Hey jealousy

The other night, Charlotte and I were discussing jealousy. Turns out she’s most jealous of the women I desire who don’t want to fuck me. Because, I think, she appreciates the power of ardor when desires are thwarted.

She worries I’ll compare to her, that I’ll find in others what I miss in her.

Of course – this is ridiculous. But jealousy never claimed to be rational. For my part, I’m capable of enormous jealousy over as little as a conversation with another man. Never mind his putting his cock in Charlotte’s (or, to be honest, any woman’s) mouth, or cunt. I long to know that I’m always – always – in every woman’s mind, near the front/top, to the exclusion of all others.

This isn’t rational. It’s not reasonable. Fuck. It’s not even possible. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting it.

Charlotte and I are getting to know one another fast/slow, and each of us is committed to attending to the other’s jealousy. Which isn’t to say that either of us can protect the other.

In the mean time, I continue to assemble my library of her pleasure for my, and your, delectation:

Here’s a minute of her edging before she spent three minutes snapping photo after photo for me:

And here’s a minute of her edging after those three minutes.

Quiet, but delicious. No?

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