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thinkfeelwrite · 11 months

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FEEDBACK (was the original title for a writing course I once did. Am reposting because I need to start somewhere but Im cringing but would also sort of appreciate feedback)

Feedback is judgement. Feedback is fear. Feedback is Failure. Feedback is shame. Feedback is the paralysis of all hope. It is the execution of excitement about my stupid doomed dreams. Feedback is the death of me.

Examples of excruciating feedback experiences and endurances that prove my point

Having to do a personality assessment test whilst at college. Answered it honestly, although I had no idea who I was back then…so did I really answer it honestly?. The feedback said that I was either a psychopath or a genius.

Remembering all the OCD type actions I had to do before lesson observations by senior members of staff whilst I was a teacher. Praying the same prayer over and over in the car until I got to the school. “Please don’t make me fail, please don’t make me fail, please don’t make me fail. Amen’ The exhausting and tortuous repetition of actions that if not done would completely mean crushingly negative feedback. No wonder I was so exhausted post assessment as the adrenalin wore off.

Feedback from the kids I taught. Their feedback can be the worst. You’re not really a proper person to them if they don’t like you, which in their minds translates to ‘I can destroy you with my actions and my words’. I don’t hold any ill feeling towards those that did destroy me though. It was all my fault. I can still envisage my voice dissipating into the air as I tried to teach some of them. Like making the motion of speech but with no sound. It was when I realised I was becoming partly invisible

Ofsted inspections for someone like me with serious confidence issues. Utterly terrifying

Deciding to leave teaching ten years ago and witnessing the changing feedback from people as the years have worn on. Initial understanding and sympathy breaking down into seeing you as a life loser as you struggle to find something else to do.

Presentations. Having to do a presentation after ‘Brain Boy’ had done his. Brain boy was the cleverest person on my university course.I wonder what he is doing now? Anyhow he did this amazing, astute, confident presentation… and then it was my turn. Even my best friend who was sat next to me said it was actually painful to endure. I was so shy and nervy, I couldn’t breathe and so couldn’t talk. Looking back I can see that I had a sort of panic attack. Someone should have taken me aside. The feedback was…

A few years later I had to do another presentation. God help me I filled my water bottle with gin and drank it whilst waiting to do my presentation. I honestly can’t say how it went. There was a lot of laughter, that’s all I remember but I also recollect that the tutor was called out just as I started mine. That had to be divine intervention. Im not sure if anyone could see that I was drinking. How drunk was I? This was probably my worst experience. You’ll never meet me so i can tell you about it. Not many people know about it. I’m too ashamed. Someone should have taken me aside

Being told by your successful Asian father that you are a disappointment as you didn’t become a doctor like him but also being told its ok because you have children and they’re a lot of work.

Trying to become an artist and doing quite well and loving it, although NOT making any money. Feedback from Father: Being asked by your father if you are making any money from doing your art. Giving up on the art.

Trying to learn about Ayurveda at a high level, thinking about practising it. Bemusement from father at ‘you and your ayurveda’. Can feel myself withdrawing from my interest in ayurveda.

My own running commentary feedback on my life. My daily feedback: Middle aged. Getting older. Weak minded. Confused. Really confused. Lost opportunities. Missed opportunities. Unable to focus. Unable to work out what i want to do. Not being able to do what I want to do. Heavy thoughts weighing down my whole body like an anchor at the bottom of the ocean. Full of regrets. Living a fantasy life. Escaping to my fantasy life. Stereotypical middle aged person who will soon be old and covered in dust in the corner of the room and in the corner of people lives. Crying. Staring. Loser. Bored with my own negativity. Wondering if my negativity is a safety blanket keeping me still, unheard, unseen. Wearing more makeup to cover up Wondering if there is a magical solution to life misery

I need a cup of tea now. This is awful. I hope you don’t feel awful. Bet you want to walk away and make tea too now. Sorry

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fragilestflower · 2 years

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After a long day of work in the summer heat, the last thing I wanted to come home to was a party.

It was my roommates birthday, however, so I couldn’t be upset at the small crowd of strangers enjoying music loud enough to make the house shake. We had discovered that the rooms were almost soundproof when we had first moved in together though, which was an absolute blessing.

I was greeted with a chorus of shouts and people telling me to join in on the fun, especially my roommate, who was already more drinks in than he could probably handle. It was late, however, and all I wanted to do was strip out of my work clothes, shower, and pass out in my bed. Politely refusing any drinks and slowly weaving my way through the crowd should have been easy-until I was in front of her.

It was no secret that I had always been attracted to her-but who wasn’t? She was a full foot shorter than myself, and the skin-tight shorts and black tank top she was wearing only highlighted her fit body. My thoughts went immediately from showering to other, more intimate ideas, especially when trying to look her in the eyes turned into a quick glance just a bit lower.

She smiled in a knowing way. “Aren’t you going to stay for at least one drink?” She asked sweetly. Was it just my imagination, or did she arch her back to give me a better view down her tank top?

“I...I mean...” I stammered, trying to form some sting of words to form a sentence. Her grin only widened as she grabbed at my shirt, tugging me along to the kitchen table where a ridiculous amount of alcohol and mixers were on display. She put down the red cup

In her hand, mixed something up (was she bending that way on purpose, or did her ass just look that good all the time?), turned and handed it to me. I took a tentative sip and found it tasted amazing, but heavy on the vodka. I nodded my approval. “Strong, but enjoyable,” I said, proud I could make a sentence while my mind wasn’t entirely focused on words. We spent the next few minutes chatting about random things-work, cars, eventually making our way to talk about relationships. My heart skipped a beat when she mentioned she was enjoying being single at a party, a detail I managed to hang onto. After my cup was empty, she didn’t even give me time to protest before taking it and refilling it. On top of everything, she was a bartender, and a damn good one at that.

As she was getting a refill, I became distinctly aware that I was still in work clothes, and that my body was starting to protest not being showered or in bed. I worked my way over to the bar, tentatively putting a hand on the small of her back-which wasn’t easy as her black hair went right down to her ass. The fact that she jumped, inadvertently making my hand go lower, was a mixed blessing.

When she turned around though, I lost my breath for a second. She had spilled some of what she was making on her top; if ever there was a clear winner for a wet t-shirt contest, it would forever be her.

“I’m so sorry!” I gasped. “I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s not a big deal,” she interrupted. “But if you have a shirt I could borrow...”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied. “My room is just down the hall.”

I turned and started weaving my way through people, with her following close behind. It wasn’t easy being coordinated though-being a lightweight meant I was a cheap date but also had its disadvantages. Once we got through the crowd and down the emptier hall, she hooked her arm around mine, providing some semblance of balance.

“I guess I was a little heavy-handed with that first drink of yours” she laughed. I felt my cheeks burning a bit, and let it be. I fumbled for a minute with my room keys once we got to the door, but managed to open it without looking like a total drunken idiot.

Most of my room was taken up with a queen-sized bed, with barely enough room for the dresser and desk to fit. I pulled open the top drawer and searched for a shirt that wasn’t too old, pulled it out, turned and handed it to her, apologizing again.

She laughed it off, saying “now turn around. I don’t want you getting any funny ideas...” her coy smile left me with a sensation that traveled up and down my spine, and in my less than sober state I spun around and stared at the ceiling. I could hear her peel the soaked tank top off, and every part of me was screaming to turn around, but I somehow managed to hold off. Instead, i managed to find the mindset of searching for fresh clothes to get ready for bed, and a clean towel left on top of the dresser. I felt a hand on my arm and turned around.

She wasn’t topless-and I was both happy and sorely disappointed at that-but the shirt she had on was almost comically large for her. She was covered all the way down past her shorts, making it look like the only thing she had on. The pout on her face said it all, so I turned around and dug out a white tank top that no longer fit me. Her pout turned into a grin, and she made a circular motion with her finger, which I respectfully obliged. I got no small shock when the shirt I had first given her was thrown on top of my head. Without thinking, I pulled it off my head and turned around.

She had just pulled the tank over her breasts, but it left very little to the imagination. I took a deep breath, which she noticed, and again she smiled almost mischievously. She squeezed her arms tight, pushing the front of the top to a limit that left me wordless. I stammered and reached for the towel, trying to focus on more than just breathing and staring. She noticed my pitiful effort, and her smile only widened.

“Go shower.” It was a command, and at this point I was almost hypnotized, so I simply nodded and gathered the things I needed. Before I managed to walk out of the room, however, she added, “...and I’ll be waiting when you come back.” Her eyes had taken on a new look, one that was both devious and promising something more primal. Not even remotely able to question my luck, I rushed out the door and to the bathroom right next to my bedroom.

I tore my clothes off, still not entirely coordinated and focused more on what may be the luckiest night of my life coming up. I half wondered as I turned the water to blazing hot if I was simply imagining things. Almost as soon as I stepped into the shower though, my thoughts became less focused as a blast of heat hit me. I let out a sigh of relief as I soaked in the water, allowing the muscles in my back to relax. As I turned to face the water, drawing another “ahhh” from me, I heard the bathroom door open.

One of the great perks of the apartment was that my roommate and I had separate bathrooms, and an agreement that any guests would use his, as it was closer to the door. I opened my mouth to protest, but before the frustration could form words a voice cut me off.

“Oops. I didn’t want to wait.”

The words caught in my throat as she pushed aside the shower curtains and came into the shower, fully undressed.

Turns out I wasn’t dreaming.

Her hands found my hips, and with her eyes not leaving mine she guided herself around me. Her leg brushed the inside of my thigh, and I would have bet the entire party could have heard me try to swallow. As she let go, fully immersing herself in the water, I gazed at her. While I had thought her outfit had left little to the imagination, that was before she had stepped into the shower. Now my head was swimming with thoughts and ideas while there was still some blood rushing to my brain as opposed to other areas. I watched as she soaked her whole body, running her hands through her hair, her eyes closed and her body only inches away from mine. The shower now felt almost cold compared to the heat coming off of my own body.

She finished getting herself wet from head to foot, opened her eyes and locked them with mine. There was more than simple lust in that look. I felt more like a piece of meat she was going to devour than a man trying desperately to keep his legs from shaking in excitement. She looked around, finding the body soap I used, before taking a pump and running it around in her hands. She closed the distance, her breast suddenly pressed against my stomach, and breathed “you, are so...dirty.”

My legs betrayed my thoughts, trembling at the effort.

As she started lathering you my body, her gaze softened, from one of carnal desire to one more passionate. She worked her way from my neck down, covering me with the soap in a soft but firm determination. As she moved to my chest, and down to my stomach, my legs tightened, and as she worked her way down to my hips a sigh escaped from my pressed lips, with my head tilting up. Her pawing at my hip brought my attention down, only to find her on her knees expectantly.

I won’t claim to be the largest guy-I never had any reason to measure myself-but compared to her my dick looked massive. I could barely focus on standing while she cleaned me; to stop an erection would have been futile.

She stared directly into my eyes again, that passionate look taking a slight edge of something more, as she started with my balls in one hand. That gaze plainly told me not to look away, another command that I was helpless to follow. As she used both her hands to slowly lather and stroke my cock-not with the intention of pleasure, but to clean me-I couldn’t help but put my hand on her face. She smiled, a passionate, affectionate one, and kissed my hand, her grip tightening only slightly but noticeably. She soon finished, moving her hands up and down my ass and legs, but her face seemed to move every closer to my cock. I stopped focusing on my legs and instead bent my will on not twitching in anticipation.

As she finished, she stood up, that mischievous look creeping back into her gaze. She put a hand on my chest and gently pushed me back beyond the water, at the edge of her reach. She then took another pump of body soap and proceeded to lather herself up. I instinctively took a step forward, but she wagged a finger at me, clearly saying that this was her show.

She took her time lathering her entire body, cupping her breasts, slowly winding her hands down her stomach, and turning around to give me a clear view as she worked. Somehow, the ability to watch but not touch was intoxicating, sending me to a new level of excitement that even stopped my legs from shaking. As she turned to the water and rinsed off, her smile taking one one of joy, I could no longer resist and stepped forward, my body bumping into hers. Her gasp was one of half-genuine surprise, followed by “I was wondering how long it would take you.” Her hands reached behind her and grabbed at my hips, slowly shaking her ass on my hardened cock, first back and forth before going up and down. Another sigh of pleasure escaped my lips, and even with my eyes closed I could sense her grinning.

When she turned around, she took a step back, her hands again working up and down my body to help rinse off the soap. As she worked her way down, she again went to her knees, and again her hands wrapped around my cock. This time though, her stroked were slower, her grip tighter. I opened my eyes and looked down at her, but her gaze was focused in front of her. That primal look had come back in her eyes, a hunger shown by biting her lip and a singular focus. My hand went down to her chin, breaking her concentration as I lifted her face up for a kiss. That one kiss turned into several, her lips conveying her desperate desire, all the while slowly stroking, before she pushed my face away and wrapped her lips around the head. I was left breathless, my one hand wrapping around her hair while the other sought some sort of handhold. She slowly started taking more of me into her mouth, bit by bit, even gagging herself once or twice. I couldn’t expect her to talk all of me-I never said I was big, but by no means would I consider myself small-but every time her head bobbed forward I couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure with the occasional “oh god, yes” escaping me. One of her hands was grabbing my ass, while the other reached down, pleasuring herself. I swear I could feel her moaning with my cock in her mouth, which made me rock my hips forward more than once.

Then suddenly, her mouth came off of my throbbing cock, with her eyes meeting mine. I almost drowned in the lust and need that look conveyed, as she said breathlessly, “I need you.”

Her hands again pushed me back, rising off of her knees and almost leaping into me as her lips locked with mine. Her hands were everywhere, stroking my ass, legs and back, gripping the back of my neck and hair. Her legs were wrapped around me, and I grabbed her ass and pushed her back against the shower wall. My lips wandered down to her neck and collar, and I could hear her sigh in pleasure. I kissed, sucked and nipped everywhere my mouth could find, while I slipped one hand in between her legs, drawing a much higher gasp of surprise and joy from her. Now lost in herself, her sighs and moans now we’re whispered in my ear as he legs rocked around me.

“I want you ready for me,” I said as I nipped her ear.

“I am...” she begged, and it was so true. “I’ve wanted this,” she started, and had to stop as she gasped, “for, so long...”

And then she said the magic word that turned every sense and reason from my mind.

“Please...” it was everything-a request from a woman begging in the deep desire, a command coming from someone who was not used to being controlled, and a lazy desperate attempt to maintain some of that control. I wanted to tease her longer, to once again hear that desperate plea, but she grabbed my hand, pulled it towards her lips, sucking on her own juices, and I could not resist as her hand slid back down and lined me up perfectly.

If her mouth has been pleasure, this was nothing short of ecstasy. As much as my body wanted nothing more than to slide as deep as possible inside her, i managed to slow my pace, taking my time. She moaned every time I slipped further inside her-she was small, and wet, and wrapped around me perfectly.

The first time I slipped my entire cock inside her, she cried out, and I thought I had gone too far or too fast for her, but when she started rocking her hips it told me differently. I started driving her back into the wall, barely hanging on to the idea to take my time. Her hand snakes back down in between her legs, fingering herself and making her moans louder. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if the party could hear this, but the rest of me couldn’t care less. My hands gripped her ass right as I started to pick up the pace, trying to match her frantic one with mine. I could feel her legs start to shake, and her moans began mixing with breathless gasps, with the occasional mindless babble of a woman totally lost in pleasure. Her hips rocked back and forth, and her breasts matched the motion, only driving me further.

Her noises started taking on a higher pitch, and her body started a rhythm that was only all the clearer when she half-moaned “I’m close...oh god I’m soooo close...” her eyes were closed and her head tilted back, riding every wave of pleasure with abandon. Her cries suddenly turned frantic, and I could feel her construct around me as her eyes snapped open to stare me in the eyes and demand, “cum for me.”

Without a word, I went from trying to control my pace to a mindless desire to fuck her through the wall. As she writhed around me, her lips found my ear, biting and begging over and over “cum for me, oh god yes cum for me...”

As I felt that pressure building up, coming close to that final release, my lips found the base of her neck as I lost that final layer of control. I moaned into her body, legs jerking and trying to remain upright as every fiber of my being felt like it was leaving me. What felt like hours passed; more than once my eyes rolled back into my head and I almost blacked out. When the waves subsided and it was finally over, I managed to push myself up to look back in her eyes. There was a somewhat glazed look to her, still enjoying the rigorous pleasure, but her smile was genuine and filled with as passion as satisfaction.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for YEARS,” she breathed. Her face cupped mine and she kissed me. Somehow that kiss was different from the passion and lust that had just consumed them.

“You’re not the only one,” I replied, trying to catch my own breath now that my body was returning from that primal mindset.

She set about cleaning both of us again-I was thankful that our water was still hot-and was extra gentle while soaking and rinsing me. When she was finished, she looked up and laughed, “ so you mind if I stay the night? I wouldn’t mind waking you up...” that lustful look crept back into her eyes.

My mind wanted what my body could not accomplish, and I said with confidence, “who to say I won’t wake you up?”

Her eyebrow perked, and she nodded, silently accepted the challenge. We dried off and made our way to my bedroom, oblivious to the world around us, and collapsed in my bed. I fell asleep almost instantly, but my last conscious thoughts were at how a fantasy had somehow turned to reality.

Jesus fucking Christ. I feel like I should pay you for that orgasm.

I can’t even explain what that just did to me. I feel like I know I who did this but I’m gonna have to beg to find out. Guess we will see.

#answered asks #holy wow #write to me

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