Why?
Why me?
Why him?
Those deep pools of fire that burn into me every time we look into one another. That fire that fuels him through everything he does, the inner flames the lick behind those eyes. His eyes. For years I've stared into those eyes, and each time they take more of me into that inferno.
Why me? Why did I have to be the one those flames sought out to emblazon into oblivion? Of every living thing in this crazy world why did it have to be me?
I lie in bed countless nights seeing those burning eye behind the curtains of sleep. My mind is in constant motion of his every motion, the way he breathes in the thick of combat, the curve of his shell when he rests on the floor, the perfect line of muscles as he pushes his limits every day. I think about all of him, the grumble of his snores at night, the deepness of his voice when he speaks, the heat that rolls off him as we move over the city. I find everything about him powerful, strong, solid, just so...perfect. But his eyes, the very windows into his heart have left an eternal emblem on me.
Even now as I try to calm my own fire that threatens to burn me to ash, the fire of need, the flames of desire, a heat that with each passing day prove harder to snuff out. If only it were a candle I could easily light and extinguish at a whim, maybe then I wouldn't have to practice to hard to keep these thoughts at bay. I wear a painful mask of control only to fool those around me, I hide behind my teachings and art so they won't see through to the real me.
The me that lays here in my room surrounded my the scent of incense and passion, in the dark confines of my own domain I sink into the dark flames of my own passions. In the practiced images of my inner psyche his ghosting arms wrap around me guiding my hand lower down my body. The heat of him burning my carapace as the gruff breath steams past my neck, he calls my name in his graveled voice. The images of his powerful legs pinning my own to the bed beneath us, spreading them to expose me in the more shameful ways. Guiding my hand further down to dip between my open limbs, stroking my pocket with those rough hands using my own to heighten the pleasure. He strokes me again growling in my mind to pleasure myself, guiding my off hand to my sensitive tail and giving it the long firm strokes that drive me crazy. He watches me with those golden orbs humming his approval of the vile things I do to myself, roving his gaze over my bare flesh sending the fire to burn it with those hands. His hands cover mine and begin to pump me to completion with a rough passion I just know he'll have. The powerful muscles of his biceps clenching and easing as he pumps my hardened flesh send me to a euphoric high, the memory of his breathing clouded by the shameful sound of my own as I melt further into this heat.
The nights I spend alone trapped in these hot fantasies grow in numbers and each night I want to let the fires of lust burn me until the white lava spills from my body over and over. I want to end this nightmare, the torment I put myself through day after day hiding the black spot on my honor as his brother, his leader, his friend. But I can't stop, the fire has spread too far, I can't put it out, so once again as we return from the city above I bar myself in my sanctuary under the pretense of meditation to indulge in this flaming
Affliction.
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9 years, 3 months ago
12 Jan 2015 17:04 CET
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