I love to write.
But I have been seated here for hours, facing this 'seeded' Ogun* board whose bright screen stares lustfully at me. I can only wish I could evoke the dreaded Sango* from his ancient slumber to spit words in place of fire and fill this blank screen with words. In my weakness, I could still sense I'd awaken an ancient struggle between deities, much older than my first word.
Before my eyes, they came alive. spitting fire, raining thunder. Flashes of lightning flares from my screen as metal meets fire. The battle of the gods has begun. I crawled to a corner and watched as history repeat itself. Naked gods, caught in a war of supremacy, sending balls of fire flying carelessly.
One of such balls dropped lightly on my board. It licked by screams in its fury before lashing out on my keys. Frightened on seeing my board go up in flames, I conjured Olokun* who rising from her throne in the sea, made the sky heavy and poured her burden on the warring dieties. Earth rejoiced as water deified the warring gods and humanity was born.
I woke up.
In front of me lies my laptop, drenched in water. I must have been dreaming.
Ogun* mythical god of iron. Sango* yoruba lightning god. Olokun* yoruba goddess of the sea
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Sunday, 6 February 2011
Used.
Here, I wait, holding back my hands from touching Kourtney because she would not be touched. I'd touched her yesterday like never before, fingering her every parts, thumbing away on her board till my fingers went numb.
Today, she sits in a corner on my bed, and would not be touched. I wouldn't hurt her if I could but yesterday, I'd used her like never before. My strokes were harder but with such fluidity like one playing a classical piece on the keyboard - her keyboard.
I felt the firmness of her curves as it responded to my touch. I chose my words carefully, stringing letters with my fingers, reaching notes never before imagined. In the throes of orgasm -with words spilling in rhythmic procession, she clutched my thumbs as the other 8 fingers stroke her bare back and muttered several random words but one stood out. " We've never done it together like this before". And I replied, "She made me do it. Elinor made me do it".
Kourtney went silent. I saw the red light blinking incessantly,
indicating a flat battery. I felt for Kourtney, my BB.
Today, she sits in a corner on my bed, and would not be touched. I wouldn't hurt her if I could but yesterday, I'd used her like never before. My strokes were harder but with such fluidity like one playing a classical piece on the keyboard - her keyboard.
I felt the firmness of her curves as it responded to my touch. I chose my words carefully, stringing letters with my fingers, reaching notes never before imagined. In the throes of orgasm -with words spilling in rhythmic procession, she clutched my thumbs as the other 8 fingers stroke her bare back and muttered several random words but one stood out. " We've never done it together like this before". And I replied, "She made me do it. Elinor made me do it".
Kourtney went silent. I saw the red light blinking incessantly,
indicating a flat battery. I felt for Kourtney, my BB.
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