Hunger...I hunger for so much that I am often overwhelmed by my need. These days it has become more difficult not to give into the hunger. Like the old adage beauty is in the eye of the beholder, the hunger is in the psyche of the person. Each person's hunger differs from another, two people may have a similar hunger but how much it controls them and how they satisfy it is never the same.
My hunger is both emotional and psychological as well as physical. My needs sustain me-they give me purpose. I am like others though...I have that need to love and be loved, to feed and to grow, to create and destroy. I am not sure why I am trying to define it when all I know is that is it as much a part of me as breathing is to others.
I look at the clock and sigh knowing that it is time to get dressed and begin the hunt to quench my hunger. Laying my brush on the vanity, I peer into the mirror maybe hoping to see a glance of what I used to be instead of the empty shell devoid of emotions that I have become. The only thing I see is the faint shadows under my eyes and the paleness of my skin.
I stand up moving towards the closet trying to plan the perfect outfit. We have become such a status defined society-how we dress, where we live, what car we drive and who we know takes precedence over what we really are. However I am just as guilty since I play the game too well now.
Hmmm...The black leather mini skirt with the white tank top and the cropped black leather jacket should suffice for my hunt for love tonight. I toss the outfit on my bad then walk to my chest of drawers. Opening the top drawer, I peer inside looking for the perfect lingerie. I look back over my shoulder at the chosen outfit of the night.
Something with garters...
I casually toss a black leather teddy on the bed with a pair of black garter stockings with seams up the back. Looking back into the drawer I shrug then shut it knowing that panties aren't needed for what I have planned for the night. I stop lost in thought for a moment trying to figure out if this is the best course of action. After all this way is much more dangerous then I smile slightly thinking that the risk taking just makes it all the more arousing.
I softly bite my bottom lip as the first wave of arousal flows through me. Closing my eyes, I run my hands up my thighs, over my stomach, gliding over my breasts then touching my face-caressing my face trying to memorize every detail and finally through my hair. I arch my back swept over by the tide of sensations, losing myself completely in them, letting it linger for as long as possible. Then I open my eyes smiling at my own reflection knowing that the predator that I am becoming tonight is armed and ready. Looking back towards the bed, catch a glimpse of the white tank top...
Too virginal and pure...
I think for what I am planning tonight. Now maybe if I was meeting a church choir it would fit in better but for what I have planned, it simply won't work. Moving towards the closet again, I then pull out the black lacey see-through tank top. I carefully appraise it then smirk in satisfaction and toss it onto the bed. Now the outfit is complete and as I look at the outfit, I begin to feel a twinge of something almost like a conscience. Frowning slightly in annoyance, I quickly stifle the urge knowing that it was a part of me that I killed a long time ago. Reflecting momentarily on that thought almost kills the hunter's urge but the hunger drives me back into my persona of the night.
I pick the bottle of my favorite perfume up off the vanity and dab it on my neck, behind my ears, along my arms and behind my knees. Smiling slightly I think how the name is so fitting-Obsession. My hunger has become the obsession of my life-it has taken complete control of it but I know there surely are worse things. I set the bottle down and critically look at my naked body in the mirror then slowly smile. I am aging very well even if I do say so myself in fact it is almost as if time has stopped for me. Then again maybe in some strange way it has.
Moving to the bed, I grab the leather teddy and slide it on slowly. I smile thinking how much I love the feel of leather against my skin. There is nothing that feels as sensual as pure leather directly on the skin- whether it be clothing or straps or just wearing leather thigh boots with nothing else. Leather gives me the biggest sense of power like I walk above all the cattle that are content to graze in their nothingness. I then sit on the bed slowly pulling up one stocking and attaching it to the garters then putting the other one on and pulling it up. I let my hands trace the contour of my leg revelling in the sensuality. Letting a moan of pleasure escape my lips, I then hook the stocking to the other garters. I reach behind me grabbing the lacey tank top and slide it over my head then steps into my skirt tugging it over my hips. Tucking the tank top into my skirt I zip the skirt then walk over to the mirror studying my reflection for any imperfections. I smooth the tank top over my breasts and next move my hands over my rear making sure that it hangs just right.
I move back to the closet and withdraw a large box with the lid tightly on it, turn and move back to my vanity sitting down. With a slight smile of anticipation I pull the lid off of the box and gaze inside at one of my favorite possessions. I remember searching stores for weeks looking for the perfect ones-I gently pull on out and put it on. As I zip it up, I admire the texture and the angles then I put the other one on and stand up checking my reflection once again. I turn to the left and then to the right deciding that my spiked heel mid-thigh boots help me pull off my predatorial image. Smiling, I think those little fishes better stay away or I will eat them alive-heart, soul, and body. Of course then again that may not be so horrible after all-it would be the perfect way to die. At least dying with a smile.