Our eyes are lovely
Our hearts are hungry
Under the stars
Blanket of stars
The city lights
Melts on mine
Swells on mine
A slow chorus
A slow chorus
It’s wonderful, in my opinion, to see how much of myself I could relate to in the character of the film Nymphomaniac throughout both volumes, from growing up and taking charge of every decision, single-handedly based on her terms, her rebellious nature, her moments of aloofness, her philosophy of lust and her avoidance of love, her emotions being thrown like a whirlwind into the act of sex, her destructions of interpersonal relationships, her views on society and how humanity can be summed up in one word: Hypocrisy.
So much of me, belong to this character and it astonishes me that a director has taken the time to put together the story of this woman who I look at as a heroine. I never once pitied or judged her although she managed to critique herself harshly and understandably so. But what I do take away from the film itself is, in society, I think people are given two choices. The first is you could play the game based on the terms and conditions of society as long as you’re faking happy to keep the image of conformity intact. Or the second: You can be an outcast.
I think her struggles are very real and of course society doesn’t let up on the notions of how she should behave, for instance when one of her bosses demanded she get help for her sexual addiction. Its constant questioning, steady debating on what’s right, what’s wrong and according to whom? The beauty is in how she stands up for herself in her ball of strong integrity despite the gnawing loneliness she possesses or those in the path looking to disgrace her light whether done subtle or forwardly.
She fights for herself because to put it simply it’s about survival.
I’m in it and I can’t get out of the gym because it’s my strength and my therapy. It’s my happy place, my go-to home! The gym is where I go to deal and/or get rid of my doubts and concerns. The gym is the place where I continue to forge my character. The gym gives me my sanity back. It’s my constant haven, not to mention it’s an orgasm away from an actual orgasm.
When two people have been fancying and aching for identical obsessions with one another for an extended period of time, fantasizing without end, dreaming superior dreams and witlessly idolizing to only approach together becomes a mixture of strong release, beautiful liberation and a relishing of everything feeling right within moments shared.
I was flat on my back on a blue stretching mat; I had just plopped down from wincing at the unbelievable pain of foamrolling and holding the spot on my super tight hamstring from a training session I underwent angrily abusing my body a few nights ago. Dark Knight came on over to give me more pointers and how to triple the pressure onto these spots. I did as told for a few minutes and off he went to continue his Chest and Back Training.
Staring at the ceiling, at first creating faces of pain like I misplaced a long lost love when my ears perked up and I listened out for his grunts and how he grinded out every set of every rep with continuous vigorous craze. It seemed as if my subconscious took over for a flash and I squeezed my legs together tightly as an orgasm contraction and closed my eyes tenderly and started to pant allowing my breathings to turn erratic.
He came around the corner with his gorgeous radiant smile and asked me how my hamstrings was doing while removing the foamroll from underneath me and placing a big bright yellow stability ball under my legs for cute support. Among the questions, he asked if I had anything else on my mind. I shot him the infamous zoom eye to the top left corner look with my hands plastered on my forehead running through my hair frenzied and responded with, “I’m turning myself on listening to your groans as you workout.”
On one knee he lunged to the floor (and I’m not sure what he was talking about anymore once he hovered) and tapped kissed me with his voluminous lips. I kept my eyes open to gaze at him and he did the same. A few more beautiful tap kisses and I placed my hands on both sides of his face to drag him in as we suckled in bliss and endorphins.
I crunched upwards towards him and eventually had to hold my neck up but as an attentive lover does, he took his own arm once he noticed and filled his arm in place. Gleefully my hands slid around his big muscular veiny forearms and against the sweat of his layered shirts that stuck onto his football player traps. His hands lingered on the back of my neck and then he started to lower down to fondle my breast where he felt for a nipple and pinched it with slight effort as my back arched like a cat in freakish heat.
I’m unsure how I got up from the stretching mat, unsure of how we even strolled into the main shadowy weight room. All I knew is he sat on the bench with the barbell loaded with two 45lb plates on each side and he pulled me to sit with him, our legs on either side of the bench where he innocently kissed my hair, face and neck right to my lips. We locked in our mouths and I started to listen and feel what was going on: Pure chemistry.
The noise of suckling lips, hands sliding the world of bodies. The moans of desire cascaded on each other’s faces, the eye contact of fury and eyes closed in sensational delight. The teasing of his kisses where he would open his mouth but not dart his tongue directly into mine all led me to flow with him like a moral story.
What I enjoyed the most was how we both had on sweat and damp clothing from our workouts: I had set out for my many rounds of heavy bag kicks, knees and core work while he gave his body away to monstrous giant sets. But our funks didn’t matter. I believe it’s what gave us another beautiful edge.
And I allowed him freely to massage my breasts together from above fabric while he rubbed my fiery nipples. Then every now and again he would pull me in by the waist as my hands rubbed on his towering chest pinching his nipples from both over and under his shirt. Then our hands made its way below the waist where he placed my hand on his member and his hands went under my sweat pants above my panty where he played with my clitoris and soothe me by cupping half my face along with words and making “mmming” sounds when he enjoyed my reactions.
Continuing the heat of the moment I unleashed my breasts from the bottom side of the bra as he said he wanted me to cum for him. But I was scared and paranoid after hours at the gym where I work when his head dropped quickly to lick my nipple in wonderful fashion. I held onto his bald head for a moment and squirmed for the next.
And in the beauty of this kissing session on the bench, in the dark weight room with one office light on in the corner for slight moonlighting I couldn’t finish what I started and than somehow I got up and went to spot him on the same bench. I continued to watch him work his ass off while whispering to myself how I need to be on his elite training level.
We broke night, walked many blocks around the chilly city, stared at architectural designs and eventually enjoyed each other’s company and laughter from the heart at a diner eating breakfast.
But that bench, those kisses and him, felt eternal just like the power of the present.