|
|
#61
07-09-2011, 11:22 PM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
camping for more
|
|
#63
09-09-2011, 12:24 AM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
Quote:
 Mmmm. Drank a bit too much tonight. Here's an analogy just for fun: Jay Chou is an accomplished professional musician; classically trained too, and I respect him a lot for that. Superimpose the choruses of two of his big hits 'Feng' and 'Shan Hu Hai' however, and you'll find that they're recycled. Why? Because the chord progression (sorry for getting technical) sells, and sells damn fucking well, I might add  It gets worse the further you dig; and this is true for almost any pop star. I still listen to his stuff though... among other things. But then again, for all his fans out there who aren't trained musicians... it doesn't really matter right? 
__________________
.
|
|
#64
01-03-2012, 11:07 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
Ran into an old friend and mentor recently, who highlighted that one of my bad habits was leaving things unfinished despite a good start; as I did with my ambitions in music, among other things. I told him that was the problem with art, which is sustained largely by inspiration. It is indeed capable of a brilliance unmatched by more mechanical endeavours, and perhaps more than anything else, is the mark of human excellence. But whenever the fuel runs out for whatever reason, there is, strictly speaking, no guarantee when the next top up will come by, as well as any income that may result. And so Asian parents typically dream of their children becoming lawyers, doctors, engineers, maybe even politicians... and certainly not hotel-hopping pianists waiting for that big break.
I apologise if I have caused any readers undue frustration at having had to wait this long for the 12th instalment of my little story... although that presupposes this story is fascinating to such an extent; and that, I do not presume. For what it's worth, I present: XII. It has been said that there are but three elements which rule a human being; biomechanics, the passions, and reason. Our biological functions operate more or less like a machine, and allow only for the limited influence of various medical and physiological actions. To a certain extent of course, these functions also influence the passions, which can in turn greatly undermine our ability to reason. Assuming a healthy, properly functioning human body with no exceptional biological issues however, the passions and reason remain the two actively warring elements occupying the mind. That impossibly beautiful vulnerability before my eyes induced what can only be described as a sense of wonder in me. Sure, we had been making out intensely for the last twenty minutes or so; but the essence of it hit me even more pronouncedly at that moment. Reason suggested there was no substantial difference between what I was doing with Sarah and dogs humping on sidewalk. Passion told me something beautiful was taking place - unlike dogs, we can actually choose to engage in sex purely for pleasure. Reason's rejoinder was that it only made us more similar to dolphins than dogs. Passion hit back with the idea of foreplay, which is important as sex itself; a disctinction which animals do not make. I was finally left with the question of whether animals including humans engage in foreplay simply because they have additional means to do so (eg. additional limbs, fingers, opposable thumb etc.) or because of a more developed intellect. As somewhat of a chauvinist, I have always believed (and still do) that the measure of a man is in his self-restraint, especially when it comes to women - much as we men may be able to forcibly plow through a woman's private space and other physical barriers in order to satisfy our animal desires, we remain human only to the extent that we do not. And here she was, defenses gently left aside, with a look of intense longing in her eyes... a longing for me, of all things. An incredible satisfaction which only someone in my position, right here right now, would ever be able to enjoy. Why? Because tomorrow's look would be different; because perhaps even the next session's look would be different; because whatever was going through her head now could never be replicated; it was our first time with each other. That burning sense of newness, of a pleasure never before experienced. Could all of this register in a dog's or a dolphin's brain, and if so, in what manner? Well. My right middle finger, and later my index finger as well, moved slowly in and out of her love canal, which felt, as described in a popular movie, very much like warm apple pie. She sighed contentedly as I stroked upwards along the small ridge just behind the entrance, rubbing it firmly but gently; her entire body began to convulse ever so slightly with pleasure. Her skin, warm and flushed, suddenly brought thoughts of a Fuji apple to my mind, as irrelevant as it was; her fingernails dug deep into my left arm, almost painfully, but hardly diluting the resolve of my other arm and hand. I noted with irony how, similar to my observations when watching pornography, there seemed to be no substantial difference, or otherwise a remarkable parallel, in the physical reaction to immense pleasure and immense pain. Facial contortion, rapid and intense contraction of the muscles, sharp exhalation of breath, moaning and even crying out loud, are common to both. But yet we know that the divide between pleasure and pain is vast, to say the least. Perhaps, simply put, one results in a kind of happiness, and the other in anger, pain, and despair. The sounds she was making were slowly having their inevitable effect on me; my desire stoked to increasingly intense degrees... such an instense satisfaction. My thoughts drifted off momentarily to sadists aroused by their victims' screams of pain - their sensation of pleasure probably similar to mine, leaving only the difference of the source of that pleasure: one from natural affection, and another categorically evil. A little too close for comfort, though. As all these thoughts raced through my mind at breakneck speed, my eyes glazed over somewhat; she became a shimmering white pearl which I could not focus on in the dim moonlight. And then, as she motioned for my fingers to stop, she slowly sat herself upright and reached for groin with a firm, by now almost familiar grasp, pulling me towards herself. She lay back on the sofa again, her beautiful fair-skinned legs now parted wide. The dampness of her crotch lay in full view, lips slightly parted and filled with blood, its rose bud defiantly protruding out of its hood. She spoke. "Make love to me baby... please." I didn't speak a word, as I placed myself over her on all fours, wedging my legs between hers and spreading them a little wider. 'Animal or man?', was my last thought as I dove into her, my self-restraint unshackled.
__________________
.
|
|
#66
02-03-2012, 10:44 AM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
camping here
|
|
#68
02-03-2012, 04:03 PM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
Quote:
|
|
#69
02-03-2012, 04:47 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
Quote:
K lah, better now; and back to this forum in search of ... pleasure
__________________
.
|
|
#70
07-03-2012, 05:38 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
I am very sure that being a suicide bomber has never been one of my ambitions. This being the case, I am not in a position to give a credible account of what it's like to be blown to pieces by high explosives. Ironically, due to the one-time nature of their work, actual suicide bombers are also not in a position to give an account of what their work is like. We can only imagine the sensation... although I would think whatever there is to experience is likely to be over in a flash (literally), since there is very shortly nothing left to sense it with.
This is probably not the most appropriate way to begin another chapter of an erotic story, but at any rate I am neither a professional writer, nor a likely candidate in the near future. Hmm. XIII. The shot of adrenaline through my veins as I penetrated her to the hilt sent my heart racing; she cried out in pleasure. Maybe this is how suicide bombers feel like at the point of detonation, I thought. Based on a general understanding of what middle-eastern suicide bombers believe, they immediately enter heaven once their noble task is completed. My task was hardly noble, but it certainly felt like I was in heaven nonetheless. I soaked her in with all five of my senses, frantically thrusting into her with every ounce of passion I had. We kissed again and again, her muffled moans even echoing down my throat, sounding like someone was gagging her. I felt like a black hole, absorbing all of her beauty into the bottomless pit that was my desire... the sight of her; the sound of her; the smell of her; the taste of her; the touch of her. She. This was as I close to her as I could ever be, holding her in my arms and enjoying the most intimate and pleasurable activity a man and woman could engage in. The sensations on my shaft were like some kind of strange cross between throbbing, burning, and itching, all insanely driving me on towards the obvious end. I could feel the pressure building up down below; from both my own contractions as well as her firm grip on me - it fit like a glove. "Oh god baby, it feels so good..." she said under her breath. "Yeah, I know." was all I could manage as I huffed and puffed. "Don't stop... don't stop... faster... harder!" she pressed. I raised myself up to an upright kneeling position for easier thrusting, lifting her bottom off the sofa and holding her thighs apart with my hands. I watched as her body shook with my every thrust; her breasts bouncing back and forth like two heads nodding up and down in acknowledgment of what I was doing, their pointed tips swollen and full. Her hands reached for my shoulders and pulled me closer with a vice-like grip, even as her the pitch of her moaning continued to climb up the sonic scale. The dull thud-thud-thud of our hips colliding resounded in the dark silence of the apartment, which was now pitch black. She whispered into my ear. "I love you, baby." "I know baby... I know... I love you too." With that, I decided to slow down for a while; there were pins and needles in my legs already, at any rate. She was breathing heavily as well and followed my lead as we shifted to a sitting position, with her riding me. I stroked her face and looked into her eyes, which now glanced shyly downwards. "What's the matter girl?" I asked her. "Hah just catching my breath," she said softly, a nervous little smile crossing her face. "I suddenly feel a little embarrassed." "What on earth for?" I said. "Just... the way you made me feel just now... never imagined I'd be crying out like that... so silly!" she began to giggle. "Haha... you're really cute, you know that. Anyway, you weren't born yesterday; I'm sure you know it's only normal for females to be more uh... vocal, during lovemaking." I said with the most reassuring smile I could muster. "Ya I know, I know... Mmm never mind, let's continue shall we... god I'm so addicted to you..." "The feeling is mutual, trust me." As we slowly got into motion again, I enjoyed the feeling of simply being inside her... Siamese twins came to mind... not sure why. I held her close, my mouth on those incredibly delicious nipples of hers again, indulging in that ever so instinctive pleasure of sucking on them - even babies know what nipples are for the moment they're born, after all. My hands grasped her soft, ample bottom, alternating between stroking and squeezing them... so pleasant to the touch, they were. I used one finger to apply some pressure on the other hole at her rear end, while simultaneously pressing her hips down onto me with my forearms, driving my rod as deep into her as possible. I could feel her contract strongly, as she let out a deep moan that sounded more like a wail. She began to raise herself up and down on my lap; her face was contorted with the intense satisfaction coming from our organs rubbing against each other deep inside. Her nipples brushed against my chest repeatedly as her breasts bounced in tandem with their owner's every movement. I followed up by placing my left thumb on her love bud, rubbing it from left to right. It was a bit of a struggle, seeing as how she was rapidly picking up the pace, but I was pretty certain that the sensation of having all the sensitive elements between her legs attended to all at the same time was getting to her. Strange as it might sound, I tried as hard as I could to keep my mind off my dick. If I paid just a little more attention to how good it felt down there for me, there was no doubt that disaster would be waiting right around the corner. I focussed on making sure the intensity of pleasure she was experiencing was maintained, and I could tell from her facial expression that she was close to the point of no return. I wondered whether if she even cared that I wasn't wearing rubber, but I suppose that was probably the worst possible time to raise the issue; whatever restraint she might have had was long gone as well. "Nnnnnhh.... Oh god... oh god... oh fuck... nnnnn" she continued moaning incoherently, as she bobbed up and down faster and faster. Her movements were obsessive; she looked more and more like she was working out in some strange kind of gym. My hands stopped their work, and went to her waist instead, aggravating the impact of her hips on mine. I felt her fluids slowly dripping down the sides of my shaft like lava and down my balls even. I faintly felt the touch of her cervix on the tip of my lesser head. Her fingernails dug into my shoulders again, signalling that she was reaching her limits. And then... Her entire upper body weight hit me in the face as she came, crying out, shuddering fiercely, and covered in sweat; she hugged me so tight I felt like I was being suffocated by her breasts, which smothered me like two rapidly expanding airbags in a car crash. It was an amazing sight, seeing her in this state, and it aroused me to no end. Panting, she semi-collapsed into my arms and very nearly lost her footing on the sofa, letting out a small squeal as she hung on to my shoulders. I broke out in muffled laughter even as she stared indignantly at me, still huffing and puffing. This was good, I quietly thought to myself, I'm not at breaking point yet, and my amusement is distracting me from my own arousal. "You laugh at me!" she said in mock anger, barely able to contain her own laughter. "Ahaha..." "You're such an asshole!" "Oho... if you only knew what your asshole felt like while you were busy using me like a dildo on a stand ahahaha..." She hit me in jest repeatedly until she grew tired, settling into a pout. "Did I look very desperate?" she asked tentatively. "Girl," I said, drawing her close again. "even when you're making love to me, you're still so self-conscious?" "Ok ok I know... it's female insecurity, alright?" she replied, snuggling up to me. "Did you like it?" "You have no idea... I had to restrain myself or we'd be having a shotgun wedding in no time." She giggled, stroking me down below. "Oh dear, did I do that?" she asked laughingly, pointing to all the fluid on my crotch, and the damp, dark spot on the sofa beneath. "You sure did girl... someone might think your water bag broke instead." she hit me again, laughing out loud. She sat beside me, placing her head on my right shoulder, and continued stroking me. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. I wrapped my arms around her, fondling her breasts with both my hands, enjoying that divine shape and softness. She continued to toy with my tool, pinning it backwards with a finger just so she could watch it spring back up. I was getting harder. "You ever played with wind-up toys when you were a kid?" I asked her. "Mm? Ya I think so. Why?" she gave me a suggestive look as she continued to play with me. "If you over-wind them, they get spoilt permanently. You know, spring snaps, toy falls apart, et cetera." "And so?" she stared at me as she lowered her mouth onto my swollen member. "Oh shit..." was all I could manage to say, before I went under.
__________________
.
|
|
#75
08-03-2012, 05:49 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Re: The Music Lovers
Quote:
__________________
.
|
| Advert Space Available |
|
 |
| Bookmarks |
|
|
Re: The Music Lovers
