The Locus of Chaos

There’s this one prominent vein that bulges along the side of his pulsating cock that I love to run my tongue along. His cock, so hardened yet so vulnerable and fragile; it’s the vulnerability contrasted with the solidity that makes me beside myself! That’s the beauty of the penis, the beauty of manhood. Bundles of nerves instantly bristle just recalling the feeling, texture, and image of it raising up, growing larger in my mouth. My chest surges with excitement, and any awareness of my surroundings and sense of self is lost in undulations of pleasure. I place one hand between my thighs, one finger making circles around the already slippery opening which aches so fiercely, aching to swallow him whole. I start rubbing more vigorously, circling my hips wider, gently tightening my other hand on the shaft and jerking it faster. I feel the warm tip hitting the roof of my mouth, so I exhale slowly and push it further. I feel the warm tip hitting the back of my throat, hitting a point of resi...

For as long as I can remember, I have always adored and gravitated towards women. In true Freudian fashion, my earliest memories involve women’s breasts and the soft curvature of their hips and ass. Standing just below most adults’ waistlines — likely at around age four — I observed the way women’s hips swayed as they walked and how perfectly or imperfectly their fat was distributed in the usual places. I watched curiously, forming judgments, adding data to my little inner dialogue. A year later, I announced with conviction to my parents that I would “only marry a girl” when I grew up. The feelings of romance and desire for the opposite sex was naturally foreign to me at that time, and the possibility that I would ever choose to pair up with a male seemed ludicrous to me. Why would I? Boys in my kindergarten class were far meaner, louder, and more annoying than most of the girls; they made fun of me when I did cartwheels that revealed my brightly-colored underwear, or pointed when I h...

       A dear friend of mine who irrevocably changed the trajectory of my life died tragically nearly three months ago, and I’ve been privately spiraling ever since. He was — on an individual level — more valuable and brilliant than 99.99% of humanity to be completely honest, and I should probably be shy about saying that, but it’s just the truth. He was one of the only men I’ve ever truly loved and will ever love again. His life was so strange, so horrifying, yet speckled with many moments of beauty and clarity that cannot be overshadowed, despite the immensity of his illness. I’m now notably more disgusted by the world and humanity than I was before, but he fought so hard to be here, to be in the world, so I feel uniquely responsible to embrace my place in it regardless.       They couldn’t contend with your brutal reality when you were here, but one day soon they will have the research and language and mass social awareness to do so effectively...