EXPECTATIONS…

I feel the weight on my shoulders sometimes,I feel I may be consumed it bothers me day and night as I wake up in the morning, as I lay down  to sleep at night, sometimes I cry wondering if I’ve got what it takes, I ask God to give me the strength and guide my part. I soldier on with hope and aspirations, sometimes I fail sometimes I win, but I never give up, no, never, i’m determined to make it no matter what it takes. Sometimes my drive and zeal makes me push the limits. I’m almost desperate at times I go to extremes, do things I said I wouldn’t do, I said I wouldn’t do this things before reality hit and I realized it’s a Wild wild world and sometimes you bend the rules and hope for some luck. This expectations are weighing heavy on me, it’s a fine line I’m  treading, hoping not to lose site of what the real aim is. This isn’t a pursuit of happiness quite the opposite with similar parallels. It’s a pursuit to stay relevant and to exist so at each turn, expectations meet duty, drive and zeal provide the fuel needed to keep me going. Sometimes I just want to give up, like “God why me” how does it come easy to some, some who don’t even believe in you. But who am I to question the almighty? Is a quick dollar really worth it? I ask myself and most times I say yes.  Today’s society is different from what and how our parents grew up so while they have passed on all their knowledge, it’s our duty to not just accept it but bring it up to date with society. This ain’t the 60’s anymore.I’m not desperate, no I’m not but expectations are weighing heavy on my shoulders sometimes I shed a tear just considering the possibility of being consumed, of not being able to fulfill expectations but I’m a born fighter, I’ll fight until there’s literally no fight left in me and I only see that happening when I’m six feet under the ground. Until that happens, I’ll keep feeling the weight of expectations and I’ll keep fighting. I hate to lose and I’ll never admit to being second best. It’s my self believe that I can do it if I’m devoted and put my mind to it, the drive to win means I’ll keep going even if I have lost a thousand times before I’ll keep going until I finally win, I don’t quit I can’t quit this expectations won’t just let me!!!

 

JOZI

A SLAVE TO LOVE

Turning restlessly on his bed trying to get some sleep, Treyvon realised he can’t, he works a high stress job but it’s nothing compared to how he feels about her, she’s his world, he’s lost in everything she does. Lust, compassion, jealousy, hate, kindness, affection, he can’t control any of it, all he wants is  Esperanza,the sound of her name to his ears, how it rolled out her tongue the very first day they met, his life is incomplete without her. She’s his world, he’ll give anything to have her right now. Physically, emotionally, carnally, that’s when it hits him he’s a slave to love. He has been thinking “what can I do to make it better, how much more can I do to impress her, what do I have to give up, what if she leaves or feels I’m not good enough for her or maybe I’m too good for her… what if!”

He recalls nights they’ve shared, his body against hers, her head on his chest, no space in between just deep breaths and sweet long deep kisses. So deep, so satisfying, so fulfilling, it’s passion at its fullest, and her breasts nudged against his chest. He remembers how they feel, how soft and comfortable those D-cups are, he remembers having it in his mouth, slushing all over it, he recalls her moans and the immense pleasure racing through his veins. He tries to control himself from getting lost but he already is, he’s a slave to love. Wow! he thinks, I miss her, I need her right now, I’d give anything for her to be in my arms right now.

He recalls how she whispers in his ears, nibbling carefully and playfully on his ears, it was raw pleasure sending shivers down his spine. He recalls kissing her inner thighs, slumbering down those big inner thighs, there was no place he would rather be. He remembers how wet she gets and how her body shivers to his every touch, he remembers going down on her, how warm it feels, it’s like the best slimy “gellish” thing he had tasted, she tastes like a delicate mix of exquisite Spanish cream, vanilla ice cream, a dash of ginger, it was truly beautiful. Her moans made him want to work her, pleasing her was all that mattered, she was his life. how he had made her clit so hard and red, playing with it for much longer would probably lead her to the “mountain”,how he gets so hard from having the time of his life with the woman of his life, on that very first night, he thought to himself how hasn’t he already climaxed, no time for thinking though he needed to go to that special place and take her with him. Finally, he mustered the strength and slid it in, she gave a gasp as she felt the length of him in her, it was ecstatic. he filled every inch of her. Slowly and gently with rhythm he went back and forth it was like a gymnast doing his routine but he was no gymnast he was just inspired by a woman, this woman, his woman! He was a slave in love.

He recalls how it lasted only a short while but it was more about the journey and he was satisfied how the journey had gone and he felt she wasn’t dissatisfied either. It was for her like being to Paris, seeing that shoe you always dreamed about with the dress and hand bag to match all of this completely free and given to you by someone who cares about you it was the ultimate feeling of pleasure it was wonderful well at least, that’s what she told him or he thought he heard. He recalls them lying naked, talking about stuff and laughing for hours both too tired to get out of bed. it had been a great night and nothing seemed more important than being in each other’s arms or so he thought.

Now here he was without her, all by himself, it tortured him to think about it but he had no choice he was in love. Where could she have gone where could she be? why hasn’t she sought him out? he began to fear the worst, what had happened to his woman? he couldn’t fathom being without her. it was the worst thing ever. He was sure he couldn’t bear it but she was out there somewhere, he could feel it. Maybe she needs rescuing, Maybe she has someone else, Maybe her phone would ring, Maybe… just Maybe he’ll wake up and this would all be a nightmare and she’ll be lying right next to him, her mouth slightly ajar breathing softly into his chest,,,, his phone beeps to bring him back to the present. it’s not her but there’s news… it’s not bad news but it isn’t good either…

Tune in for part 2😁

A guy called Jozi

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