The storm front that moved in Friday morning is heaping its load on us this morning. I awoke in the dark hours ago to pounding rain and the sound of the trees being whipped about like the arms of a tantrum. It’s been raining for hours upon hours.
I took this photo of Faisal and me last weekend, after a long, hot shower. The night before The Neighbor had worked his magic on me with both his words and his giant cock. I felt so good, he’d said, I was so hot and wet and tight.
Whispered, filthy words landing on my person like little kisses.
Faisal keeps it real, though. He doesn’t see the powerful magic between us. He sees Hy, the woman who feeds him and provides broad places to rest at opportune times, and The Neighbor, the man who plays with him endlessly and who gives him a long scratch before he disappears each night.
From Faisal’s perspective, we’re just two halves of a whole, nothing special. We just happen to rub his petal-soft ears and fill his food bowl. And then moan and grind and pump and cry a lot with our clothes off. Faisal has it about right.