tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70176459881143942762012-01-05T03:26:39.722-08:00Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.comBlogger3411100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-48020988081256094052011-12-12T00:52:00.000-08:002011-12-12T00:52:37.901-08:00

    It’s natural for relationships to change.  Times.  Circumstances.  Needs.  There are so many factors that’ll cause the shape of love to bend and twist.  “Are you sure?”  Looking into her eyes, I can see that she’s serious.  We have certainly reached a turning point. Her eyes read honest, as she answered, “Yes. I think it’s a good idea.” Getting on her nerves, I squeal, "For real?" "

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-53240757139113035082011-11-26T22:16:00.001-08:002011-11-26T23:10:45.192-08:00

     I've been tucking it into my pocket.  Nice.  Neat.  In a cute envelope.  Each and every time something stupid comes out of your mouth, I've been gently filing it into the abyss behind my left lapel.  My thoughts and emotional impulses are folded two or three times to fit perfectly... To fit nicely... To fit neatly...      Aren't I a saint?  Aren't I an alchemist?  For converting bullshit

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-50197068595039987882011-11-23T21:22:00.001-08:002011-11-23T22:24:25.288-08:00

     LOGO's new television series "Bad Sex" has garnered by attention.  The show features a sex therapist's work as he helps people with dysfunctional sexual issues.  Each episode focuses on a single client as (s)he participates in group and individual therapy.  I found the first two episodes to be nothing short of thought provoking.  Peeling back the layers of their sexual behaviors, the sex

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-77683379681527022002011-11-12T23:30:00.001-08:002011-11-13T02:24:30.370-08:00

     It's interesting, what can be conjured from a lover during a scene.  Bending.  Striking.  Digging.  An adult can dissolve into a crying child.  A human being can transform into an animal.  A body, of flesh and blood, can open its gates and become the ocean. It was a Friday morning... She surprised me...      Placing the first suction cup against her back, I turned the knob.  She

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-34329903493102135172011-10-28T22:55:00.000-07:002011-10-28T22:56:17.828-07:00

Everyone's so quick to diagnose. Everyone's so quick to prescribe a treatment.      I'm waiting for an opportunity to tell my story.  Before the scab... Before the scar tissue... Before the blemish...  No one has ever asked me what happened in the first place.  Before the broken skin... Before the spilled blood... Before the ambulance ride...      It's been a very difficult story to keep to

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-43479062666998974592011-10-15T01:39:00.000-07:002011-10-15T01:53:36.878-07:00

What is this, that drives me out on his limb?      At some point, "I love you" didn't do it for me anymore.  No matter how I said it: in the heights of passion or in the depth of emotion, It didn't completely translate how I felt.  No matter how much I said it: the rattling of a dated declaration didn't do my feelings justice.  "Love" was too shallow of a term to

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-35958193644403077972011-10-11T20:07:00.000-07:002011-10-11T20:07:30.000-07:00

"Elsewhere a villain in born.  He will take your power...  ...up his ass.  ...down his throat.  Now, he has stolen mine: I lost focus.  I must find him and take his load." - Black Spark        I kept nodding off at work today.  So damn tired from staying up all night masturbating.  Beautiful Boys.  Dusty Basements.  Lasers.  Lust.  Abandoned Dance Floors.  I couldn't stop

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-64310850812553237742011-10-06T21:34:00.000-07:002011-10-06T21:35:27.463-07:00

     Weeks later, I am still processing my time at the Folsom Street Fair this year.  What is it about Folsom that makes me feel like I'm in my element?  Of which spirits did I fellowship?  I think I may have tasted a morsel of something significant.  Something clicked.  I feel compelled to pursue this harmony, discovering what it means for my life's purpose.      Whether it was a cold breeze

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-86720896367923359352011-10-02T22:15:00.000-07:002011-10-03T00:00:50.770-07:00

     If I had to transcribe our threesome, I’d start with me and him naked.  On all fours.  Overlapping on the motel room’s floor, we were in unison.  With her legs wrapped around my neck, her heels sat on my back as he serviced her feet.  Slurping.  Moaning.  Flicking my tongue over her clitoris, I can feel his warm mouth alternating between her feet and my back.  Taking turns licking and

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-28593511948689921082011-09-29T16:32:00.000-07:002011-10-02T22:17:48.409-07:00

     Folsom is more than a street this weekend.  What typically is driven on, somehow drives everything in a ten-mile radius and beyond.  Inspiring.  Intoxicating.  Influencing.  The Spirit of Folsom fills me with an infectious excitement.  We’re all excited.      In a crowded bar.  In a buzzing social scene.  Cigarettes.  Booze.  Dancing.  This is how we wanted to meet him.  If he turned out

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-1015027906381234002011-09-27T02:23:00.000-07:002011-10-02T22:16:49.149-07:00

     Its one a.m. and its already "tomorrow".  I am dreading the thought of returning to the office.  The thought makes me cry.  The thought makes me turn this bottle of Fernet Branca upside down against my face.  The thought makes me reach out to random strangers, "Am I crazy?"  Yes.  I am not ready for "tomorrow". I don't want this moment to end... Although, its already over... The

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-46398073302300479352011-09-17T20:09:00.000-07:002011-09-17T20:11:28.626-07:00

He wants it so gentle...so soft... I have to give it a little hard. He wants it so smooth...so slick... I take this opportunity to scrape and prick.      I don't think I'm a sadist.  But, I do like the way his body alternates between relaxation and tension.  Bathing him in extravagance with sudden splashes of course boar bristles, he's so confused.  Although I'm barely touching him, he can

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-77882159394276982562011-09-14T19:42:00.000-07:002011-09-14T19:42:18.900-07:00

     Mein liebling likes the brush.  He wants it head to toe... ear to ear... cheek to cheek.  He wants me to take my time and stroke every inch of his skin.  Hunching his back as I slide up his calf, I continue towards his ass.  Feeling his voice vibrate through the mattress, I spend extra time caressing his naked backside.  Sliding across his ribs, he moans aloud as I briefly pass his nipples

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-5895964189043534602011-09-13T23:05:00.000-07:002011-09-13T23:05:24.373-07:00

"He's known me all those years...and, suddenly, I'm no-good just because I love the horses?"      First, I'd like to acknowledge that "Zoo" is a beautifully made film.  The creative direction of this 'docu-film' came across as very artistic and emotive.  Even the script, while conveniently cryptic, was both poetic and confessional.  The beauty of "Zoo" is what left me feeling fucked up

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-10634834956928122072011-09-08T01:12:00.000-07:002011-09-08T01:12:38.075-07:00

     Sharp, prickly points traveling across my skin. Certain parts of me can endure while others....not so much.  I, honestly, can not explain the feelings that run through my body and mind.  The simultaneous hatred and appreciation.  The paradox of pleasure and torture.  Throwing tantrums while throwing my legs further apart.  How can I want something that's so annoying...so badly? I

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-15933592913712161332011-09-02T00:57:00.000-07:002011-09-03T23:27:13.077-07:00

     We have a game we like to play.      Sometimes, we play it because I've had a hard day at work.      Other times, we play 'Schlampe' because she's been very bad.      In either case, fun is had by all.      Men like me have certain...idiosyncrasies.  Random bullshit regular women wouldn't put up with.  I like my DVDs in alphabetical order... I like to wake up to an egg white omelet and

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-26081247202338238562011-08-31T23:26:00.000-07:002011-08-31T23:28:12.845-07:00

     Exploring the gulf between nearness and arrival.  Hairs stand on end.  Juices flow.  Almost touching, his body jumps at the mere anticipation of contact.  Erections swell.  Breaths thicken.  He can't stay quiet.  Its something about closing the space between my fingertips and his skin...  His instincts sets his skin on fire as phantom caresses crawl across his flesh. Remarkable.

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-81522995921189007342011-08-23T19:49:00.000-07:002011-08-30T21:03:00.002-07:00

We must've grown up together. The records you're spinning reminds me of the grown folks that stayed up past my bedtime.  Cigar smoke.  High-pitched wails.  Spades.  Funky bass lines.  Laughter.  Here we are, awake past midnight, playing the way grown folks play.  Drinking what grown folks drink.  Smoking what grown folks smoke.  We must've both walked in on Ma and Daddy...this looks

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-26986901780437513142011-08-03T22:30:00.000-07:002011-08-03T22:30:38.187-07:00

     The first stroke from his roller was followed by concern, "I don't know about this, bro.  Looks like shit...literally."  I had the idea of painting some walls in my bedroom a dark shade of brown.  I wanted a room that felt womb-like.  I wanted my future victims to feel swallowed alive.  Watching my friend spread a thin layer of brown paint across the eggshell wall, I also grew concerned

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-10019941623805487512011-08-01T23:15:00.000-07:002011-08-01T23:15:41.729-07:00

     Finally, legs that goes on forever...  Hips that sit upon lofty heights...  The short distance between his rib cage and pelvis.  Spider-like limbs inspiring minds to dangle from a web of fleshly thoughts.  "What is he?"  "Why the over-sized jeans?"  "Why the secret?"  Finally, a body like mine.      Finally, a black man disclosed.  Lengthy blackness that has nothing to do with his dick

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-28862699259935298022011-07-31T16:24:00.000-07:002011-08-03T21:58:46.285-07:00

Love is marinating in citrus. Love is bathing in hot water, seasoned with rosemary and mint. Love is throwing salt over your shoulders, liberally sprinkling some sugar and spice. Love is coating your body olive oil. Love is pre-setting the oven. Love is being cooked, burned even. Love is stewing in your juices. Love is keeping your tenderness. Love is being raised and fed for this moment.

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-25697855815534798942011-07-26T23:15:00.000-07:002011-07-26T23:15:12.486-07:00

           I wanted to write something clever.  Creating a metaphor that tied together chocolate and rhino horns...  Funerals and Orgasms...  Africa and this big man raining sweat from above me.  My memory couldn't quite capture the dual sensation of Don Cherry's trumpet in my ear and nine inches in my ass.  All I could do was sing along with the mourning women.      I wanted to correlate

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-33716402250435340452011-07-23T22:15:00.000-07:002011-07-23T22:15:37.725-07:00

     He loves to fuck bareback...however, in the event he ever bottoms, a condom is a must.  He's a daddy, knowing best...or, at least, better than you.  A very kinky man, he's into fisting, bondage and flogging...from the top.  He's a one-way street.      He loves having his cock sucked...but he's very sensitive to scents and tastes.  He's a sadist, causing pain, but never feeling

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-69408453319520356182011-07-17T23:48:00.000-07:002011-07-17T23:48:19.121-07:00

      "I can not believe this is happening between a man and woman."  This thought swells in my mind every time I'm with her.  My hard, black cock dangles from between my thighs.  At the same instance, her small white wrist does the same as her fist makes it that much deeper inside.  Heterosexuality is redefined for me with every thrust.  Masculinity and power becomes disassociated, as I keep

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-63289401252807808082011-06-28T00:45:00.000-07:002011-06-28T00:50:11.207-07:00

Photography by Angelito      I can't recall what I was dreaming about..something involving spears, penguins and Aretha Franklin.  The alarm clock failed at its function; more annoying that awakening.  However, I couldn't hit the snooze on his touch.  Firm and hungry, I woke up with his hands wrapped around my ankles.  My dreams of The Queen of Soul was interrupted by his tongue raking against

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-71433671930778480782011-06-23T22:33:00.000-07:002011-06-24T00:01:21.557-07:00

Peppermint OilSageSt. John's Wort      Those pretty eyes of his glare in my direction, "Are you casting a love spell on me?"  Swishing around the flavors of Fernet Branca, Alice Coltrane and every rumor he's heard about me, skepticism and arousal becomes the cocktail of the night.      Pouring him another shot, "What if I was? Would you stop?"  Taking the small glass from my hand, his head snaps

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-60293278558772017592011-06-21T22:59:00.000-07:002011-06-21T23:00:46.829-07:00

What happens to kink during the day? Does it retreat into the closet? Does it lose it charm?      There was a time when I was strictly anonymous.  Fronted by an avatar, I enjoyed a great deal of creative freedom.  I had no fear of being found out.  My voice translated to readers much clearer with the omission of personal details.  At a time in my life where I felt so stifled, repressed and

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-24353215739463196912011-06-16T01:20:00.000-07:002011-06-16T01:26:08.230-07:00

       I have lovers who are sex workers.  Occasionally, they are contacted by clients with certain disabilities and/or deformities. Searching for an intimate, sexual experience, they desire to be pleasured by someone who sees beyond their disabilities and/or deformities.  I moment to let their inhibitions go without judgement.  This brand of acceptance is very scarce in this world.       In a

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-17334524980965187992011-06-14T13:46:00.000-07:002011-06-14T13:46:51.706-07:00

     Every year around my birthday, I sink into depression as I take inventory of my life.  Where have I been?  Where am I going?  The answer that followed whenever they asked a nine-year-old Forbidden Light, "What do you want to be when your grow up?"  I came out of my psychological cave with a great deal of gratitude.  I must say, I am rather content with my life. This is new for me.     

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-77835207751116860762011-06-03T23:34:00.000-07:002011-06-03T23:34:04.577-07:00

     I lost my balance but did not fall.  Tipping over, I remain upright.  He has me.  Wrapping my limbs around him, my legs are impressed by the firm torso bearing my weight.  The ground become irrelevant.  Falling became folklore.  Weightless.  Suspended.  Damn, his hand feels good holding my ass up. His palms are the perfect platform.      Kissing him.  Sucking his neck.  Fondling the big,

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-23140729933912055582011-05-31T20:24:00.000-07:002011-06-01T00:01:37.603-07:00

     The thought crossed my mind, “Hmmm, that’s strange.”  The computer lab at my job was locked and the blinds were closed.  Completely shutdown.  A couple of hours ago, I had given a young man access to our business center.  Seeing that the lights were off, a few scenarios started to sprout from my creative mind.  (1) We’ve been had and our computers and printers were stolen.  (2) He had some

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-37081611380839726872011-05-29T22:50:00.000-07:002011-05-29T22:50:38.738-07:00

1 Cucumber1 Mango 1 Cantaloupe2 KiwiMint + CilantroHoneyOlive Oil3 Shots of Rum       I am hurled in to a trance.  Toes.  Soles.  Heels.  The objects of my fixation erased everything above her ankles.  If it weren't for her giggles filling the air, I would've forgot she was there.  Her feet, coated in olive oil, honey and mint leaves captured my attention.  I just want to consume.  Sink my teeth

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-70101866719046962582011-05-29T21:44:00.000-07:002011-05-29T21:44:58.042-07:00

A technological threesome      The warmth of my hands/ the reliability of its motion.  The sensual improvisations of our moans/ the saw-toothed buzz of the running motor. The smile spreading across your face/ the settings switching from low to max power. What is this device?      Numbing, yet introducing new sensations.  Freezing our jaws open, yet frying my circuits. Little did I know, I'd still

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-85486551071499680762011-05-26T20:36:00.000-07:002011-05-27T09:19:13.571-07:00

     To commemorate our special day, she purchased a bottle of Amaro Averna.  Italian.  Thick.  Sweet.  64% Proof.  Toasting 365 days of love, labor and evolution, the syrupy digestive coats my mouth, filling my palette with touches of fruit and herbs.  I was instantly warmed.     We found ourselves nude, listening to Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue", dancing to his nocturnal tempo.  Kissing. 

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-17358615708591756132011-05-26T18:40:00.000-07:002011-05-26T18:40:06.248-07:00

       One hundred and forty-four thousand spirits beaming into Heaven boils down to that handful of people I've been wanting to fuck.  For so long, I wanted to see their flesh unclothed.  My tongue longs to taste the salt of his seed...sugar from her lips and walls.  The weight of these mysteries on my mind tether me to this Earth...too heavy for the Heavenbound to be raptured.      The Sea of

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-65744856811927155582011-05-14T22:53:00.000-07:002011-05-14T22:55:00.110-07:00

     The cute reading glasses.  The pearl-adorned kurta.  The brown curls mangled by a good afternoon nap.  I miss your hazel gaze greeting me as I return home from work.  Working on your laptop.  Sipping on a glass of Orangina.  The light filling your face upon my arrival gave me a second wind.  The beverage... The laptop... The glasses... The kurta...soon found themselves on the floor as did

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-85868977684523267662011-05-10T01:30:00.000-07:002011-05-10T01:36:07.197-07:00

     My response was unexpected.  Sitting in the front row of an performance of experimental music.  I was totally captivated by the drummer, 1/3 of the trio.  The piano and saxophone were muted by my desire for the percussionist.  His face tightened with intensity, he played with so much tension.  His focus appeared to be painfully sharp.  Out of nowhere, I wanted nothing more than to make him

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-72904943517826876062011-05-05T23:02:00.000-07:002011-05-05T23:02:53.665-07:00

     Have you ever ingested so much pornography your stomach felt full?  I have recently inherited a near-comprehensive library of vintage hardcore gay magazines...and getting through it have become my second job.  Its a labor of love.  Everyday, I devote a little time to inspecting and organizing every image.      Flipping through the collection of "Knights of the Night", an adults-only

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-89180360379832101532011-04-29T20:47:00.000-07:002011-04-30T02:48:05.646-07:00

  Scene I Aisle 13: Produce Section   Looking for baby spinach and zucchini, an Indian couple catches my eye.  The wife is beautiful.  Long, lustrous hair pouring down her back.  Exotic, intricate tapestries adorning her gorgeous figure.  Looking at her rogue-stained lips, I couldn’t help but wonder, “I wonder if she tasted my flavor on his kiss?”  A week prior, while she was at the salon, her

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-22675450711958292142011-04-24T19:42:00.000-07:002011-04-24T21:07:27.731-07:00

I suck the cock of strangers...My only sustenance comes from anonymous semen...I can not wait until my next meal. Am I still human? Love does not interest me...I want to be objectified and used...I sharpen my mind and harden my body to become a better tool. Am I still human? I envy porcelain...Vomit.  Piss.  Shit.All of it I've tasted and it pains me to see it wasted. Am I still human? I dream

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-48584844507315119202011-04-21T23:17:00.000-07:002011-04-21T23:17:17.950-07:00

     Flesh made from blood and ghosts, hair stolen from golden stallions.  Mama told me about them.  I was warned to stay away, but I can help but lean closer.  I want to see them....  smell them... taste their language as it echoes through the depths of our homeland.     In spite of their proud, upright stance, the air reeks of their pungent fear.  A second thought follows every step of

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-5791988853147111192011-04-20T17:39:00.000-07:002011-04-20T17:39:23.304-07:00

      Her back arches, sending her tail into the air.  Her ankles latches onto my legs as she leans her hip closer to mine.  The slapping of our skin fills the air with echoes...  My fingers digging into her ass fills her white cheeks with blushes of red...  The rhythm drives me relentless.      Pounding her harder and harder, the head of cock punches the very end of her cunt.  Her tail: still

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-6303986360704517832011-04-20T15:02:00.000-07:002011-04-20T15:02:08.494-07:00

      Bound in rope.  Wrapped in his big, strong arms.  Concentrating, so I wouldn't forget to breath, I looked down at my swaying erection. If my arms weren't tied behind my back...  If he hadn't commanded me to not move "a fucking muscle"... I would've touch myself.  Or, at least, sent some spit down to cool myself off.     His voice whispers in my ear, "Look in the mirror, Beloved."  (I love

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-30167615176720206262011-04-17T18:51:00.000-07:002011-04-17T18:54:29.197-07:00

You won't be able to sit next to the phone anymore, waiting for it to ring.You'd have to spend the extra money on a long distance plan, because you'll be making the phone calls. You won't be able to leave your wallet at home, confident you'll be fed.You'd have to schedule your dates on pay day, because dinner will be on you. You won't be able to conceal your blemishes with foundation, looking

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-15733604271195485472011-04-16T21:52:00.000-07:002011-04-16T21:52:06.000-07:00

  Scene I:The Locker Room      He appears to be such a cocky asshole, to undress himself while looking into the mirror.  Removing his clothing.  Flexing his muscles.  After his workout, he'd return the same mirror, reversing his performance.  Stripping from his workout attire, flexing and returning to his clothing.  So narcissistic.  So pretentious. Scene II:The Front      He isn't watching

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-46703685644923667452011-04-15T22:11:00.000-07:002011-04-24T21:08:33.434-07:00

     One my way to lunch, I checked my mailbox. “What do we have here?” Two weeks later, my copy of “Hogg” was finally delivered. Pleasant surprise. Taking the package with me, I thought I’d thumb through a few pages before returning to work. To get all of the introductions and character development out of the way. The cover art was obscurely designed, no one would have a clue about the

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-70602943829946008962011-04-12T21:29:00.000-07:002011-04-24T21:07:59.916-07:00

      I am currently reading "Hogg" by Samuel R Delany.  Nuff said.  This novel has gone down in history as one of the most unpublishable works of literature.  Repugnant.  Grotesque.  Violating.  It is a slow and detailed tour of the profane.  However, what makes this novel disturbing isn't the subject matter, but the readers' response. Allow me to rephrase:My response to "Hogg" disturbs me.

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-74755387931242752702011-04-11T20:34:00.000-07:002011-04-11T20:34:17.592-07:00

Blame the three thousand miles between us...      Every step he takes closer to my hotel door sends more blood to my already painfully erect dick.  Throbbing with every thought, my slacks develop a wet spot at the crotch of my pants.  I can hear your smooth New York accent in my ear...  I can remember verbatim all of your erotic threats...  Damn, I can't wait to introduce your scent to my

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-82056669662710281122011-04-09T22:57:00.000-07:002011-04-09T22:57:03.088-07:00

     Blame Japan.  It is getting extraordinary hot in California!  Temperature’s climbing… Sweat’s gathering around my neck and brow…   After a week of wind chill and reoccurring rainstorms, we abruptly exchanged our umbrellas for air conditioning.  My work shirts are developing sweat stains… My girlfriend’s complaining…  But, I love this kind of weather.      I love the saltiness of her kiss as

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-60464730013311388512011-04-08T02:22:00.000-07:002011-04-08T02:22:13.245-07:00

     I've always had a problem with the saying, "All that glitters is not gold."  My mind always find more truth in the reverse, "All gold doesn't glitter."  The longer I live.... The more people I encounter... The more experience I get under my belt... I am really learning that the purest gold actually looks gritty to the naked eye.     Typically, this piece of wisdom is used in reference of

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-16898719129899629262011-04-08T01:13:00.000-07:002011-04-08T01:13:32.539-07:00

      I have a challenge for you.  Are you up for it?  I hope that your stamina allows you to sustain the distance. It’s my wish that you endure.  My challenge for you: love me…without “loving” me.  Are capable of running a marathon without steps or strides?  Swim the seas without a single stroke?       Let your hands itch with latent action.  Let your body become impregnated without the

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-42890471185233041892011-04-04T22:31:00.000-07:002011-04-04T22:31:47.528-07:00

7:00 a.m.1/2 liter of Syntha-6 protein shakewith almond milk 12:00 p.m.Weight training 1:00 p.m.Kale salad with cantaloupe and chicken breast 6:00 p.m.Another helping of Syntha-6and a egg white and spinach omelette 10:00 p.m.Pass out in a hunger-induced slumber.      There was a time when I thought Exterface's "Picnic Warriors" set was absolutely disgusting.  Big Macs.  Analingus.  French Fries

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-73804029287361209522011-03-31T02:30:00.000-07:002011-04-13T14:40:35.747-07:00

Divided by glare, I'm lost in the shine. Splendor and oil slices me in half.To be amputated by light......is to have an encounter with God.      The prefix 'photo' means light and 'apotemnophilia' is the clinical term for those whom desire to be amputated.  This fabricated term seems appropriate for my recent photographic experiment.  In the tradition of my favorite photographer, Gonzalo

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-38853093570109466072011-03-19T03:07:00.000-07:002011-03-19T03:07:31.558-07:00

With sex on my breath, I pray to The Holy Spirit.I write God-breathed psalms with the scent of ass under my fingernails.I dress myself in the finest linen Without rinsing the fluids from my flesh. I'm multi-dimensionaland it's okay.

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-70942892690407253462011-03-19T02:34:00.000-07:002011-03-19T02:36:33.283-07:00

     While being a conscious being, I am still a mystery to myself.  There are facets of my nature that language fail to describe.  Certain features will never be translate into the physical world.  My hands aren't designed to build the monuments lodged in my head.  My lips are unable to pronounce the secrets of my soul.  The more I learn about myself, the more I discover that the depth of

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-15647325629299786992011-03-16T01:34:00.000-07:002011-03-16T01:34:23.974-07:00

     The two miles between my home and the lake was more challenging than I expected.  Shoulders burning...  Shoes betraying every step...  Constantly switch arms to give the other a break.  Tonight was the night I took custody of Aaron and I was compelled to capture him. Aaron, Chandra Garsson's first sculpture,is more than just a piece heavy with symbols,but a symbol of heaviness.      A

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-4238934645969630522011-03-14T23:35:00.000-07:002011-03-14T23:36:11.194-07:00

     I am going to pay for this in the morning.  Spooning... Sucking... Kissing on his neck...  I love the traditional, woodsy scent of his cologne lifting from behind his ear.  Holding him from behind, I am embracing and impaling him.  This sweet moment has lasted well past 2 a.m. I'm already brainstorming plausible excuses for my tardiness.      His fingertips are performing a very subtle

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-24584941348107704372011-03-09T00:42:00.000-08:002011-03-09T00:42:41.878-08:00

"Get it up there, boy!""C'mon! Push that shit up!""One more fuckin' to go! Don't be a pussy, dude!"(((SLAP!)))      Staring into the mirror, I almost dropped a 40 lbs dumbbell on my foot.  I was already distracted by watching the reflection of these studs bench press, they were clearly on the road to perfection.  Watching one guy struggle and grunt as the other shouted with a prison yard's

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-38596619705315791972011-03-06T00:21:00.000-08:002011-03-06T00:21:07.082-08:00

     We love seeing him like this.  His gentle, blue eyes weary from the battery.  His slender, nearly nude body hanging exhausted on a crucifix.  Christ's malnourished belly revealing the abdominal muscles rippling beneath the bruises and scars.  Lo and behold, The Son of God! There is a soft spot in our collective hearts for masochistic gods.      Shiva smiles so sweetly.  Pinched between the

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-32105861640061362862011-03-05T22:50:00.000-08:002011-03-05T22:50:53.266-08:00

Find me another woman like her and I'll become a polytheist.Teach me how to duplicate this moment and I'll be no Earthly good. I firmly believe there will never be another.      My spine curls under her weight, pointing my ass towards the ceiling.  Her fingers, digging deep into hamstrings, forces my legs even further apart.  I am turned into a trough.  Hissing...  Whimpering...  I grip my ankles

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-85491745810224711222011-03-03T23:42:00.000-08:002011-03-03T23:42:48.873-08:00

  What do you do when the plastic feels more lifeless than usual?      Stretched to the limit by inanimate, soulless objects, I‘ll do anything for a dose of living flesh.  There is little consolation when your company can’t relate to you.  What do you do when the plastic feels colder than usual?  I'm craving the warmth of body heat more and more.    Conundrum:I feel more natural stuffed than

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-4141639160918918152011-03-03T22:58:00.000-08:002011-05-29T17:42:56.425-07:00

I've acquired a sculpturecrafted by the genius hands ofChandra Garsson      Masks have always interested me.  Masquerade Balls.  Halloween Costumes.  Bank Robberies.  A person reveals more about themselves with their selected masks, than by exposing the face given to them at birth.  A face of flesh and blood indicates where a person origin... A mask indicates where a person desires...    

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-65565667113715580132011-02-26T00:09:00.000-08:002011-02-26T00:09:02.135-08:00

     Squeezing into them, I felt oddly at home.  Tiny.  Delicate red lace.  Pretty, yellow bows adorning the trim.   They fit my ass like a glove.  The hissing coming from My Moon tells me that they look as good as they feel.  I like being sweet to her sight.  I like hiking up my tail, pacing to her delight.     How absurd?  A 6' 3", 188 lbs black man in a pair of panties made for

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-42176192582093717962011-02-24T20:16:00.000-08:002011-06-07T22:40:13.765-07:00

  “(This book) was created with the intention that you would use it as a tool to conjure queer realities.” “The text is alive and brought to life through your reading.” “Your life, therefore, adds flesh to the word as you take up these spells and use them to conjure.” - Dr. Herukhuti ‘Conjuring Black Funk’ (pg. vi-vii)      We open wide and become filled just the same.  We carefully knit a face

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-38120539637246371062011-02-12T00:21:00.000-08:002011-05-29T17:43:25.772-07:00

     (1) TICKLEBEAR, how many times have you taken me from the ledge?  You have no idea how sustaining your support has been for me.  I can not thank you enough for the many times you've commented and inquired and shared.  We must do coffee one day!  (And we must work on your memoirs!)      I try my best to create a cohesive and slick blog.  It has been my intention to create continuity between

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-38305122905799077992011-02-07T01:43:00.000-08:002011-02-07T01:43:23.814-08:00

     I've been staring at this door for hours.  Waiting.  Whining.  Wagging.  I can't wait for your to come home.  When you turn that doorknob, I want to be first thing you see.      Overwhelming Joy!  The door opens!  I can't keep my paws off of you!  I can't lick you enough!  I can't catch my breath...so....excited...damn.      "You're such a good boy! Yes, you are!" Your voice delivers

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-30851906983990256142011-02-06T22:53:00.000-08:002011-02-06T23:55:49.277-08:00

       As long as I had The Sun to light the pages, I've walked with this book.  After reading each topic, I'd close the book and take note: the world has slightly changed.  After completing Dr. Herukhuti's "Conjuring Black Funk", I've closed the book and took note: I have drastically changed.  I am enthusiastic.  I am discerning.  I feel my passion for erotic evolution re-ignited. "I was born

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-86235909714362403512011-02-05T01:25:00.000-08:002011-02-05T01:25:25.883-08:00

     I used to be a romantic.  Singing love songs.  Home-cooking meals.  Memorizing anniversaries.  Remembering small details.  I used to love making people feel special.  It was important to me that people felt loved and cared for.  In a cold, unyielding world; I wanted my friends and family to have space for fantasies and fairy tales.  This personal philosophy is past tense.     I am now very

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-7326460694142512102011-02-04T19:56:00.000-08:002011-02-11T23:18:44.431-08:00

     Black. Thick. Beautiful. Heterosexual. I would’ve never guess a woman like her would be into a guy like me. Bisexual. Polyamorous. Black. But she actually read my “Journals of an Intelsexual” and continued to like me. I was floored. In a single sentence, “WOW, Your blog is amazing,” she shattered my every expectation.      Typically, when I garner the attention of women like her,

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-65614550548504317962011-02-02T02:11:00.000-08:002011-02-02T02:11:01.584-08:00

     We had the studio to ourselves.  Spacious.  Warm.  Our voices lightly echoed as we conversed.  Soon, he found his slender waist wrapped in my arms.  Soon, I found my hair between his fingers.  The clasp to his trousers were relieved.  My shirt slid up my torso and over my head.  Soon, we found each other nude.     Guided only by the chords of our chemistry, we danced to silence.  Slow. 

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-78336242522703399612011-01-29T21:55:00.000-08:002011-01-29T21:55:54.150-08:00

I have the task of recording life.  Scribbling while living.  Jotting.  Transcribing.  Taking in everything I can…so much gets lost in translation.  So many details dribble from my lips.  So many messages drip from my chin.  Split between participating and observing, I sometimes get lost… Some experiences elude me and I’m left asking, “What just happened?”  My senses: overwhelmed.  My

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-29648514352411387132011-01-28T14:29:00.000-08:002011-01-28T14:29:37.860-08:00

     Pulling my hair, forcefully drawing my ear closer to his mouth, “Who the fuck do you think they’re gonna believe, huh?”  His snarl reeked of brandy, “Me, a decorated officer or a fucking nigger?”  On instinct, I spit a cocktail of saliva and brandy into his face.  Laughing as he wiped his face, “You done fucked up now!”      In a single motion, my face was thrown into the pillows and my

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-4666116040488716342011-01-28T02:12:00.000-08:002011-01-28T02:13:53.170-08:00

     Lately, I have been in these situations where I needed to fuck without making a sound.  Sex at ungodly hours, next to sleeping neighbors...  In consideration to roommates chilling in the next room...  Keeping a sexual secret...  I love and hate the result this kind of scenario produces.  I love the restraint, the bondage to silence.  I love finding alternatives to moaning and screaming,

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-49667807830938028282011-01-28T00:54:00.000-08:002011-01-28T00:54:18.708-08:00

     After plunging headfirst into the world of Sadomasochists and fetishists, I am realizing that everything doesn't have to be so hardcore.  Don't get me wrong, I still believe that pain and pleasure make wonderful companions.  I still enjoy the friction that comes with squeezing square pegs into round holes.  I am still very much so a fetishist.     I am learning that everything has its place

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-1217891686341473322011-01-25T22:20:00.000-08:002011-01-25T22:20:04.930-08:00

He's in the valley.This is the time to watch. Let him starve: what does he do to soothe the hunger pains?Let him sleep alone: what form does his desperate libido take?Let him cry: are his tears toxic?      We reveal a lot about ourselves in those moments spent in the valley.  Low.  Vulnerable.  Surviving.  In these moments, a man's integrity can be measured clearly.  Our strength pours out...

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-1209967813283275082011-01-24T22:48:00.000-08:002011-01-24T22:52:35.855-08:00

     Some blossoms bloom at night.  Subtly.  Slowly.  Deliberately.  Opening wider, the shade is perfumed with an exotic essence.  Spreading.  Yielding.  Peeling apart petals as slumber washes the shore of consciousness.  Something about the night ripens.  The shadows summons such sweetness to the surface.  The small hand of twelve compels knees to be apart....temperatures to rise...thirsts to

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-19991716088467787622011-01-22T01:46:00.000-08:002011-01-22T01:46:50.628-08:00

He's a delicate flower: fragile & sensitive.She's a tough cookie. He cries while watching movies.She fast-forwards the film, until it gets to the good part.They both press the pause button during nude scenes. She's walks into the room as if she owns the place.He's so bashful and cute. She has a thing for black leather.His bedroom is wall to wall lavender.They both can't live without chocolate.

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-70902480259569995822011-01-21T23:39:00.000-08:002011-01-22T00:31:32.944-08:00

     Despite its slight curve to the left, my dick gets great reviews from consumers.  In the right pair of pants, my ass has the potential to turn a few heads.  Furthermore, I enjoy the privilege that comes with being 6 foot, 3 inches.  But above all, my most complimented feature would be my "math".  I have sexy numbers.      Every once in awhile, I'll get a random call from Detroit.  Not

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-61057170983943387532011-01-18T22:13:00.000-08:002011-01-18T22:17:07.135-08:00

  Like a rainstorm brushing against desert sand...Like a beloved beverage cooling my parched pallette... Your naked skin against mine Like sunshine filling sheltered blossoms...Like fresh air filling my dusty lungs... Our limbs entwined      Do nothing more for me.  Remain effortless.  I just want two things: your every garment to adorn my bedroom floor and your naked flesh saturating mine. 

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-31296716538603867182011-01-07T21:40:00.000-08:002011-01-07T21:41:20.873-08:00

     I'm sitting in the bathtub.  Seven sticks of Jasmine incense fills the bathroom with blinding, suffocating smoke.  I've been looking forward to this all day.  Wrapping my lips around an upturned bottle of Hennessy, I followed that shot was a fist full of caffeine pills.  I took another gulp of Cognac to help me swallow the cluster of capsules. I wanted my heart to explode.      In an odd

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-25063660277641077842011-01-03T23:08:00.000-08:002011-01-03T23:08:56.611-08:00

Give it to me.Roll over, give me the underbelly...Turn your head, show off those ugly angles...Smile at me with those crooked teeth. Delay the dawn. Allow my eyes to adjust to the light of your shadow.Allow my fingertips to notice the rough patches in your flesh. I want hear it...Your growling stomach...The gurgling coming from your guts.... I want to smell it...Anoint your words with a

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-13476998534293936252011-01-02T23:08:00.000-08:002011-01-03T07:30:26.077-08:00

In the stillness of night, Desire dreams aloud,“Wouldn’t it be great to travel out east?” Doubt‘s discomfort survives dusk,“This time of year? The Sun would surely scorch us both.” Once upon a time, There were two brothers by the name of Desire & Doubt… Siamese twins conjoined by the head. Completely isolated by their connection, They were helplessly fused together by both flesh and

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-47187108666644348942010-12-29T00:14:00.000-08:002010-12-29T00:14:12.685-08:00

     Pulling my living leash, as if to drive my lip, jaws and throat.  Fistfuls steer my head in wicked directions.  Down.  Up.  Directing my eyes to make contact.  Down.  Up.  Down.  Down.  Down.  Until I choke.      Pulling my living reigns, as if to tame my wild thoughts.  My crown is turned against me.  Driving my head backward, my spine charges with electricity.  I'm tapped and plugged.

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-14246432448157143772010-12-20T22:30:00.000-08:002011-06-07T22:38:24.222-07:00

     Coming home from work, I could instantly feel it in the air. Something was wrong. The silence and stillness of my apartment congested my stomach with caution. “Babe?” Calling for my girlfriend, the wrestling coming from the bedroom caused me more concern. “Babe?”      Swinging open the door to my bedroom, the discovery of my girlfriend crying escalates my bad feelings. Rushing to her

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-17271102067523561632010-12-20T00:43:00.000-08:002010-12-22T12:41:54.816-08:00

     I hear them. Clicking. Chattering. I can hear footsteps walking towards us, drawing closer and closer. Soon, we will be caught.     Our climaxes are too close, yet too far to reach in time. We can’t stop. We should stop. But, withdrawing from you and getting completely dressed before that doorknob turns is impossible. Where do we go?How do we escape an inevitable light?      My stroke

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-17044526563551857552010-12-16T21:20:00.000-08:002010-12-16T21:20:32.145-08:00

Completely naked…Draped across my bed…His body collapses as he exhales completely…He’s ready. Pointing to the left side of his ass,He cautiously requests, “Here.” Sealing my thick lips around the selected section of skin,His body violently vibrates.Drawing his blood to the surface with my lungs…I sink my teeth into his flesh….Softly at first…Slowly penetrating deeper and deeper. His strained

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-66134856264402837932010-12-15T15:56:00.000-08:002010-12-15T15:59:23.255-08:00

     There are so many ways to get inside of a person. Beyond the metaphysical and proverbial, I am learning that our body is riddled with doorways and portals. Orifices. Weak spots. Achilles’ heels. Alternatively, it seems that our body is designed to invade. We are gifted with fingertips, slick tongues and cocks that are made to squeeze into the tightest spots. What's Sex? If it isn’t

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-42097983947800225442010-12-13T20:18:00.000-08:002011-06-07T22:37:46.156-07:00

Soft. Dainty. Petite. Your small fist sliding across my erection fills me with both pleasure and pride. The sight of my remaining length overflowing from your slick grasp… The sight of your fingers struggling to encircle around my girth… The sight of your ambidextrous handling magnifies my dick into a strong tower... You have pretty, little legs. Smooth. Flexible. Graceful. I love the

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-24285647052647580872010-12-09T11:47:00.000-08:002010-12-09T11:50:18.815-08:00

"But realize this, that in the last days difficult times will come.  For men will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant...without self-control, brutal...treacherous, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of god; holding to a form of godliness..." (II Timothy 3:1-5,7)      When I was

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-36739209440234323152010-12-05T17:04:00.000-08:002010-12-13T20:23:32.867-08:00

     We aren’t supposed to be here. I could be humiliated. I could be fired. I could lose everything, if someone were to walk through that door and discover what we are doing. Completely naked: your ivory legs opened wide; my blackness coated in shining sweat. Our trespassing is a misdemeanor. Us fucking here is a felony. The slight possibility of getting caught is vastly multiplied by

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-62508976466733953442010-12-02T12:09:00.000-08:002011-06-07T22:38:47.722-07:00

       I've attempted to walk away cold turkey.  I've tried seeing you a little less each week.  It's pointless, baby.  My pulse slows down to a crawl.  My blood thickens into vermillion molasses.  My brain throbs as if it's throwing a tantrum.  I can not quit this love without quitting life.  I intend on living.     You hold the violet keys to my crown chakra.  In your embrace, ideas fall from

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-78750758125816504502010-11-20T00:41:00.000-08:002010-11-20T00:41:56.052-08:00

"No, no; don't worry about it! I actually like making beds!"      She smiles sweetly, but her mind reflects a darker joy.  Looking at the mangled sofa coach, the tightly twisted comforter; she is filled with a subtle excitement.  Her thoughts tease, "Did we keep him up?"  Looking at the small wet spots in the fabric discovered in the sheets and the pillow cases.  Tears?  Semen?  The belief that

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-11831178534106810712010-11-18T21:48:00.000-08:002011-06-07T22:39:14.554-07:00

I recently received the opportunity to try and review a male supplement M-Drive      This supplement enhances the production of testosterone using, supposedly, natural ingredients.  I can attest that, in my thirty day trial, I have gone through subtle, yet significant changes in my behavior and physiology.  I was amazed to find that many of my personality traits could be influenced hormonally. I

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-71022395512000021592010-11-18T17:33:00.000-08:002011-06-07T22:39:42.488-07:00

     I found myself jogging at 3 am.  Taking all the sketchy shortcuts.  Circling the lake at its most vacant and dark time of day.  Since taking M-drive, a part of me wanted to find trouble.   I liked the way my heart races as I run behind closed shopping centers.  The rush of dark, wooded areas made me feel alive.  The higher volume of testosterone has turned me into a thrill seeker.      A

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-11228169668548433562010-11-17T00:56:00.000-08:002010-11-20T01:37:27.741-08:00

Wheel of Life (Featuring Yusef Lateef) I want to make a blood offering to My God Dangling fowl by their feet,I dance as their wings flap wildly.Slicing.  Pulling.  Pouring.  My naked torso is covered in life...The earth beneath my feet is soaked...The music possesses me,I dance until I'm completely nudeShouting.  Singing.  Clapping.My temple is anointed in sweat and blood... Moving my hips

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-4025712713539285592010-11-17T00:10:00.000-08:002010-11-17T00:10:51.465-08:00

Anyone that knows me knows:I am very entertained by the new, fetishist site FETLIFE      One of my favorite activities on the site is coming up with specific 'fetishes' to add to my laundry list.  You are allowed to create very specific terms to your arousal and delight, or even small clues to who you are outside of the whips and chains.  The amusing thing about these fetish lists is that it

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-78068848310248210012010-11-12T23:41:00.000-08:002010-11-12T23:41:14.219-08:00

     In the midst of our making love, your praise escaped her lips.  With her ankles in my grip, her toes in my mouth, her body full of my erection; you filled her mind.  You.  She saw me thrusting from above, heard me churning from behind, felt me supporting her from beneath; yet, your name flew from her mouth in the height of ecstasy. Did you hear it?      I imagine her thankful cries

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-81550898915900638412010-11-08T00:05:00.000-08:002010-11-08T00:05:52.813-08:00

     Tonight's suite swings into the second movement where the crowded orchestra boils down to a duet.  The party is over. The florescent surrenders to light of a different nature.      The darkness fills with the glow of your raspy soprano.  Your neck beneath my lips shines with the scent of amber.  My earlobe between your teeth...  The soft soles of your feet sliding up my calves...  Tight

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-37580906662255476612010-11-05T00:00:00.000-07:002010-11-05T00:00:08.464-07:00

      Me.  Her.  The Holiday Inn.  Over three days, we explored a thousand and one ways to reach sexual satisfaction.  Ping-pong paddles.  Hair brushes.  Enemas.  Furry, fox pajamas.  The works!  Since we planned our weekend respite, I was ecstatic about one thing: breaking out my new corset from The Folsom Street Fair.      After fumbling with the clasps on the front, I was ready to be zipped

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7017645988114394276.post-5928252963039996082010-11-04T19:23:00.000-07:002010-11-04T19:38:49.464-07:00

     He's a bit gnarly.  Cheap tattoos, dirty fingernails and a cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.  Gamy.  Messy.  Fun.  Why do I care?  I think, he provokes my nurturing side.  I think I developed crush seeing his shorts riding low on his narrow, long naked torso.  Perhaps, I detect a silver lining in his body odor?      I want to scrub him hard, until he emerges from my bathtub with a clean

Forbidden Lighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18276323921859830273noreply@blogger.com0