Dear Reader

The Emotional Journal is mostly a collection of fictional journal entries by the characters of Telly Serone. These entries may contain adult language, sexual innuendo, erotic themes, and downright sexual content. Therefore, this site is intended for adults age 18 and over.

You can simply scroll down the page to read entries to The Emotional Journal, starting with the most recent. You can find specific entries under "Recent Journal Entries" on the right side of the screen. Entries are also grouped by "label" just below "Recent Journal Entries." Be sure to leave a comment about The Emotional Journal. Various characters will post several entries. Catch a glimpse into their thoughts and lives, and follow them through new experiences.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

deeper level

i'm taking you to a level so much deeper
i'm making love to your mind
i'm reaching the innermost spaces
that even for you are hard to find

the deepest depths of your cerebrum
where all your hidden thoughts are kept
i make you go there and retrieve them for me
because no one else can get you this wet

no one else has ever drained your passion
to the point that you've lost all control
no one else has ever had you so naked
i've gotten in your skin and i've exposed your soul

no one else has mastered your defenses
to the point where you just can't resist
i know just what to say and how to say it
i know just how to touch and where to kiss

no one else has been so consistent
on my body you can rely
don't need chemicals or drugs
i provide an orgasmic high


Thursday, May 3, 2007

kevin d.

dear ej,

Call me crazy, but I love my wife. So much that I'm willing to do what most men would deem unthinkable. I'm going to allow her to sleep with other men.

The thing is, I know that I'm a good husband. Better yet, I'm a great husband. I'm a wonderful father and a fine provider. The relationship I have with my wife is fantastic. Our bond is emotionally, mentally and spiritually sound. But there is one facet of that equation that is missing. The physical one.

I think that every man knows whether or not he has satified a woman. I think every man knows whether or not he's good in bed in general. Therefore, being totally honest, I know that I am not.

Angel and I are best friends who can talk about anything. So we were able to communicate about the fact that I was not getting the job done, so to speak. She tried to teach me how to please her. We tried sex toys. We tried romance videos. We tried porn. We tried an intimacy coach. We tried a sex camp/retreat we saw on real sex. We tried viagra. (That helped some.) But the biggest problems are that I just don't have the stroke and rhythm...or the size.

The thing that, sort of, works against me, is that Angel is quite experienced... sexually. And she has had some pretty good lovers in her past. She's had guys who were quite sizeable. A couple were even too big for her to handle. She's had guys who "banged her back out," as they say. She had one guy who would make her have so many orgasms that she would lose count. So as you can see I have numerous tough acts to follow. Acts that I have no shot in hell to even come close to.

I think the biggest reason why a guy might be afraid to do this, is the risk of losing his wife to some guy who "knows how to work it." But I don't think that would happen. You see, even though a lot of the guys she's been with have been great in bed, they turned out to be horrible in relationships. They treated her badly. They were terrible communicators. Most of them couldn't even hold a steady job. I, on the other hand, am everything angel wants in a man except great sex. The way I see it, if I can arrange the great sex for her, while providing all of her other needs, there will be nothing for me to worry about. It will simply be another way that I make sure my wife is taken care of.

Call me crazy, but I love her that much.

-- kevin d.

Friday, April 27, 2007

desmond h.

dear ej,

Torry Logan does not stand a chance against me. He never has. I beat him when we were kids. I beat him when we were amateurs. I beat him in the Olympic trials. I'm sure he knows that I will beat him again. But still, he demands to fight me. What a fool.

I'm in the best shape of my life. My body has never been more chiseled. I look like a sculpted piece of stone. My abs are rock hard. It's like I'm wearing a molded plate of armor.

My feet have never been quicker. I'm like lightning whether I step in or out. Yesterday when I was leaving the gym after I broke training, I amazed some little girls down the block who were turning double-dutch. No matter how fast they turned, the rope never touched me.

My hands are putting on a display of speed and power that is almost never-before-seen. When I'm punching the speed bag everybody in the gym just stops and stares. The sound is so rhythmic. It reminds you of a drummer in a military marching band. The cadence is perfect.

I almost lost another sparring partner today because I hit too hard. The only way my manager could talk him into staying was if I wore gloves with extra padding. It's like I'm a cyborg with metal underneath my skin. But still, Torry Logan demands to fight me.

My ring vision is unbelievable. I see punches coming even before they are thrown. And with my cat-like reflexes, a boxer throws his best combination at me and hits nothing but air. It's like I'm Neo in the matrix.

By chin is like iron. In the rare occasion that a punch lands, even right on the button, it doesn't even register on the scale. Send as much ammunition as you can, but my chin is bulletproof. It's like I'm wearing a Kevlar chinstrap. But still, Torry Logan demands to fight me.

But I know why. He knows this is the only fight that can bring him the kind of exposure that he has been after for his entire career. He knows this is the only fight that can silence his critics who have for years accused him of avoiding me. He knows this is the only fight that can bring him the kind of payday he's been dreaming about. Shyt, after this fight, he'll damn near have enough to retire on. In fact, I'm going to hit him so hard, that is exactly what he'll want to do. Retire.

-- desmond h.

Monday, April 23, 2007

john s.

dear ej,

The job is confirmed. The wire transfer of $250,000 to the dummy account is complete. I'll get the other half in cash when I deliver Sal Tivoli's left hand to the one who hired me. That person shall remain nameless, even in my own journal.

According to the one who hired me, "Big Sal" will be in Washington, DC, for a relaxing week at the outstanding Mandarin Oriental Hotel. No doubt, in one its finest suites. My contact cannot give me an exact room, or exact date. But, frankly, if that was necessary, I wouldn't be worth every penny of what I'm being paid.

The final details of Tivoli's trip probably won't be worked out until the very last minute for security purposes. But when they are, I'll be eavesdropping. Not on Tivoli himself, but on the FBI. They've already put the wire taps and video and Internet surveillance in place. All I have to do is scan and monitor their transmissions.

The fun part part will be making Sal disappear while agents follow him in DC. I love doing that to the bureau. It'll be my third time. The first was when I made Joe Vincinso vanish from that restaurant in Philadelphia. And then there was the time the agents lost sight of Tony Delgado's Mercedes during that mob funeral in Jersey. Time and again, I use their own tactics and procedures against them.

But it's what they deserve. They are no better than the crooks who they claim to be after. There is no justice in protecting gangsters in exchange for their testimony against other gangsters. Instead of ridding the world of this scum, they give them new lives and identities. To continue to be a part such a thing is the very face of hypocrisy.

It serves more benefit to my psyche that I end the lives of menaces to society like Sal Tivoli. Men who kill for reputation, respect, and amusement. I do more good than harm when men like this cease to exist. And I do even more good than harm when I see to it that people like the one who hired me meet the same fate.

-- john s.

Friday, April 6, 2007


sometimes you sound so damn cute
like the way you say my name
sometimes when you wear that gray sweatsuit
you set my loins aflame
sometimes you make me hard
just from the way you're laying
sometimes i wanna fukk you
just because of how your hips are swaying

sometimes just seeing you when i get home
makes my day ok
sometimes i'm so hot for you
i wanna get in it with no foreplay
sometimes you can make me horny
just by walking across the room
sometimes your sex is so damn good
it makes me cum too soon

sometimes i get erect at work
just from thinking of you
sometimes when you're on top you get in a zone
and i don't know what to do
sometimes i just have to thug you out
smacking your ass and pulling your hair
sometimes i sleep fine with no sex at all
just knowing that you are there


Sunday, April 1, 2007

sharon g. (part 2)

be sure to check out journal entry
sharon g. (part 1)

dear ej,

I'm a big basket of emotions right now! As a matter of fact, you can add fear and embarrassment to the mix. I know I'm not getting any sleep tonight. Not after what happened.

Ok, so picking up where I left off last time, he rings the doorbell. I'm all nervous, but trying to be sexy at the same time. I go to the door, but I realise I'm about to open it wearing a black lace teddy and high heels. I think to myself, "Hold on girl, this ain't the fuckin' Bunny Ranch." I'm not trying make him think he's gonna just walk into some pussy, you know? So, I run start running to my bedroom to get my bathrobe out of the closet.

Bad move. The heel breaks on my left shoe, and I lose my balance. As I'm falling, I push one of the end tables out of my way so that I don't fall into it, but I'll fall into the couch instead. Bad move. One of the vases my mother gave to me crashes to the floor. She is going to whoop my ass.

Anyway, I get my robe, put it on, and throw my heels into the closet. I'm thinking it might be better to just wear no shoes since I gotta hurry up and run to the door. Bad move. Remember the vase that broke? I slip on a big piece of it as get into the living room. Good thing it was ceramic, or else it might've cut me. But I did hurt my wrist breaking my fall.

So, at this point, I'm thinking maybe I should stop running through this place. I take a deep breath and I open the door. I'm trying to smile, even though I'm thinking, 'I know he just heard all that damn noise.' Sean has this smirk on his face like what the hell was going on in there! But he doesn't say anything stupid. Instead, he gives me a big hug and whispers in my ear, "You need me to help you clean up whatever you broke in there?"

I accepted his offer and let him in after I was done enjoying his warm embrace. He made me laugh to try and lighten the moment as we cleaned up the broken vase, found the heel of my shoe, and put the end table back where it belonged. Before you know it we were having a great time talking and drinking the champagne as we sat together on the couch. Ok, we didn't just sit on the couch. We were kind of all over each other on the couch.

Pretty soon we ended up in my bedroom. I guess you could say everything was going well. At least for him it was. I mean, I can't say I was putting up very much resistance. Ok, maybe no resistance. Sean is scorching hot, after all. When he took his shirt off, I kind of, melted like this morning's breakfast butter. That must've been part of his game plan, because every time my eyes found his chest and his sculped abs, they'd just roll up in my head again. But then he decided he wanted to flip me over and hit it from the back. Bad move.

As soon as I got on my hands and knees, my wrist burst into flames. Well, not literally. But this was the same wrist I hurt earlier when I broke my fall while slipping on the broken vase. I guess putting pressure on it reaggravated the injury. So instead of telling Sean I was in excruciating pain, I let him go ahead and get in me like Keith Murray. Bad move. Maybe I thought the pleasure of good sex would drown out the pain. It didn't. And after a few moments of pumping me like a piston, Sean discovered that the chassis had run out of lube.

Yeah. It was like metal grinding on metal in there. I was so embarrassed I couldn't lift my head to face him. He pulls out and tries to comfort me. He's all rubbing my back and asking "What's wrong?" and "Are you ok?" And there I am, still on all fours with my ass in the air and my face burried in my pillow ready to cry. Finally, he lays me on my side and spoons with me until I fall asleep. When I woke up this morning he was gone.

And I thought I was uncertain and nervous before! Now I'm going crazy wondering when or even if he's gonna call me today. Maybe I should call him and tell him what happened to me. Is he going to think I'm silly for not saying anything last night? Maybe he's going to think I'm an emotional wreck and decide I'm not worth the trouble. Maybe I... Oh shit... The phone's ringing.

-- sharon g.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

i'm sick of all the bullshit (the preclude)

precludes "you're sick of
the bullshit?" by

Guestblog from

author of: "summa this & summa that"

I'm sick of all the bullshit,
I'm tired of all the games,
I'm tired of pointing fingers,
I'm tired of calling names,
My head just keeps on spinning,
I cannot make it stop.
I cannot keep on going,
I think I may just drop.
I can't deceive myself
I need to heed the truth.
I want to believe in us,
but I'm afraid there is no proof.
No sign of your faith,
No way for me to know,
what's real or just a game...
I'm full of hate, of rage and jealousy..
Of envy and despair
I want to run, to free this part of me.
To inhale fresher air..
I need to exorcise, rid myself of these feelings
detoxify, cleanse, flush out all the demons.
I gave you only love,
You gave me only lemons
I tried to make it sweeter
to make it wonderful...
You poisoned every drop,
and killed most of my hope, my faith, my sincerity...
I only feel sadness, and empty all inside..
I have nothing left to give,
no more gas to fuel the ride.
This is my moment of silence,
my time to marinate,
My chance to sit and ponder,
Just what road I will take

Saturday, March 24, 2007

natalie c. (part 2 of david e.)

be sure to check out journal entry
david e. (part 1)

dear ej,

Classes are done. Finals have been taken. Second semester is over. My dorm room is all packed up. I have my plane ticket home. Now comes the hard part. Somehow I have to find the nerve to face David. Gosh, there's so much he doesn't know.

He probably hates me. Not that I would blame him. I guess I probably seemed pretty selfish. I really didn't explain myself much at the time. All that b.s. about meeting new people, seeing what else is out there, experiencing different things. I can't believe I actually pushed that through my lips. I lied right to his face. But it was easier than telling him the truth. It was easier than telling him about the baby.

It was easier than telling him that I had hidden a pregnancy. A pregnancy that was conceived on our prom night. A night that was so perfect and so beautiful. But it was a night that produced something that I was not ready for. I know I was irresponsible for not using protection. But I couldn't have that baby. Not now. Not with all the pressure I have on me to succeed.

From the time I was a kid. Learning to read at age 3. My uncle always calling my parents from jail. Putting me on the phone so that he could hear me read something to him. A magazine, a TV Guide. Anything. My grandmother has scrapbooked my every report card since middle school. My father paid $800 to broadcast my high school graduation on local cable tv when he found out that I would be Valedictorian.

I had every relative calling me all the time asking which school I had decided on. Everybody was reminding me that I'd be the first of Papa Charles' great-grandchildren to make it. I was going to restart the tradition since none of his grandchildren and only one of his children went to college. I was the smart one. I was the good girl.

Maybe that's why I was irresponsible that night. Maybe that's why it felt so good. One moment of sweet rebellion. It's weird. You want to do something. But then people expect you to do something. It starts out as something for you. But then it becomes something for them. Soon, you don't want to do something as much as you did before. But if you don't do it you'll be a disappointment. You'll be a statistic. You'll be a lost cause. You'll be a wasted effort. You'll be a failure. I couldn't have that baby. Not now.

But after that procedure, the guilt set in. First about the baby. Then about not telling David. Then about not telling my family. Then I remembered all the pressure that was on me. I just wanted to get away. As far away as I could. Far away from the pressure. Far away from the guilt. But inevitably, there is no escape.

I have to begin to deal with this. I love him too much to let this continue. Now comes the hard part. How do I get him to talk to me?

-- natalie c.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

body interview

when i get into you
it'll be in depth just like an interview
i'll ask your body questions
feel my way around to keep going in the right direction
to avoid any ho-hums and yawns
i pay close attention when your body rezponds
i'm anticipating your reaction
i'm keeping things moving, no lullz in the action
interesting and thought provoking
you've got your eyes closed but your mind is wide open
when we started you were in your clothes
then i got below the surface and your soul was exposed
your innermost desires were revealed
now inquiring minds want to know, love, how does it feel?
your body answers with a shiver to my touch
a twitch when i kiss, and many shakes when i thrust
your body tells me how to make you cum
and i'll be sure to file this information when this interview's done
g-14 classified, padlock and key
i never reveal my sources this is privy only to me
i ask your body questions
never with words, but well-timed injected erections
girl, when i get into you
i go to great "length" to get in depth just like an interview


Sunday, March 18, 2007

marina b.

dear ej,

My parents are making my life miserable. They say they're trying to protect me. But what they're doing in the process is making me hate living here. They are not allowing me the chance to have a life. Why is it that i have to suffer because of the mistakes they made when they were my age?

I feel trapped in this house. I only get to go out to a movie like two or three times a month. And when i do, i have to take my little brother and sister. Sometimes they even arrange to have my little cousins to get dropped off over here so they can go too. My best friend Kellie puts up with it because she knows I'll go crazy if I have to deal with all those kids by myself. But its so embarrassing for her to see me in that situation. She feels really sorry for me.

She tries her best to get my parentz to like and trust her so that we can go out by ourselves, but that only works once in a while. Even when I'm allowed out without the rugrats, I'm only given a limited time, like three hours and then i have to be back home.

I can't even sleep over at Kellie's without my mom confirming with her mom first. That is so lame! Kellie's mom even thinks my folks are over doing it. Even she believes you gotta trust your kid at least a little bit. She lets Kellie talk to boys. Kellie even asks her mom for advise in her relationships! It's so fucking unfair. I wish I had parents who would let me live.

Me being allowed to have a boyfriend is out of the question. If I'm on the phone, it better be with a girl. If I go out, it better be with my best friend or with another gurl. I can't go to clubs because there's boys there. No parties, boys are there. All this because my mom got pregnant with me when she was 18. So that gives her valid reason to cock-block me? Bullshyt. unlike her, I know how to make a boy put on a fucking condom. They are so stupid! They dont even realise that if I was a lesbian, they'd be making it easy for me to get pussy. Matter of fact, thats why I tried sex with a girl in the first place! I get tired of fucking myself. Im on my fifth vibrator in three months!

I'm like a caged animal in here waiting for the day I can get let out. when I'm at school, I'm like the biggest nerd. I'm trying to learn everything so I can keep a high gpa, so i can get a scholarship and get the fuck outta here. And I'm going to a school far away too. Somewhere you've gotta get on a plane to get to. They figured that putting me on lockdown was tha best way to get me to study and get good grades and not get pregnant. Well, it's fucking working.

Just thinking about this shit has got me so stressed. I can't wait till they go to sleep. My 420 is rolled up and ready to flame.

-- marina b.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

eric a.

dear ej,

I could see it in her pretty hazel eyes that she was nervous. She had given me a couple blow jobs since we've been hangin out, but i knew she hadn't gone all the way yet. So my mission was to take it slow and make sure she was relaxed. We had roughly two hours before her folks were due back from the movies, but that was plenty of time. The key to her was kissing; a lot of kissing. But I didn't mind because she's really good at it. She's got big, soft lips and an active, wet tounge (two reasons why her "head" is "bananas").

I wanted us to undress slowly. I let her undress me and I undressed her, all the while sharing deep passionate kisses. She was wearing matching purple lace underwear. She had told me in conversation before how she felt sexy in purple lace. She was definately ready for what was happening.

When the clothes were all off, my mouth went on a tour of her body. I could hear her breathe deeply with delight as I explored. When I arrived down below, I couldn't believe how sweet she tasted. It was like she was oozing honey and vanilla. I got so turned on as she grabbed my head and started to spit sexy oh's and yes's. That made it all the more enjoyable as I parted her tight lips with my tounge, trying to loosen up her walls for what was coming next. The more I probed, the more her perfect thighs trembled with pleasure.

When her river flowed so heavily that I thought I would drown, i lifted my head and began to climb. We shared one more deep liplock as i prepared to enter her. I pressed the head of my dick to the fuzzy skin of her sweet peach, then suddenly she stopped me. "Wait baby," she said. "I wanna suck it before you fuck me." Then she brought me to her mouth and pleasured me better than she ever had before, which is saying a lot.

She made me swell to the throbbing point, which may not have been good for a first-timer. As I pressed myself inside, her joyful moans changed to pangs of distress. Her hands clenched the sheets and she bit her bottom lip, trying to ignore the pain. I went as slow as I could, trying to give her skin a chance to stretch around my rock hard member. But she was working against that for a while as her pussy would contract around me everytime she tensed up. Unless she could relax, this was not going to be good for her.

So I began kissing her again. Deep, wet, sensual kisses. They were soothing to her. She settled down. I could feel her juices flow again. Soon she was able to take all of me. I slipped totally inside of her slick walls. Her hips began to move with mine. Her hands no longer clinched the sheets. They were now caressing my back. The music of her sweet voice played loud tunes of "yea baby" and "oh my god."

I turned over on my back and put her on top so that she could be in control. She went slow and steady the rest of the way until she couldn't take anymore. She lifted off of my erection and layed next to me. She immediately started holding herself between her legs. I held her close and asked if she was alrite. "I'm ok," she wimpered. "I mean, I was takin' that shit, wasn't I baby?" she chuckled through the pain. I told her to take steaming hot baths and try to take it easy for the next day or so until the soreness went away. I hated to leave but we both knew I had to. I told her to rest and call me whenever she woke up.

I consider myself lucky to be the first to take her all the way. She's very aggressive, and a natural freak. I expect that after another break-in, that the sex will be mindblowing, considering it was pretty good the first time. I can't wait until she calls. I'm going crazy in this dorm wondering what's going to come out of her mouth. She could already talk dirty with the best of them. Now that she's had some, she's gonna be almost to much to handle.

-- eric a.

lose control (romey make u moist)

kissing on your neck, licking your earlobes
it's getting harder and harder for you to stay in your clothes
your not a tease, it's just that you don't know me well
don't want to lay down with me for fear that I'll kiss and tell
but the way that I kiss you and hold you and squeeze
makes you believe that i just want to please
my fingertips touch you and caress you with care
telling your body that when you wake I still will be there
your body is politic-ing, trying to convince your mind
"tell the thighs to open up and let him inside"
"you've already convinced me to let him in the house,
have a drink, make out, and take off our blouse"
your mind's losing control, how could this be?
is that your skirt sliding down to your feet?
you're taking my hand, leading me to your bed
ignoring those rational thoughts in your head
you'll take the gamble, play the game that they play
want to find out if Romey's as good as they say
it all begins with a kiss on the way to heaven
when Romey makes you moist in '2007


Monday, March 12, 2007

you're sick of the bullshit? (the reply)'s reply to
"i'm sick of all the bullshit"
by Curlycurvynervy
author of:
"summa this and summa that"

why must it be me who gets blamed?
when you met me, you knew I was untamed
that's what attracted you after all
that's why you answered when I called
you chose the challenge, admit it baby
thought you'd be the one to drive me crazy
but instead it was you who lost control
so many nites I gave you pleasures untold
now you're telling me your sick of the bullshit?
because you're upset that I won't commit?
don't get me wrong, pain is not what I want to cause you
but I won't shed a tear if I've lost you
the remedy is to remain patiently
if you really want my love wait for me


Sunday, March 11, 2007

stacy j.

dear ej,

I went over there because i had to know if I was over him. I had to know if I had him out of my system. Of course I had to make it look innocent, as if I had a legitimate agenda. So I told him about a new web-based business that I'm starting and that I wanted to present him an offer to invest. I knew he would try something. The question would be could I resist him when he did.

I was doing very well at first. I shrugged off his extremely long and deep opening hug. I ignored the very clever ways he found to touch me. First on my hand, then my wrist, then my shoulders; even around my waist. He was always slick as hell and he knew just how to push my buttons.

Then something happened. After I switched the subject back to my presentation for the tenth time, his cell phone rang. He excused himself over to the other side of the room so that I could only hear his conversation if I realy wanted to. Which I didn't, at first. Not until I noticed that he had lowered his voice into that trademark sexy baritone, and started showing his devlish grin. Admittedly, I started to get a little jealous, now that it seemed his seduction efforts were being applied to someone else.

I cleared my throat and waved his attention back over to me and he finally ended his phone call. when he came back over and sat on the sofa next to me, he was strangely on his best behavior. He left almost a full seat cushion between us. No more touching, no innuendo, no funny business. I was blown.

I could hardly consentrate from that point on. Curiosity got the best of me. Who the hell was that on the phone? Was she so hot that a call from her could take his mind off of me and I'm right here in his face? My mission went from playin hard to get, to seek and destroy. We had history. He knew what spots to hit when it came to me, but I knew how to turn him on just as well.

I started slowly at first, sliding over closer to him as I spoke, holding documents over to him so that I could bring my face over to his as we read. You could feel the heat rise between us. But he was still holding out. Then I would turn my back to him and bend over to get papers out of my briefcase. He was a sucker for my juicy ass. Then I pulled out the final carrot. I bent over toward him so that he could see straight down into the cleavage of my low-cut blouse as I read some points of my business plan. He is a breast man most of all, and my 'd' cups were the first thing he noticed on me when we met.

Next thing I know I felt his wet tounge slowly trace my ear. It sent a shockwave down my spine and I froze. He did it again and I lost control. Everything after that is a blur.

I remember just bits and pieces. I remember jamming my tounge down his throat, then jamming his dick down mine. I remember my skirt falling off somehow and me climbin up onto the sofa and sitting my crotch onto his face. I remember cumming after a few minutes of the best "head" I've had in 6 months. I remember dropping it down and riding him like a fugitiv e cowgirl trying to escape from the sherriff. I remember cumming again. I remember him liftin g me up and reversing the cowgirl and me cumming again. I remember bending over holding onto the coffee table and him "styling" me from behind. I remember cumming... again. I remember wondering if his cum still tasted sweet. I remember confirming that it still does.

I went over there because I wanted to know if I had him out of my system. I left there glad that I don't.

-- stacy j.

so warm (the wait is over)

spending time with you, there's no place I'd rather be
just breathing in the same air as you brings satisfaction to me
but looking in your eyes, you're seeking something more
you pull me close to tell me what it is you're longing for
outside it's so warm

we go inside to find, there's no one else around
we're all alone, no one to possibly hear a sound
you lead me through the door, the time has come i suppose
you run your fingers through my hair, and my eyes begin to close
your room is so warm

your fingers slide down to my neck, and pull my lipz to yours
I was so very patient with you, now the rain's about to pour
I remove your blouse to reveal the treasures concealed within
Shockwaves of eroticism run through you as I touch your sexy skin
your body is so warm

you push me onto your bed, as your aggressiveness takes command
kissing my neck and my chest, you cause my manhood to expand
it turnz you on more and more with every inch that I grow
you give me the sexiest look and then you slide below
your mouth is so warm

it's time for me to see what's alluded me for all this time
unbutton, unzip, unhook, slide down, let Romey claim what's mine
I let you start the show, now it's time that you discover
why it feels so good, why I do all that I do, and why you'll never desire another
inside you it's so warm


Thursday, March 8, 2007

david e. (part 1)

dear ej,

Not long ago I thought my life was pretty much over. When Natalie left, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. It was all so sudden. She had decided to go away to college and not take our relationship with her. This was her chance to meet new people, experience different things, and see what else is out there. Sounds like sumthing a guy would typically say to a girl.

When she broke it off I was shocked and devistated. I used to do everything I could to make her happy. I'd take her shopping, and I kept her hair and nails done. I bought her cell phones and payed the bill. I even taught her how to drive so she could borrow the car my parents bought for me. We were damn near inseparable. Then she dropped that bomb on me. Afterward, I wouldn't go out. I wouldn't talk to my friends. I cried like a fucking baby for the first week. I felt like all I had was gone. I was empty inside. I was incomplete without her.

But after a while it hit me that life has to go on despite how much pain you're in. College wasn't in my plans. My grades were not good enough to get me a scholarship. I couldn't gather much grant money. And I decided not to borrow thousands in student loans that would put my family in more debt. I thought it best to stay home and continue to dj.

Time went on and I tried to forget about her by working my ass off doing parties, putting out mix tapes and networking. Soon I landed an internship at a radio station. Now I'm doing promotions. It's cool. I'm not rich and famous, but I get to pass out free t-shirts, cds and event tickets. I get to drive one of the stations hummer H2's. I get my voice heard on the radio a couple times a week. I even get groupies.

It's been about six months since Natalie went away. It still hurts when I think about her. She doesn't call. Probably because I cussed her out and told her not to. But even still, she should've known i said that out of anger. If she did call, though, I don't know what I'd say or do. But for now I'm ok. I'm doing well. And as long as she's not on my mind, I'm pretty close to being happy.

-- david e.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

my hands (happy ending)

my hands, rubbing you up and down, stroking all around;
no one else can make you moan these sounds

the oil is hot, your body is warm;
there's nothing but a sheet for you to adorn

relax, let me do all the loving and caring
there's just you and me with the moon just staring

your pleasure is my mission, your soul I so understand;
nothing can soothe you like the love from my hands

they spread the lube over your skin like a glazing
I feel you squirm with delight so amazing

as I complete this session, I'm pleasantly surprised
at the look of allure beaming from your eyes

all of the care and love I was spending
turned out to be the beginning of foreplay leading to a happy ending



you've got me feening; I'm scheming to get your love
it's not too much, can't get enough
constantly please u; I read u,
your body talks, tellin me just what to do
and there's no one else I'd rather give my love to
I'm addicted to you and only you


sharon g. (part 1)

dear ej,

I'm wearing lingerie, the smell of my perfume fills the room and I have a bottle of sparkling wine chilling. It's late at night. Too late to be planning on just talking; and I'm still not sure if I'm really gonna do this. I don't want to lead him on, but there are some unsettled issues rolling through my head.

Is tonight the night that I let him inside? I'm driving myself crazy wondering what's going to happen. Will we chill for a while? Or is he going to go straight for it?

He has a way of making me feel sexy and I like that. He knows what to say. He knows how to hold me, caress me, touch me. He has always been nice, so far.

But does he realy like and respect me? Or has this just been part of some plan to get the "drawls?" And if he does hit it, will he broadcast it to all his boys? Will he drop all the intimate details? Will he talk about how good the "head" was? Should I give him "head" at all?

Will he take his time? Will he search for the right buttons to hit and try to turn me on? Does he want to make love to me or fuck me? Will he bring protection or leave it up to me to have it? Is he going to "bust" in the condom or try to take it off and cum on me? On my ass? On my tits? In my mouth? On my face?

Is he going to try to make me cum or is he just thinking about himself?

Will he leave right afterward or stick around at least for a little while? And if he does leave will he call when he gets home? Or at least sometime tomorrow?

Maybe this is happening to fast. Maybe I should call him and tell him not to come over. Maybe I should make him take me to get something to eat first. Maybe I...

Oh shit... there's the doorbell...

-- sharon g.