My 5 Levels of DesirebyCoolville©
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Click Here to listen. (7.5 min/mp3)
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Level 1 is basic fucking, raw desire, with a wife, girlfriend, lover but preferably a stranger.
It's pure animal instinct. Purely in the interest of self and self-satisfaction.
Cock and cunt.
The sex partner is a mere prop in my quest to cum. Ideally, she feels the same way about me. It's all chemistry and hormones and not much else.
It's all pure sensation and sexual imagery - both of us staring down at my cock pummeling her cunt - every sound intensified, every sensation an earthquake. It's fast and furious. It's messy. It's amazing.
We were only together for less than an hour. Never saw her again. Which is perfect for us both.
The sex is intense because of the waltzing flirt that led to it. Whether spoken - with witty remarks that made her laugh or stimulating conversation or unspoken - eyes, lips, body language and then a simple nod to signal the start of physical bliss.
Our eyes wandered between the imagery of cock in cunt, tongue on clit, lips on cock, to each others eyes. On this level we wish to please as well as be pleased. Ideally we will achieve both. These are the women I remember when I masturbate later in life.
Level 3 is a longer period of attraction which culminates in a lengthy sex session. Something has been in the air for sometime and finally we both agree to act on it. All the physical, aesthetic qualities are firmly in place. I fancy her. The mere thought of her arouses me. I fear the consequences of becoming emotionally attached. I have to be aware that I don't mix the physical with the emotional.
I crave her sex. It's not an obsession, merely passion. I want to fuck her, to feel what it is like inside her but I find myself kissing her often during the sex, staring into her eyes to watch her increasing desire. Invariably I will go through life wondering if I missed out on something big.
This level is my breath caught in my throat, my heart skipping beats, my need to constantly satisfy myself when alone with thoughts and images of her floating through my head. This is me jerking off to images of holding her tight, watching her sleep naked in the morning sunshine more than jerking off to images of fucking her. If I called it love I wouldn't be far wrong. I am well over the emotional line on this level. My physical needs are great and intense but here tenderness features strongly. Even during a hard, throbbing, up against the wall fucking. This is a woman I want to wake up next to and make breakfast for. For as long as it lasts. Whether that be two weeks or twenty years.
This is religion. This is when the woman is a temple at which I must worship. A cathedral. And, like religion, it is flawed. It is often a one-way street. This is obsession and it is dangerous. It will end in tears and sobs. Mine, not hers. This level is reserved for women who are unattainable. Veritable goddesses both physically and mentally. They are perfection. Even when I'm fucking her, giving her orgasms, I am acutely aware that I do not possess her. That she doesn't wish to be possessed by me, leaving me feeling completely inadequate.
Nevertheless, I continue to hope. I battle with feebleness, jealousy, insecurity and through it all she just shrugs and smiles, eventually fading away. These women are an idée fixée. These women make men start wars.
This is level five merely because every emotion is in play. Every frail insecurity, every passionate desire, every angry, jealous thought, every pathetic sob at the thought of never possessing her. This is intensity in all its bitter glory. This is the very heart of the anguish of existentialism. Thank god it's a rare occurrence.
It's celebrity obsession, it's a forty year man's obsession with a twenty year old beauty.
It's maddening is what it is.
Choose your level and let me know why you prefer it.