The Stories Bodies Tell Us

This is a parallel of my wonderful Halley's post.

My fourth toe on my left foot is crooked, because I come from a family where this is normal, the one on my right foot is straight because, around age 8, I tripped over a toy and broke it straight.

My toenails have a little chipped yellow polish on them; I like to have fun with "girly" things, and then don't care enough to upkeep them.

My legs aren't shaved, because I don't much care to shave them.

My calves are muscular, mostly from holding so much weight off the ground, but they also tell the story of marching band, something that was fun that I used to fill up the space in my life around my halley when I couldn't talk to her before.

My vulva, generally isn't messed with, because I like the way it naturally is most times. When it has been shaved, it shows I'm ready for some oral sex, actually

My genitals, overall, are intact and not pierced, showing I come from a culture where female genital mutilation is not allowed by law, and that I don't want to modify my body on my own terms much.

My tummy is big, with stretch marks all over. They're purple and red and run deep. I don't mind them, and my halley says they're there for ayees to feel and I like that. I like how it's not all smooth and there are little valleys to feel.

My chest is uneven, and I have a little freckle type spot on the bottom of my left areola that makes me happy. I like how none of it is symmetrical.

I have long fingers just like my daddy, and a freckle that I use to tell my left from right that's right on the web of skin attached to the thumb of my left hand.

My left eye has a pupil that's shaped like pac-man. It doesn't affect my vision, except through a microscope. When looking into one, I have that pie-slice cutout in my vision. (must be something about how microscopes work)

My hair has recently been cut to a little over my shoulders. I like it this way because I feel more androgynous.

I am special. And I am the only one with a body that tells all of these stories.

Fucking

Well, guys, it's time we talk even more about sex! My halley has a wonderful post up over on her blog. And I could never hope to equal it, but I do want to tell you how it feels to have such purely animalistic sex, just like she did.

See, I lose track of me and her. I lose track of my actions and her responses. There's so much pleasure and so much pain that I can't tell if I want it to stop, and even if a part of me did, I couldn't tell it to say no because this is just so good that the pain can never equal the pleasure, and I'm digging my nails into her and I'm not knowing what she feels or what's going on and I'm not hearing her or seeing her or even feeling her because I can't feel seperate enough from her to experience her. I just am her, and she is me and it feels so good, and I keep coming back to good, because all of my thoughts have turned to pleasure and all of my words have flown away. I can barely think good, and there's so much good and I can't feel anything else and I'm lost in her and I don't want to move and I want to squirm and I just want more, more, more, but I don't think I can take more because I don't know what will happen if I cum anymore and I'm watching her beauty, but I can't tell that she's not me, and I want it to go on forever and I want, I want, I can't stop wanting and the isatiable desire builds andd the more I get the more I want and I almost thank god that it doesn't stop, but then I remember this is not god, this is halley, but maybe halley is god, and then I want to worship her, I want to thank her, I want to scream my gratitude for her but my words are still gone so I settle on a moan, a loud, animalistic grunt and a scream, and I can't remember my name or the alphabet, and I don't remember who I am except that I belong with her and I can't remember what I like except this, just more of this feeling, just this forever, and there's good everywhere and I'm covered and wet and the only words I can remember are good and more, and I know that's what I want and I don't know anything about life except this, and that this is good.

Anitilian

Halley and I have our own language. We call it Anitilian. Now, it's not an entire language; It's a decently sized set of words that evolved themselves from purposeful baby talk, sleepy mistakes, and wanting to talk about "inappropriate" things in front of people who could affect us with their consequences. That we can talk in a way that no one else knows makes me unbelievably happy. I feel so mmmmm, the anitilian word for something a bit more than comfort and warmth, based on the natural contented sigh type noise we make when together. I may describe more of the language because it slips up every once in a while when I talk or write to other people, so, when here, instead of changing it, I'll explain the word meaning and it's origin. I'll start you off with one she described on her own blog.

Namic- a mix between play pretend kid games and sexual roleplay, deeply involved and participated in by both of us.
Origin- Interesting relationship dynamic,   relationship dynamic, lationship namic, namic

Anitilian- Our personal language
origin- a corruption of the common letters in our full names. "anytlean" was how it started, and we changed the spelling to one we found better.