Message-ID: <11757eli$9805312033@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: dez187lm@hotmail.com (H.D. Meister) Subject: {ASSM} Story: To the Winds - to the winds.txt [1/1] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6kqvke$c4f$5@solaris.cc.vt.edu> Greetings from the edge dear reader. Again... if you are not at least 18 or live in a community where adult material is not wanted, DO NOT READ THIS! Post freely and archive if you desire. Critique as you see fit. All I ask is that you do not make a profit from my work and give the author all due credit. -- Know you this: I am all I am. Nothing more... never less. Live or die, i do not care. So long as another sees and knows and learns, then I am at peace. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To the Winds By: H.D. Meister (dez187lm@hotmail.com) Here I am. I know who I am. I know what I am. I know that I have lived for so long, and will die just as sure as will anything else which lives. I know many things... like where I stand with you. Once there was a time when we didn't know each other existed. Times change. Now we not only know of each other, but we can tell when one is plotting. I can see the thought you have before it is crushed on your face. I know more of you than maybe you do. I know what your heart craves. And I am willing to give it that and so much more. Yet I cannot. Why? Because to you, I am the brother you never had. I am family. I am someone whom you trust beyond trusting yourself. And I can never know the pleasures of your flesh. So be it. But this does not mean that I have no mind. Years spent pondering science fiction have birthed a mind capable of grasping concepts most obscure. I can see you reach for love in places most dark. The men whom you claim to love are lost in their own worlds of pain and paranoia. They cannot see beyond their own veils of lies and half-truths. Those whom you spread your legs for may care for you... even love you... but they care more for themselves. And you know this. You know what I would do; I told you as much. You know that I would spend countless hours nursing at the fountain between your thighs. You know that it would never be just sex. You know it would not... could not... be just a fuck. You know. So do you fear it, or do I, or do we both? How long are we to dance around the reality we both know exists? How many nights must we spend either alone of in the arms of someone we hope understands? You don't know, and neither do I. Sadly... I accept this while you continue to experiment. Love is not some colony of fungus to be examined under a microscope. It cannot be picked apart and analyzed by someone with more sheepskin on his wall than a sheepherder with a thousand head of sheep. What are we to each other? I know now, and it saddens what little of me is human. We will never know the pleasure of each other's caress. I will never know what your lips taste like, or feel like as they wrap themselves around my manhood. When I dream of holding you in my arms as we pleasure each other, I know that this will be as close as I will ever get. You, however, never think of me. I am family, and decades of morals teach that family do not have such thoughts about each other. You wait patiently for your latest find to soothe the itch between your thighs. You wait for the reality. And assume the role of willing servant to their whims. Anal sex. Blow job. Fucking. These are nothing but words to you. They are deeds which you do like blinking. Less than nothing, and even less important. It is these same morals which keep you in the arms of males only. You fear the touch of a female so much that you will run and hide from it. No reason... just morals taught to you by those who were taught by those... It continues to be borne, and I will see the light of day of you bear fruit. And on that day, I shall cry again. not for you, for those tears have long since dried up. What was his name? Or does that even matter to you? I will remember the name of the woman who walks with my child in her womb. I shall love that child... sacrifice my own immortal soul if it means that my chi9ld will never know the pain I have felt.. I will teach my child that the coin has two sides. What will you teach yours? Will you teach a boy that only women can give him pleasure? Will you share the pleasures of fucking with your daughter? Will you teach her how to suck dick the "right" way? There was a time when I would dare to answer those questions for you. Now... I am older. I do not care. I don't even care for you, and that is my greatest tragedy. Fly or fall... live or die. I do not care. You have chosen your path. You sleep with those for whom the lure of green fields and white snow are all. You thrash about in their dreams, making them your own. You have forgotten yourself, and all I can do is watch as you fall. inch by inch I see you fall, and long to help you. I cannot. That is not my place. I will go to sleep this night. Maybe I will dream... maybe not. I don't care. What will be will be, and I will do what I can with what I have. Suck on that dick. Fuck that cock. Call his name. But I know the truth... you know nothing. Even if I know nothing... I know I know nothing. What do you know? 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