Dark Wishes

Chapter 1

My heart hurts. It aches, and I cannot, for any reason, tell you why. I wish you would touch me. I wish you would look at me. But I know wishful thinking has never been a possibility with you. I found love, with another less deserving, but a love all the same. You hurt me. You tore me in two. She picked up your mess. She glued me back together. Her simple touch awakens a demon in me I cannot wait to meet. Her kiss is a spark of electricity shooting through me like lightning. Her touch, oh her touch! It sends the gates of Hell flying open to pull me into its depths. How can such a forbidden sin be so sweet? So, enticing? So, invigorating?

I fell for the wrong person at the right time. And I cannot say I regret the decision of loving you; merely, giving you my heart.

Her long blonde hair riveting down her back, makes me wonder of the feeling between my hands, to want to pull it and caress it. Her lithe figure, tugging at my soul and the nerves between my legs. Her always soft, delicate hands, making my mind wonder off to the adult-ish areas of life. Her lips force my mind and body to shut down for fear of overloading its processors. Her beauty makes me throb and whimper, especially at the thought of it between my legs or on top of me. I found her in my darkest of times, the ones you put me through. I thought it was a myth, the capability to love a woman, but here I stand – no doubt because of you, do I find myself seeking her caress. To feel her love reciprocated through the depths of our passion, a passion I wanted to show you.

My mind often wanders, to the days of happiness, unsure of exactly when it stopped. Those days full of laughter and family. Those days of compassion and love-filled gazes. Those were the days I loved and was loved in return. Those were the days we could be ourselves without fear of judgement, nowadays it seems we find the harshest judgement coming from each other. These were the days I felt some form of contorted joy within my life. They were full of confusion, rage, lust, and most of all – ignorance. You were toxic for me, like an Intravenous injection to keep me hydrated. You deprived me of everything I needed and wanted, but you argue that you gave me your world. You gave me what you thought I wanted. You gave me what you thought I needed. But the truth is, you were just out to poison me. You were too much. You were too toxic to keep your needle embedded in my skin.

Your poison corrupted my heart. Corrupted my brain. Even down to the last nerve in my body, you poisoned it. You turned me onto the ones who really loved me. You turned my heart to war with my brain. All with the flick of your wrists, I was at your mercy – begging for you to love me the way I inevitably loved you, but you didn't. You didn't embrace me before. You didn't want my brain. You didn't want my heart. You just wanted what was in between my legs, a place to keep your dick wet and a place for you to store your sperm. You wanted me for your own pleasure, your very own expenditure to command as you will. No more. I've moved on. You should too. I feel sorry for the next woman you turn into your own bitch, but I hope she fits your criteria better than I. I hope you can learn something by my leaving. I hope you can show her mercy, unlike what you showed me, and love her without limitations. They call it unconditional love. I have found it; my only wish is that you do too.

She said she loves me unconditionally. She's been with me in my times of need. She has been there. She's given me a taste of sin. And it is one urge I can never forget, nor ignore. My imagination is filled with naughty, kinky images of her. My train of thought is interrupted by her daily habits. The way her lips wrap around a beef stick, or the way she glides down the streets, making her ass stand out that much more. She is successfully my obsession and my love, my little mystery.

Our last throw of passion was by far my favorite. Coming home from a disastrous day at work, I gave her solace. From my hand in hers, my thumb caressing her luxurious skin, our lips wanting their own comforting embrace; our tongues, another. Wiping away the tears, was by-far the best act of the night. I wanted to take care of her like she had me. Frustration had built and filled itself past its brim. It was my turn to care for her. My turn to show her, I am here.

My lips stayed attached to her own, locking our tongues in a battle for dominance. My mind clouded, my eyes closed, and my body called itself to her attentions. Her hand found itself against my pale white skin, caressing something she truly does hold dear. My hand entwined itself in her luscious dark hair and tugged her head back, my lips moving along her jaw to the conjunction of her neck and shoulder. I bite her hard, leaving my mark on her golden skin. She is mine; and I was hers.

My hands pushed her down on the bed, pulling her wrists above her head. I was in control of her. She was submitting her mind, body and soul to me. That was all I needed to claim her as my masterpiece, my equal. I love to hear her moan and all it takes is my mouth leaving little sweet kisses or little dark hickeys across her body. I stripped off her shirt, as well as my own, and straddled her waist, pulling her closer against me. I traveled down from her collar bone to her pert little breasts, pulling the bra off and replacing its padding with my mouth and hand. Her hands found their way into my hair, pulling me further into her and urging my sucking to become more fervent. Her short gasps and quickening breathe against my head turned me on so much more than you ever could. My head lowered and left behind sweet soft kisses and licks as it went, traveling down to her sweet nectar.

I tugged at her belly ring and it seemed to add to her euphoria. Her denim waistband blocked any further advances I had until my hands could work away her belt, button and zipper. She raised her hips as I slid them down her lithe legs. Goodness, I absolutely love her, was the only thought to pass through my mind as I gazed down at her. My lust for this woman overpowered the want to just look at her. I straddled her waist, pulled her hands above her head and kissed her with every raw emotion I could muster. I tingled and ached for this woman. She created every emotion I have ever truly felt. My tongue fought with hers, making her submit to my will. Tonight, was her night. Breaking the kiss, she tilted her head to the side, moaning my name. My body slide down hers until my head was level with her sweetness. "Dont move." It came out more dominant than expected, but I was too lustful to care. My mouth latched on. My tongue instantly searching for her clit. Making long, smooth strokes up and down against her. Taking the time to make her writhe and plead for more.

Her legs wrapped themselves around my head and shoulders, pushing me even more flush against her. My tongue gliding over her, finding her sweet spot and relentlessly hitting it. Her hands left their post and found themselves in my hair to tug on my golden locks. As she was gasping for me to give her more, I inserted two fingers. I suppose it took her off guard, because she cried out my name. When she moans my name, it does so much to me; it makes me ache and tense. My body filled with need and I groaned into her. My fingers arched into her g-spot, pounding into it over and over, harder and faster.

She cried out my name as her body convulsed around me. I lapped at her sweet nectar, cleaning up the lovely mess I made. Lick by lick, she grew wetter; all while my fingers kept up the slow, torturous rhythm. I leaned up, to give her another kiss, my fingers still slowly moving in and out of her. She moaned into it, "I do taste yummy, but I bet you taste better." My cheeks went crimson red as all blood flow rushed to my head.

Just the thought of what we have is amazing. She is my shooting star. My Love. My Heart. My Song. And most of all, my Life. I found her in my darkest times; when I fought with you, she talked with me. When I cried over you, she showed me love. She was there where you failed to be; and for that, I love her. One to many a man has wronged me, now my companionship lies in the arms of a woman. She was there. You were not. And that sweet night of expression only solidified what I thought an act of fiction.

One woman. Many men. One choice. One life. One woman, for my one life. It all seems to fit, don't you think?

Life seems to change at even the slightest altercation, at the slightest wording, the slightest glimpse. It can change it all. Just one. That's all it takes. One. Not two. Not three. Not one million. Just one. And that one was exactly what threw me away, what threw me to her. What you fail to realize, is emotion isn't as foreign to everyone as you might think. I know what you felt. I know what you feel. I've lived it; I've dealt it. And I don't want it back. Yet, for some odd reason, it seems to be your favorite gift. Love was mine and pain was every bit yours. You knew the risks, I did not. You knew how to handle it, I did not. You knew every inch of my being, and I barely even knew one sixteenth of yours. It hurt, immensely. But she is my narcotic. She is slowly easing away the pain. Your pain.