Below are the 3 most recent journal entries recorded in diaryoflies' LiveJournal:

Saturday, April 3rd, 2004
12:38 pm	Sleeping in. . . Today, I slept in. It was a long night last night, and I was a bit overtired. In all, it's been a pretty uneventful day, though, and I think I'm just updating to update. chronarchy ivited me to dinner, and I might go out with him, just for laughs. He'll probably want to discuss my story from last night. At least he will if he's read it yet. I don't spend enough time with him. . . Oh, hey, there's something to chase. . . Nice bit of tail just wandered by. Maybe I should make that one into a tale? Oh, make the puns stop! Make them stop! Current Mood: anxious (Comment on this)
Friday, April 2nd, 2004
7:36 pm	The Tree I sat quietly in the tree, looking down at the college kids walking below me. It was probably near midnight, and I was simply relaxing. It's amazing how people can be so focused on themselves and those around them that they miss everything else. I listened to snippets of conversation that floated up to me. Most were about where they were going to drink, who was sleeping with who, and which professors were jerks. I listened to these people talk, letting their words wash over me as I tried to piece together their stories. Over the course of about an hour, near one A.M., relaxing in the crotch of the tree I had even begun to doze as the kids became less and less frequent under my perch. I was listening to the crickets as they cried in the night, and by about 1:30, I only saw people pass under me occasionally. I was about to swing down from the tree, intent on going home, when I saw a couple walking toward me. One figure, a man, was taller, and the other, a woman, much smaller, but they were close enough together that I could tell they were whispering. As they came closer, the taller one drew the smaller into himself, and they kissed. It wasn't a short, simple kiss, but a long, passionate embrace. I watched them, unsure what to do. Most often, I simply relaxed here, but this felt quite voyeuristic. Of course, I quickly decided that there wasn't anything wrong with a bit of watching, and settled in to see what would happen. They broke their kiss, and he led her to the base of the tree I was in. I was high enough that I knew they wouldn't see me, nestled on a branch over their heads, but I had a clear view of everything they did. He pushed her back against the tree, in a rough but playful way. She responded with hands on his chest, obviously feeling him. He tilted her head back again and gave her a rough kiss, pushing her shoulders back, and bringing one hand up to her face. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she tilted her head back as he pulled. His lips found her throat, and he bit her. Her eyes were closed, and she let a deep moan escape her lips. Again he found her lips, moving his hands from her shoulders to her breasts, tweaking her nipples through her shirt. He slid a hand under her coat and around her back and pulled her into himself as he pushed against her. She took control at this point, placing her hands on his shoulders as he had just done to her, and she turned and pushed him back against the tree. She pushed against him, kissing him while her hands worked on his belt. I heard it jingle loose, and saw her go to her knees. The man watched, his eyes only on her. I watched her head bob up and down on him, as she worked him with her hand. Though she was in shadow, I saw her eyes flash in the dim light, and I knew her eyes were locked on his. He slid his hand behind her head and began to guide her and thrust into her. His moans became more frequent and urgent, and I knew he was about to climax. It was then that she stood and faced him, a smile on her lips. She still stroked him with her hand, but slower. He pulled her toward his body roughly, and kissed her, and moaned into her mouth as she continued to work him. She broke the kiss, leaning in and whispering something into her ear. He nodded, and they briefly pulled away from each other, but only long enough to change places. she stepped around him and placed her hands on my tree, and he stood close behind her. He leaned in to kiss her neck, sliding his hands down her body, stopping at the hem of her skirt. He continued kissing her neck as he lifted her skirt, and I heard her moan as he slowly began to push into her. He was taking his time, sliding in inch by inch, and she was relishing the pleasure. Her moan became louder and louder, until finally he was entirely inside her. He then began to work in and out, gathering speed, occasionally slowing down. The smile on his face told just how much he was enjoying this, and the moans (and occasional grunts) from her told the same story. I watched as they gathered speed, listening to the sounds from their throat, the occasional command to speed up or thrust harder, the compliments, and the delicious sound of flesh on flesh. They weren't even trying to be quiet any longer. Finally, their rhythm changed, and the man began to grunt as he pushed into her as hard as he could. Her moans became screams, and they pushed together one last time. For a moment, everything was silent. No crickets, no words, nothing moving in the brush. The two below me had collapsed together, holding each other tight. The next moment, it was as if they had suddenly realized where they were, and with a giggle from her and a grunt from him, they stood up and quickly adjusted, and strolled off into the darkness. I climbed out of my tree. I think I'll be there next Friday night, too. Current Mood: horny (Comment on this)
Thursday, April 1st, 2004
5:31 pm	Ah, what a day! Today, instead of going to work, I went fishing. Something in the cool crispness of the day called out to me. It was as if I'd bitten into an apple, it's sweet, succulant juices running down my cheek as the skin broke under my teeth. Today was a day to play hooky, and I'm fierce at that game when I play it. I pulled my fishing clothes on, and shoved my fedora onto my head. Every fisherman knows that you need a lucky hat when you step onto that bank, and I was no different. I left my briefcase lying next to the door, and instead descended into the basement to find and retrieve my fishing tackle. Little did I know that this would be an adventure in itself. In my basement are towers of old books, clothes, and random 80's nostalga. Each is precariously balanced from floor to ceiling, set just so that the slightest disturbance will bring an avalanche of GI Joe and He-Men down on an unwarry traveler. Fortunately for me, I knew where to step, and what to avoid. I carefully followed the path I knew so well through the mess. I picked my steps carefully, avoiding certain areas that I knew were certain death to venture into. Finally, I came within sight of my treasure. Sitting on the back table, near my workbench but within easy reach, was the tackle box and rod. The elation I momentarily felt at the sight of these items was banished quickly, though, for blocking my path was a device so wickedly cunning that a man can barely speak its name without fear: my girlfriend's antique dollhouse. How had it come to be between the object of my desires and my physical person? Certainly I would not have put it there, for I knew that such an obstacle could only mean that there was a far more devious mind at work: the mind of a woman who is intent on hoarding a treasured artifact of her childhood in vain hopes that a daughter will derive the same joy from it that she did. This new threat to my perfect morning was something I was certainly unprepared for, but I'm nothing if not resourceful. One cannot go around the dollhouse, for it is bordered on all sides by piles of crazy stuff. Moving the dollhouse would, of course, bring down the wrath of the woman. Only one option remained, and it was dangerous. I had to jump. This may not sound like much, but it was dangerous. Imagine if I couldn't get over it? I wouldn't survive the day with the girlfriend hunting me down. If I jumped too high, the ceiling (only 7 feet up) would take me (and possibly the dollhouse) out with narry a second thought. No, it was time for an heroic leap: the kind they do in movies. I backed up, giving myself a few feet of running room. I sighted the goal, thought about exactly what I wanted to do, and even visualized the contortions I would need to pull off while in mid-air. Finally, when I was mentally ready, I made my move. I flew through the air, graceful as a swan. I cleared both the ceiling and the dollhouse with room to spare, and prepared for landing. My hands touched first, and I let my momentum pull my body forward, rolling my feet over my head. I finished the roll, and stood up, amazed at what I had just done. I wish someone could have seen that. But, alas, the house was still silent, and I was late to meet up with those fish. I grabbed my rod and tacklebox, and noticed the door to my left. I'd gone through all that trouble, and forgotten that I had another access door to get me in. Apparently, even the fish were laughing too hard at me to realize they were supposed to be caught, for I didn't get a single one today. But it was such a perfect day for fishing that I didn't mind one bit. Well, maybe I should play hooky tomorrow? Current Mood: accomplished (2 Comments |Comment on this)