silverlaker

The lighting has been magnificent every morning, but I have not heard from Serge. I found myself speaking. And quite loudly, like never before. Gabriel & I have so much to talk about. His love of art and design, especially Norwegian wood, is captivating. I never want to wake up. My right arm doesn't seem to be moving very well. I don't remember why. However, Gabriel seems satisfied with the way I hold his dick in my left hand. As long as we are happy, I choose not to think about things for which I have no answer. Each day, we wake up, have tea and go for a walk through the park. I am in a waking dream with my lover by my side. Dahlia called me yesterday and said that she misses me, that she's worried. I asked her why she hasn't come over. She said nothing. I feel like part of my life is accelerating to such ecstasy and the other part is dying like paper in a fire. Life seems both wicked and beautiful. I don't know who I am anymore. But when Gabriel slides into me, squeezes my ass in his hands, teasing me with his tip, I hardly care what is real and not.

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