A Peak in My Journal
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Such an easy mark am I. A smiling glance, a wayward hand brushed against my thigh, a teasing flirt and I am alive. I must stiffen my resolve, but how can I, when even the word excites me. No, not the word “resolve” silly reader.
If you are going to dip into the truth of my mind you must be ready for the nasty truth of it. Not death or deceit or anything so sinister . This is real life for goddess sake, not some fairy tale. Oh but death of innocence perhaps, and the deception to one’s true nature. To that I will concede, but nothing more depraved than that.
Slip between my brain cells and you will find a steamy concoction of lust, fantasy and fear. Fear? Are you surprised reader? But true enough. Fear that reality will give way to fantasy and lust will have its day.
The day lust helms the ship is either the day she is run aground, reality rising up like rocks, splitting her from stem to sternum, or it is the day she is lost at sea. Drown between waves of pleasure, tossed about in foamy ecstasy, whilst pelted by a down pour of sweet words and wet kisses.
So now you see, dear reader, my dilemma. Do I choose the safety of the bay, status quo, reality, self control and boredom, or risk rocks for rain?
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