The Thrill Of The Hunt.

Lust fades, Thrill dies.
Prey seized, Stray Lies.
What was once coveted no longer applies.
The passion absent. No binds tied.
It was fun to chase you. Enjoyable to a fault.
I'll admit I was enraptured. A willing captive in your vault.
But times changed as well as feelings.
Words fall short as well as meanings.
What was once all I needed turned into what I wanted.
And what I wanted was only because I had it. Madness.
How could my most prized possession become an afterthought?
Has time spent together become the bane I never sought?
Once a predator has it's prey, it feeds, and then dismisses.
In this instance the prey happens to have the title of Mrs.
I was content where I was, and though I will stay.
I miss the thrill of the hunt and will soon seek new prey.

-A Rare Jewel-

She wasn't sure if it had been from a formally sheltered upbringing, the " Daddy" issues she'd had as a child, or perhaps just from the sheer thrill of the enjoyment or attention. Regardless of the case, one thing was clear. Jewel loved sex. Perhaps it was the tenseness in the air before it began or that feeling of accomplishment when she caused men to quiver and spasm? She'd often pondered it to herself but thought nothing more of it. She did, in fact, secretly fear that it all derived from some horrid memory she'd blocked out somewhere along the line. If this were the case, why bring it up now when she was at the peak of her life's enjoyment?

Though she was considered a 'loose' woman, namely a 'hoe', 'slut', or any of those choice referrences, she paid the naysayers no mind as she conducted herself. Her hygiene was consistently spot-on, she ALWAYS made sure protection was used, made a point to never kiss on the mouth, and even went as far as to make records of names and dates of when she slept with people. Sex was simply a means to an end as far as she was concerned. Whatever end that was was still unknown and would remain to be if she had anything to say about it.

She was roused from her thoughts by the groan of ecstacy of her Tuesday "appointment", Larry. She lay beneath him, shifting slightly to accomodate for his weight while running her fingers across his back. " Mmm...did you enjoy it?" she ask, smiling up at him brightly. She had the figure of a porn star, kept in a nice trim package thanks to the hard work she put it at the gym. Her stamina was legendary as well, leaving even the mostly athletic Larry huffing lightly to collect himself as she took even, casual breaths. " I did. Did you?" he asked, cautiously rolling off of her and removing himself from her loins. She cood slightly at the movement and curled over on her side, propping her head upon the palm of her hand. " It was pleasing to me, yes." she responded coyly, cocking her head to the side in a playful manner.

He chuckled to himself, occupying the space next to her and staring into her caramel eyes. " Glad I could make you happy.." he trailed off, words drifting as if more was to follow. She returned his gaze momentarily only to shake her head and laugh. "Mmmhmm. I'll bet. Now, shouldn't you be going? You don't want to be late." " Late..?". She sighed a hopeless sigh, leaning over towards her clock and tapping it lightly. " Yes, baby, LATE. Today is your anniversary with the Mrs. You're fucking up.." He grimaced, falling his head back into the pillow. " Aw, shit. You're right..." he sighed softly, rubbing his eyes. " I know I'm right!" she replied matter-of-factly, nudging him in the ribcage with her foot. " Now get out of my bed!". He complied, rolling out of bed and standing to shuffle around her decorated room to find and assemble his clothing.

"Okay...let's go over it..." she shifted, crossing her thick thighs one over the other as she rested her back against the pearl headboard. Arms folded over supple breast delicately as she spoke. " Where were you..?". Larry adjusted himself against the wall as she slid one leg into his sweats.
"The gym.."
"Why was your phone off?".
"My battery died."
"What time did you get there...?"
"....uugh..."
Jewel laughed out loud, barely able to stifle herself before shaking her head. " She's gonna fuck you up one day, you know that right?". He laughed at himself, shaking his head as he sat down to tie his shoes. "You got off of work at 3:30. You were suppose to get off at 2:30 but you had to wrap up that meeting and your client was working late. You packed a gym bag this morning before you left home so you went straight from work to the gym not realizing your phone had died. You worked out for a hour, which is partially true, and you're going home to hop in the shower ASAP before she gets home. Now did you get all of that?". Larry nodded, standing up fully clothed and throwing his gym bag over his shoulder. " Got it. I'll text you later, Jewel." he smiled and walked out of her bedroom. She sighed, shaking her head and reaching to the first drawer on her nightstand to retrieve her Notebook. Using the trusty ink pen left attached, she scribbled in the information.
August 27th
3:00-4:22
Larry Goodwin
Sex: 6/10
Placing the notebook securely back into the drawer, Jewel rolled out of bed herself, streched upward, and sauntered towards the shower to wash off the smell of past events. The day was just breaking and the night was still open to speculation. Perhaps she'd find a new suitor to keep her interest tonight, or maybe she'd settle on a good book. Either way, she'd make sure she was stimulated in some aspect.

ReAffirmation

Reaffirmation-tr.v. re·af·firmed, re·af·firm·ing, re·af·firms

To affirm or assert again.

 

Lost motivation.

A crippling sensation that hinders elevation.

Elevation of thought lacking elements taught from prior sessions wrought.

Maneuvering through my maelstrom of thought to construct a noteworthy plot.

It's easier just to give up, put it off. "I'll come back to it later..." I tell myself.

Convinced that within my thoughts contain my wealth, I let that feeling fade.

Pen doesn't touch paper for Moon upon Moon, what was once sharp slowly dulling to a rusted blade.

I find myself slowly falling into an slump, the poison that is Sloth attempting to consume.

It's corrosive effects exposed to my soul and hindering it's bloom.

I could let my thoughts be stifled and choked. Let my hopes remain battered and broke.

A remnant of potential washed away by inessentials. Lost in the norm. A Rose lost in it's thorns.

Forlorn doubts cloud the skies of creativity. No more Ramblings. Thoughts dead. Inactivity.

Or I could remember my purpose. My power. My passion. Pen meet papers in publishing fashion.

The will to create landscapes out of space or use wordplay to outplay escapades.

I have complete intentions on overshadowing competition; achieving praise and noteworthy recognition.

I refuse to stop working and improving until there's cause for celebration.

I've committed myself to this task, so I'll call this my Reaffirmation.

Ramblings..

Life is weird in a way that, well, I could tell you but you already know. Like the Glow, sought by Bruce Leroy, I deploy probes into the depths of my thoughts that destroy doubt. I am random, in a since, but since it's my paper and pen, and my thoughts reside within, I figured I could burn incense and reminisce about times of innocence.

Too much? Fine, I'll simplify...

"Roses are red, and..."

Wait, this isn't me! I refuse to slow down progress so you can process my prowess! Children will be left behind so I've taken out the carseats on this journey through the mind. It takes time to align thoughts and devise plots of conquest unless your tactics are on par. Lest you fall victim to the monotony of Monopolies. Your mind isn't Free Parking so unless you're trying to go to Jail or take that long walk, invest time in to yourself and make your way from Baltic to Boardwalk.