Improvisations of my monologues

Improvisations of my monologues

A Story by Painting in black

I am walking at tropic streets of pacific winds. Here are few coffee shops and dealers of a drugs. Few prostitutes and screaming children of poverty. I don't fall so easily to cry for humans and they rebelions. I am completly happy man with no purpouse or aims. Joyfull fellow without money and rent. All at my life come in naturely and without will. I writing on piece of paper my thoughts without particular logic and order. I can smell sensuality from every women who pass me with hypnotic looks. They don't speak but simply they exist without explanations. I feel vibrations of they foot steps behind me. It's more joyful pleasure of human existence. We are still alive even whole world is already death . I am close to my favorite cafe place.

Here I am lonely contributor of thoughts and sexual chemistry. My favorite table near to toailet is occupied nevermind. There is women with short hair cut with color of dying sun. Her breasts are moving in rhytm of her breathing it's invitation for new exploration. I don't ask i just simple sitt down at front of her pacific face. I say few words in no particular desire. Just to break ice and let her know . I am here and maybe also for her. She gave me polite smile of friendly enemie. I am waiting untill they brought me mine coffee and whiskey. Music is playing sensual acid jazz waves. Room is almost heating with sexual vibrations. I taste my drinks and smile again . It's moment of preparation before the make connection .

My words are not precise but we are getting closer to our aim. She is particapating and she reading me some article about Lawrence Durrel . Moments are open and we are letting all go. We don't say each other names or where we live. We both want to keep our freedom and secrets . If you see us at strong sun light how we make love on sweating beach it will nothing mean for us. We will take it like another moment of our conversations.
We are swimming through our flesh into Nordic shore of penetrations. Her breasts are heating under mine hands. I can feel her tongue at my mouth . We are not done yet .

© 2019 Painting in black

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Added on July 18, 2019
Last Updated on July 18, 2019

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