*growls at blogger*

I’m currently in the Dominican Republic, in Puerto Plata to be more specific. We got here on Wednesday. Yesterday we went to swim with the dolphins in Ocean World. It was fun. I went snorkeling too. Loads of big fishies and pretty corals. Rink hardly moved, he was too busy staring and being amazed by all the prettiness. I had to drag him everywhere; he’s still being a dickhead. He’s blocked when it comes to me, as the lovely witches from Santo Domingo would say.

At times when I’m with him, I get so confused and angry, I want to break his skull and look at him lie helplessly on the floor. He would plea, his sky blue eyes on the verge of tears. I would have him submitted, like a fallen prey in the hands of a merciless killer. I would lick his tears and kiss his lips, dry from the fear. In pure delight I would lick the blood off his face, then I would get on top of him to kiss him… to feel him. His body is such a marvel. It twists and flinches and turns all possible shades of red. Blood and tears. Just thinking about it makes me want to do him over and over him. *insert deep breath* who said sick pleasure couldn’t be equally enjoyable? Or even more?

Have I ever described my lover? He can be such a pest. Mind games are his speciality. He loves to give me a jesting, condescending look. He delights in tricking people and confusing them so they can loose focus. He seems to find the human mind to be amusing, specially when it looses track of what it’s saying or doing. He’s a mirage, harboring his innocent malice beneath an angel’s face. But have I ever told you how beautiful is the sky in his eyes? You can almost see stars take a peak at night. Those same eyes that hold so many secrets from me, those same eyes that submerge you in a frozen wasteland… he can stroke you with a gaze and make love to you with a smile. His hair is soft, black silk threads woven to perfection. I’ve wondered if roses kissed his skin at birth…

He inspires poetic verses out of me, along with insufferable bouts of lust and desire. Last night we had one of our famous random fights. It was just so stupid. And even so, I discovered something amidst all the crap. As my last bit of patience died away as a worn candle I saw that he’s every bit of my perfect imperfection. Haven’t I always described him as a fallen angel? My Dark Eros. I kiss your anger, I drink from your desolate sadness, I breathe your melancholy… what do you search for in others that you can’t find in your own self?

You grate my nerves you little asshole. You know how bad I want you, you know how you want me just as well! What the fuck is it with these questions?! You know I won’t answer them. Are you even more cynical than myself when it comes to you? Fucking pisses the hell out of me that you think everyone is as shallow as you are. You think you are only worth for the sex?! And of all people I AM telling you this. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be angry. I swear but CHRIST, you sure as hell don’t help. You have any doubts, ASK ME. You have a mouth for something other than kissing and sucking.

To be continued…? Tan tan tan…