy she remembered from her class. She gasped, realizing that Brian was privy to the whole conversation between the Professor and herself, not to mention that he was staring at her exposed nipple with a obviously delighted mix of desire and nerves.

“Brian why don’t you come in, Ms. Nesler was just showing me what she would be willing to do to improve her grade in the advanced Literature class. Brian, since you are the one who has been grading the papers lately as my grad student, Perhaps you would like to assist Ms. Nesler with her extra curricular studies.”

Kelly was thunderstruck, and frozen in horror with her right nipple exposed, but Brian knew just what to do. He moved swiftly into the room, and leaned over to whisper in her ear “Want to earn a A+?”

Brian stood over the wingback chair and unzipped his fly, exposing himself to her. She was taken back for a moment, as he reached forward to run his hand through her hair and then he jerked her head forward slightly as Kelly locked her eyes with the Professor who was watching with amusement.

 She kept her eyes locked with his, while the boy used her face to satisfy himself, or at least to excite himself as he seemed to be getting more and more excited and exuberant with his hands. He was rough with her skin, squeezing scraping, kneading it with his hands. He pinched her cheek with one hand strangely coarse and calloused and the other hand was cupped around the base of her skull pulling her ever forward insistently.  He somewhat dragged her out of the chair until she ended up on knees before him, her back to the professor who had evidently come forward because she could feel his hands cupping her bottom underneath her skirt. His hand encircled her waist and pulled her to her feet while Brian’s hand kept her from standing up, so that she was bent forward awkwardly. She felt one hand under her stomach supporting her as another deftly removed her cotton panties and came back to stroke up her inner thigh. She struggled somewhat feeling strangled by Brian, but she froze when a finger slipped inside of her, and she felt the finger slide in and out, firmly but slowly.

She couldn’t help but notice how her body responded. It was fantastic, and she relaxed into it allowing herself to enjoy this experience which was certainly new to her. Both men were filling her, Brian was so deep inside of her she could feel his nervous energy and then taste his pleasure in the slightly sweet pearls of precum he was spreading on her lips every time he withdrew.

The professors fingers were everywhere at once, inside of her, flicking and rotating her clit, stroking her ass as well as supporting her with his hand on her waist. She felt like she was being finger banged by either a Hindu god or a very horny octopus. Suddenly she felt him shift and she was penetrated by a wider and longer appendage. He filled her, and both he and Brian took turns surging forward to push her back and forth between them. Then they both pushed forward together slowly and it was intense, she felt like she was going to burst, but it wasn’t painful, just extreme.

They both pulled back, using hands to both support her and push away from her, and then they surged slowly forward filling her again and she writhed in pleasure between them, her hands darting first towards Brian, to flutter at his side, and then as they pulled back again she found them clutching at the professors tweed trousers.

Finally she let a hand slip between her burning thighs, and she touched her enflamed need, and began to rub herself into climax. First she was flicking and squeezing her fingers on either side of the clit forcing it to pop in and out of the thin layer of hood which protected it. Then she began to rub in a circle, and finally she began to rub back and forth over it at higher speeds as she felt the two men coming close to completion. They bucked inside of her, and she felt them both come to a pulsating thrusting end. And they sagged, Brian assisting her back to the chair in a somewhat chivalrous though exhausted manner.

She felt somewhat bruised, but in a good way, and pleased with herself as though she had accomplished something. She grinned at Brian, who winked and went back to the room beyond the curtain.

“I hope to see you again next semester Ms. Nesler… If you would excuse me, I really should get back to work.” With that he zipped up, and returned to his seat and the stack of papers as though she didn’t exist. Kelly straitened up hurriedly, and as she left she was both shocked and amused to see two girls waiting on the bench outside the office to speak to Professor Lurig.

Image from one of my favorite sculptors Ernesto Montenegro

Friday, September 10, 2010


We are not like you.

We are in fact so very different from you that when your people came to our planet at first they did not recognize us as a higher evolved life form. Your people have two legs, two arms, two eyes… You are polarized creatures divided into male and female. We are not. In fact when your representatives two eyes saw us for the first time he believed we were all one organism; he equated our network with a multi-cellular plant life that he was more familiar with. He did not realize that what he had thought was a forest was really more like a civilization of his own kind. What he thought was a natural trunk was really a constructed interface for the billions of individuals working on it. It was constructed of information cells which were manufactured from within our very bodies with a silica based liquid which hardened when in contact with the nitrogen in our atmosphere.

In other words, we sat hard at work on a storehouse of information, and this was just one repository in a veritable forest of millions of such, and not even a major one at that. I was hard at work cataloging the number and frequency of light flashes observed from a pulsar in a nearby galaxy so that mathematicians could come behind me and figure out the pattern and thereby decode the history of the people or peoples who lived on its orbiting planets (though it would have to be admitted that this was a inexact science and sometimes we actually decoded mythology and not historical documents in this method).

I was a minor observer, a celestial recorder. This was not a position of either great power or of great recognition amongst my own people, in fact my name was not recorded on any of the lists of accomplishments. I was not known to the elders, and It was unlikely that my genotype would be chosen to produce more offspring. However I was to become famous amongst my people very quickly for I was the first to greet the human and to bridge the gap between us in communication.

It was kind of a accident, I had finished the data branch And had dropped to the ground to talk to my supervisor when the human picked me up in their bare hand. I immediately secreted a string of dialogue displaying my fear and confusion. I asked the creature who or what they were. I demanded that they stop holding me up by my single limb.

Unfortunately the creature did not communicate by chemical data secretions like we do, and so it continued to carry me back to its base camp where it put me through a string of tests in its laboratory. A sample was sectioned off of my body which he looked at under a microscope. I did not mind the procedure since he then placed the section back in the Petri dish with me and I was able to reconstitute it back into my structure.

This action caused much excitement, and more of the creatures were brought in to observe the behavior, which I was pleased to demonstrate though it was getting boring. I was all the while listening to their vibrations and was beginning to realize how I would have to communicate with the beasts. Their verbal conversation was mathematical and I could see the patterns. I do not have ears, but fine cilia hairs on my limb allow me to judge and therefore analyze data from wind currents and vibrations. In time I got used to the main vocal patterns and could understand their speech. Unfortunately understanding was not the only requirement in dialog. I could not produce vibrations the way they could, and so I could not communicate back.

After much analysis I determined what type of organ would be able to give a output they needed, I programmed into my genetic data a chemical diagram for the organ and I soon had a viable vibration or sound based communicator. It was not unlike a drum I was later to be told, with a simple membrane and a flexible cilia with a round knob on the end. I could flex the cilia whip-like and hit the small bladder-like membrane to make a slight pop sound.

I then devised a simple code, with a very basic tertiary rhythm much like our own chemical alphabet.

There was much vocal response which I could not decipher yet during this process, but I just recorded said verbal response, and saved understanding for another time. Right now I had to determine that these creatures COULD understand me, that they had some type of communication skills however rudimentary.

Eventually after I tapped out counting by two until I reached thirty and did some other basic math that would have to be a universal truth to any legitimately sentient species capable of space travel.

I then paused and waited. Finally after much loud babbling there was a response, the researcher tapped the desk 3 times and them tapped it 6 times. Then it tapped it 9 times. Obviously he was responding by counting by threes. I tapped along with him to communicate 12 together in unison. Finally contact.

After much confusion over the next day we communicated back and forth with our basic tap-tap math while I worked on translations of the their verbal communications I had so far recorded, and eventually managed to decipher some simple words. By the end of the week I had managed to get them to acknowledge a basic alphabet and I had sampled enough of their language that I had a understanding of their vocabulary. We began to communicate in short sentences. I finally managed to explain that I was just one technician on the data tree and if they wanted to communicate with the entire data network I would be happy to translate but I would have to be returned to my tree to do so.

A group of five of the humans took me back to the data tree, and I attached to the node, and began to chemically report the past weeks activities, as well as restoring my nutrients and purging my effluents. The network took 2.34 nanoseconds to reach a decision about what to do with the new human element in our equation and then I was given a response to make to my new acquaintances. The response was “leave… no pun intended.”