He might jump off. Shit! I wish I had seen it before — in real life — and not only in movies. I wish I had someone beside me — someone who could respond spontaneously, unlike me, who over analyzes every possibility just to avoid getting involved, fearing he might have to take responsibility for how things turn out. Setting aside myself, I see events from far away — from someone else’s eyes, from someone else’s perspective. It’s a disease. Thinking on someone’s behalf is a disease. Sometimes, after intimate sexual activity, I ponder upon the woman’s expectations of me. Then, the pleasurable moment turns into a pang of guilt that enslaves my indifferent mind. Is this behaviour just to neutralize the pleasure I get after ejaculation? Is it normal? Am I normal? Perhaps. I remember the last time I felt that I hurt someone. One last stroke. I pulled out and quickly laid it across her abdomen. I pressed my groin as hard as possible against her body until my ankles weakened and my body was fil...
i am redhya. here i spew out disorder birthed by my restless neurons. you may or may not like what you read. either way, i urge you to do it. moreover, you may comment what you think so that i understand my writings from your perspectives. But a word of warning - SURRENDER yourself before you begin; otherwise, these are merely some words taking their last breaths and it's impossible to resuscitate them now.