These eyes ...

I'm being haunted by beautiful eyes. They smile at me and crinkle at the corners. They are warm and sexy. And they make me feel beautiful.

They seem to belong to an angel, my angel.

I am loved. Wholly.

The eyes are set in a beautiful face, attached to a beautiful body.

Sometimes, the daydream extends to the physical act of "making love". Having sex.

Sometimes, just holding on to me. Cuddling. Extending physical comfort makes my heart open, my soul sing and my muscles relax.

I want to write this. To share the story, but it feels too intimate.

It's also unfinished. And ever changing. Flowing.

It's just a fantasy. Writing it makes seem more real.

Also I'm dealing with another bout of depression. My first in more than five years. I want to just wallow and whine and give in to the apathy. I have to fight this compulsion to give in.

Vanilla no go

I tried to masturbate using a vanilla fantasy again. 

It's impossible. 

Unless there is some power imbalance in the relationship, it never works.

 If there isn't some force, reluctance, non-consent tint to the situation, it never works. Usually it's just outright abuse. 

Sometimes, I feel broken. 

I heard Barbara Carrellas on a radio interview and she said she was talking to an abuse survivor and the survivor felt guilty about her fantasies. She told the women that her fantasies were just fantasies, and she should embrace that she could bring herself to orgasm with her mind. 

I shared this blog with a friend and he pointed out how lacking my last post was. At first I was a bit defensive. But I came to realize it was true. It wasn't my best effort. It was a friend I hadn't talked to in several years. It felt like the universe sent me the message "DO BETTER." So I will try to honor that. 

So thanks for constructive criticism. I will do better. I sent my next book to my editor, so I'm working on something for the blog. This one has a more romantic tone.

http://asraidevin.tumblr.com/  Something I've been playing with. Highly infrequent.