For The Love Of Smut

***Disclaimer: This piece is rated R. I actually have a ton of writings, as well as some art and photography (with more to come, I’m sure) that match that rating. I like to joke to myself that when I’m 65 I’m going to open an OnlyFans account and release it all.***

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At some point I fell in love with myself and I know that sounds cocky and that people who don’t love themselves may call me all kinds of derogatory terms because of that; but I did. I fell in love with me—with my heart, my mind, and body. I bet on me. I’ve invested in me. I believed in me when no one else did. I’ve discovered the value I both hold and give.

I’m grateful for that. Yet, there’s still an ache inside of me as I’ve fallen in love with myself and in doing so I just can’t understand how someone else may not. I understand I’m not for everyone of course, but I felt them—both of them. I can still feel them…

My phone has been buzzing off the hook since I got home from meeting a friend; people wanting to plan coffees and get togethers or just wanting to connect, and yet all I want to do is come home and put down my day in the arms of a man. To cuddle and fuck, and release all this energy, tension, and worldly madness into a sopping wet orgasm. I want to take all this love I pour into myself and pour it into someone else: Sexually, romantically, intimately…Compassionately. As I empty it all out, I want him, in turn, to turn me around and fill me back up.

It seems so easy, right? How hard can it be to meet someone?

I’m talented and attractive. I’m genuine, kind, and nurturing. I’m short! I mean c’mon, I’m just a wee little lass with an hourglass form. Yet, it’s not so easy as by this age we’ve all accumulated our fair share of wounds, addictions, and pain. I don’t know why he withdrew, but he has and that’s okay as his choice in doing so tells me all I need to know. I realize it’s some sort of cosmic protection as my groin is yearning to let myself loose on his cock—To just let him fuck me and to have fun, even though I know I can’t do that. I understand, logically, that his silence is for the best; yet it still hurts. I still feel rejected although I’m grateful to say that at least this time I know it isn’t about me. Deep down I know it isn’t because he doesn’t like me or isn’t attracted to me, in fact I’m quite sure it’s the exact opposite: He likes me too much. I know that may sound insane to some but I love me and this ain’t exactly my first rodeo. He ran. He sabotaged. Before it could even start, he subconsciously made sure it was over. I’ve been here before, and I can’t even speak to him about it because I don’t know this man. It’s not like we were in a relationship or something. We’re not friends. I don’t chase anyone. If they leave, I let them walk. Yet somehow, somehow I’m sure that there’s something deeper happening between us. It’s insane, really. I mean, I have to look at it as such if I’m to stay grounded.

I’m grateful I came to the thought of him this morning while still thinking of romantic love. There was still an authentic sense of respect and safety; of bonafide feelings. Thank you for that. It’s nice to know I can crush on someone new for a change; I’ve been pining the same man for far too long now.

It hurts. Both hurt. Unrequited love or I guess, lust. Lust wrapped in fantasies of romance… There’s no sight of either man on the horizon yet I’m still feeling grateful because at least this shows me that I can move on. There are a lot of single men in this world and the right one won’t run. He won’t chase either. He will pursue me with consistent intention, maturity, and clarity. I know this because I know my worth. I love me. I bet on me. I’ve invested in me. I believe in me. And I know the right one will too, for I am his Queen. I am his maiden, his wife, his goddess and whore. I am his muse; divinity wrapped in a human form. I know what I bring to the table and though I know not who he is, I still believe he’s out there, watching me from afar. Planning. Preparing. Building the foundation needed to bring me into his world.

I’m okay if it isn’t my last crush, I’m ready to let go of him now. I’ve been ready for a while… There’s just been so few candidates and this new man, he doesn’t have the right signs. Some things, spiritually, are set in the stars, yet it’s still nice to know that he caught my eye. That, in itself, is rare. And, I have a new body and face I can think of in the interim (I’m confident he won’t mind). I’m free to dream as I tend the garden of my heart through the wild embrace of own loving touch; awaiting he—He who loves and respects me as much as I do.

I am whole as I am right now and it’s still okay to want love; to desire another body to enjoy my body–the carnal knowledge of our physical lust. We may be soul beings but we have incarnated here as humans; experiencing the physical world is a part of the great learning.

It’s okay, baby girl. Turn your faith back over to God. Breathe him in and then breathe him out. Any man that wants to talk to you knows how. Stay aligned with what you want. The Universe has its own timing and clock.

Art As Therapy by Amy Frank (2021)