Sex Travels By Odeon Black

This blog is not about going to Indonesia, Thailand or some other exotic land to get your “rocks off”.  It is about getting them off where ever you are!  It is about the ease of “mental masturbation” like you want it.  No holds bar. So take a trip with me.  Clothing optional.

Sometimes when I close my eyes I can picture the perfect sex.  The kind that makes you want to “stay in the moment” and never leave.  Sometimes it involves the ultimate surrender, one that only a quadriplegic can provide, where my vulnerability is part of the sexual game she and I play.  She knows I cannot move, but ties my hands anyway.  She knows I will be where she left me, but commands me not to move.  She believes that I will follow her every command and understands the sexuality of my stillness.  She feels the sexual energy where she makes it, where she allows it to be – like the monks of a thousand years, her understanding is enlightened by the fact that she believes.     It is what it is, for it can be nothing else unless we make it so.  I could be a prisoner of her lust because she treats me like her other lovers.  She does not lessen my ability to be bound.

In another instance, I close my eyes and see myself in the middle of a crowded bus towards Frisco Bay, my wheelchair pressing into the folded-up seat and the heat just rises.  It is an unusually hot day for the Bay and even hotter for me, as I pretend not to notice her.  She stands so close.    Human bodies pushing upon each other in their summer wear, pressing in a careless manner and acting like they don’t realize it.  She realizes it!  Her bohemian blue and green skirt tightens as other passengers push her towards the side of my wheelchair.   I pretend not to notice, but can feel myself getting a mental hard-on to challenge the Washington Monument.  There are small beads of sweat on her neckline and they run down to meet her white tee.  Her hard nipples reveal no bra and she catches me peering at her.  She stares back, and with her fingers, brings back her dark straight hair.  I do not look away.  Then, as if we rode the bus together, she leans over and starts whispering in my ear.  Her voice is soft and her breath is warm like Redwoods in July.   She smells like incense and sex.  Her words are deliberate and meant to evoke the animal instinct in men and women.  They pour into my ear down to the tip of my dick and they dare me not to cum.

I understand how good sex is in the flesh.  However, I am captivated by the places I can go by just closing my eyes.  The scents and the taste I can have without ever leaving my space.  I fall in love and make love with people I will never meet.  I am the thought that flowed into a river of passion because I wanted it.  Where do you go when your eyes are closed?