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July 2nd, 2008

I was half awake, irritated. I had opened my eyes unwillingly to find myself in an off mood. I hated my consciousness, but I was awake for sex.

I followed him to the shower, feeling distant and disconnect from my body. My mind was thick, heavy, distracted, and I did not feel physically connected to anything.

I went through the motions, echoing his kiss, holding him back to me, waiting to feel normal again. I was on the cusp of normal. I knew how I should be feeling and reacting, yet I couldn't quite swim through my insanity and sleepy haze to get there. He seemed so far away even as he pressed right against me.

We fumbled half-conscious, yet he could not get inside me. I leaned back, unable to move, as he continued to miss my opening. Neither one of us seemed to be working.

"You keep closing the gate on me," he said.

Finally, I lowered myself to our trusted position and pinned myself in the back of the tub. My bruises from our last session ached and whined severely as he pressed against me, but he was finally inside me.

As he fucked me from behind, my legs cried out more exhausted than my mind. Waves of irritation crashed over me as I found myself waiting for him to cum.