(X-rated) August 5, 2023:
My food bag had a beetle stuck to it and I tried hard to get it off, but it’s velcro-like legs were locked to it. I asked John Doe to help him gently remove him, to which he ripped him off, his legs now gone.
“What the fuck, John!” I yelled, “I said gently!”
We laughed and then I went to bring the beetle outside and prayed that its legs would grow back, the same way a gecko’s would if its tail got snipped.
I felt my spirits were high today. I actually felt confident that I could see Voodoo without making it into such a big deal in my mind. I started hitchhiking towards Portland, ME, since that was where we planned to meet up.
I loved being on the road again. As I had my thumb out, I sort of began to lose the desire to get a straight shot ride all the way to Tennessee. It was convenient, but it didn’t feel as fun for me. It wasn’t about how fast I got there, it was about the people I met and the adventures I had along the way.
The first guy who picked me up went by the name Charlie. He owned his own motel and pointed it out to me as we drove by. He seemed to have a big stutter, claiming to have had it for 44 years. He apologized for being unable to form a sentence fast enough.
We sat in silence for a minute, then I said, “I had a huge stutter for several years growing up. Most people that know me now can’t believe it, but it’s true.”
I expressed to him how it was part of the reason I felt inspired to start living this way. I figured it would help me get accustomed to talking to people and would help me grow more confident as I moved through any sense of embarrassment/shyness.
Afterwards, I got picked up by an ex-military guy who took me all the way to Westbrook which was my end destination for today. He drove me almost two hours! He was super chill and respectful. I ended up getting there an hour early. I always found it funny how I hitched to meet up with people and yet I still showed up before them.
As I waited in the parking lot of Starbucks, Voodoo rolled up in a rusty blue van and honked his horn. The sound reminded me of a clown or some sort of ice cream truck. It made me cringe. Regardless of that, first thing I did when I saw him was run up to him. He stepped out of the car, appearing sweaty and as if he hadn’t showered, to which I pulled him in close. He smiled and told me he didn’t brush his teeth. I told him I didn’t care. He pushed me up against his van and began to make out with me.
The thoughts that were running through my mind at that moment were about how happy I was to be able to kiss him, but how I lost the desire to play this game we were playing. The one where he seemingly pushed me away, I left, he sweet talked me, we reunited, we kissed, we made up. I wanted stability, not whatever that was.
I could feel how sweaty he was and I wanted a taste of his cock right then and there. We laid my mat out in the back of his van. It didn’t matter to me that we would be making love on the floor of his dirty beat up van in the heat of the day. As long as I had him, I really didn’t care about clean sheets or a comfy bed. I often preferred the moments when it wasn’t so perfect or comfortable, but more spontaneous and off-putting.
I got on my knees and blew him—my eyes immediately expanded with lust. I absolutely loved taking him in my mouth… if only he would’ve let me do it all the time, I would’ve spoiled the shit out of him. I got on top of him and slid him in. God, his cock felt like no other. Absolute ecstasy. I let him in all the way, not fighting back. As I was riding him, I could feel him growing inside of me. He flipped me onto my back so he could go harder and deeper. The windows were open so people could sneak a peek or have a listen. My eyes rolled back in ecstasy as I became completely lost in sensation. He made me squirt everywhere as my cum collected into my switchback mat like an ice tray.
Everything about him tasted so good… the way he looked at me felt so connecting… the way he penetrated me felt so filling… but, it felt different. Something about seeing him off the trail felt like it made me view him in a different light. It felt like I was seeing through him and the mask he had been wearing.
After we finished, we started driving south again and, eventually, I laid down on the floor of the van.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a bed back there,” he said, “you probably can’t sleep with all the noise.”
“No, it’s actually quite soothing for me,” I said.
He told me there was a rope swing nearby where we could so swimming. I didn’t respond. I noticed I was normally a very adventurous person, but not with him. I didn’t feel like doing certain things with him or adventuring in ways that I normally would with others.
As I laid there for a few hours, something just felt so energetically off again. I could feel my guidance and intuition screaming at me that I was only self-sabotaging myself by being with him… by letting my guard down around him. There were so many things in our relationship that felt like jabs to my heart and I had these gut wrenching feelings that kept coming up. I could sense things were occurring that I didn’t even know anything about, yet I would get these painful nudges that implied I would leave the moment I knew. I could just intuitively feel things even though I had no physical evidence on the surface to prove it. It was just my heart’s inner knowing and my Angels showing me through the feeling sensations of lack and discomfort.
And with Voodoo, I was specifically getting a strong screaming sensation of that feeling, as if my Spirit Guide was saying, “If you knew what he was doing behind your back, you wouldn’t give him the time of day.”
I often viewed the power of my intuition as a blessing and a curse. I guess it was more-so a ‘gift.’ In the end, we all were energetic beings who possessed this gift, I just found myself extremely in tune with it ever since I was a little kid.
I specifically recalled numerous times in past relationships where I was accused of being ‘crazy’ for calling out something that simply ‘felt off’ while having zero evidence to prove my reasoning.
I justified it by saying things like, “I know you’re saying this isn’t the case and that you’re not doing these specific things, but I can just feel that your energy isn’t in alignment with your words. Something just doesn’t feel right.”
I would often find myself leaving relationships over a feeling sense, only to later find out the very things I felt off about ended up being a reality. The truth would always be revealed and brought to the surface, sometimes years later. It often scared me because I felt alone in that power I seemed to hold, and with him specifically, it could not feel any more blatant.
Voodoo stopped at a rest stop, then hopped in the back because I really wanted him to finger me. In other words, I really wanted to distract myself. The thoughts felt so loud. The feelings felt so overwhelming. I actually loathed how wet he made me and how easily he could make me cum. It seemed it was effortless for him and I never even had to teach him.
Laying down, I would look at him and my cum would just start dripping between my ass cheeks as he began touching me. My body fully shaking, my bottom lip quivering. I wished my body could just shut off this addictive feeling I had built up for him.
After he made me cum, he stuck his fingers further into my pussy to feel what he did to me, then slid his rock hard cock in. He had me right where he wanted me.
“Mmm, I love stretching you out,” he moaned.
Normally his cock would hurt to take, but I wasn’t fighting back anymore. I was able to handle it.
“You’re mine now,” he said.
“I’ve always been,” I whispered.
For a moment I forgot what it felt like to be in that blissful sensation of his cock penetrating me. While we were apart I felt I was going through withdrawals and now, it felt even better than ever. But, for the first time I wondered to myself if it could feel even better if I actually felt emotionally safe with him.
After we finished, we got out of the van to get some fresh air. Some drunk guy approached us and started complimenting Voodoo’s van setup.
“Thanks, man,” Voodoo said, “this ole girl is gonna need some love and affection by the time I get done with her.”
He was talking about an inanimate object.
What about me? I thought to myself, Does he ever think that way about me?
Eventually, we all got into a playful argument because Voodoo told the guy we were on our way to Tennessee and listed off what states we still had to pass through. The guy convinced himself that Tennessee was in Florida and that we had to drive through Georgia to get there. We told him we just hiked the Appalachian Trail and we knew for sure which states we had to go through, but the man still argued. Even when we showed him the map, it still didn’t do him justice.
Then, they started making jokes about women and Voodoo points at me and goes, “She hates girls! Can you believe that?! RED FLAG!”
As he said that, I noticed a defensive energy arise within me while a visual list of all my female friends scrolled through my mind. I looked confused and caught off guard as I had never once said that I ‘hated women.’ I gave a standoffish look as they continued to gang up on me.
The guy points at me and yells, “She has trust issues!”
They both started laughing and I felt extremely triggered as if I was being pushed into a corner. I had a hard time ‘joking around’ when there was a clear jab behind what was being said. I did not perceive that as humor.
When we got back in the van, Voodoo asked if I was okay and before he could finish his sentence I said, “No. No I am not. I do have girl friends and, even if I didn’t, how would that be a red flag?”
He looked at me as though upset that I couldn’t take what he perceived as a joke.
“But then it’s okay that you only like talking to women and not men,” I continued, “how is that not a red flag? It just feels like a double standard.”
He kissed me and said he didn’t want to fight. Anytime I called him out on his bullshit, it somehow meant I was trying to fight, but what I was really looking for was compassion and empathy for what I was feeling. He was starting to become emasculated in my eyes. A true man to me felt like someone whom I could trust to speak kind words to and about me, especially in front of me. A true man would hold space for me when I was experiencing a deep sense of hurt. My emotional reactions were revealing to him that I didn’t feel safe in his presence, but he couldn’t take a step back and recognize that.
I hopped in the back and he came to lay down beside me and said, “I’m so happy I got to see you again. I just want to be around you.”
I felt energetically confirmed to the depth of my core that I would be better off without him.
My food bag had a beetle stuck to it and I tried hard to get it off, but it’s velcro-like legs were locked to it. I asked John Doe to help him gently remove him, to which he ripped him off, his legs now gone.
“What the fuck, John!” I yelled, “I said gently!”
We laughed and then I went to bring the beetle outside and prayed that its legs would grow back, the same way a gecko’s would if its tail got snipped.
I felt my spirits were high today. I actually felt confident that I could see Voodoo without making it into such a big deal in my mind. I started hitchhiking towards Portland, ME, since that was where we planned to meet up.
I loved being on the road again. As I had my thumb out, I sort of began to lose the desire to get a straight shot ride all the way to Tennessee. It was convenient, but it didn’t feel as fun for me. It wasn’t about how fast I got there, it was about the people I met and the adventures I had along the way.
The first guy who picked me up went by the name Charlie. He owned his own motel and pointed it out to me as we drove by. He seemed to have a big stutter, claiming to have had it for 44 years. He apologized for being unable to form a sentence fast enough.
We sat in silence for a minute, then I said, “I had a huge stutter for several years growing up. Most people that know me now can’t believe it, but it’s true.”
I expressed to him how it was part of the reason I felt inspired to start living this way. I figured it would help me get accustomed to talking to people and would help me grow more confident as I moved through any sense of embarrassment/shyness.
Afterwards, I got picked up by an ex-military guy who took me all the way to Westbrook which was my end destination for today. He drove me almost two hours! He was super chill and respectful. I ended up getting there an hour early. I always found it funny how I hitched to meet up with people and yet I still showed up before them.
As I waited in the parking lot of Starbucks, Voodoo rolled up in a rusty blue van and honked his horn. The sound reminded me of a clown or some sort of ice cream truck. It made me cringe. Regardless of that, first thing I did when I saw him was run up to him. He stepped out of the car, appearing sweaty and as if he hadn’t showered, to which I pulled him in close. He smiled and told me he didn’t brush his teeth. I told him I didn’t care. He pushed me up against his van and began to make out with me.
The thoughts that were running through my mind at that moment were about how happy I was to be able to kiss him, but how I lost the desire to play this game we were playing. The one where he seemingly pushed me away, I left, he sweet talked me, we reunited, we kissed, we made up. I wanted stability, not whatever that was.
I could feel how sweaty he was and I wanted a taste of his cock right then and there. We laid my mat out in the back of his van. It didn’t matter to me that we would be making love on the floor of his dirty beat up van in the heat of the day. As long as I had him, I really didn’t care about clean sheets or a comfy bed. I often preferred the moments when it wasn’t so perfect or comfortable, but more spontaneous and off-putting.
I got on my knees and blew him—my eyes immediately expanded with lust. I absolutely loved taking him in my mouth… if only he would’ve let me do it all the time, I would’ve spoiled the shit out of him. I got on top of him and slid him in. God, his cock felt like no other. Absolute ecstasy. I let him in all the way, not fighting back. As I was riding him, I could feel him growing inside of me. He flipped me onto my back so he could go harder and deeper. The windows were open so people could sneak a peek or have a listen. My eyes rolled back in ecstasy as I became completely lost in sensation. He made me squirt everywhere as my cum collected into my switchback mat like an ice tray.
Everything about him tasted so good… the way he looked at me felt so connecting… the way he penetrated me felt so filling… but, it felt different. Something about seeing him off the trail felt like it made me view him in a different light. It felt like I was seeing through him and the mask he had been wearing.
After we finished, we started driving south again and, eventually, I laid down on the floor of the van.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a bed back there,” he said, “you probably can’t sleep with all the noise.”
“No, it’s actually quite soothing for me,” I said.
He told me there was a rope swing nearby where we could so swimming. I didn’t respond. I noticed I was normally a very adventurous person, but not with him. I didn’t feel like doing certain things with him or adventuring in ways that I normally would with others.
As I laid there for a few hours, something just felt so energetically off again. I could feel my guidance and intuition screaming at me that I was only self-sabotaging myself by being with him… by letting my guard down around him. There were so many things in our relationship that felt like jabs to my heart and I had these gut wrenching feelings that kept coming up. I could sense things were occurring that I didn’t even know anything about, yet I would get these painful nudges that implied I would leave the moment I knew. I could just intuitively feel things even though I had no physical evidence on the surface to prove it. It was just my heart’s inner knowing and my Angels showing me through the feeling sensations of lack and discomfort.
And with Voodoo, I was specifically getting a strong screaming sensation of that feeling, as if my Spirit Guide was saying, “If you knew what he was doing behind your back, you wouldn’t give him the time of day.”
I often viewed the power of my intuition as a blessing and a curse. I guess it was more-so a ‘gift.’ In the end, we all were energetic beings who possessed this gift, I just found myself extremely in tune with it ever since I was a little kid.
I specifically recalled numerous times in past relationships where I was accused of being ‘crazy’ for calling out something that simply ‘felt off’ while having zero evidence to prove my reasoning.
I justified it by saying things like, “I know you’re saying this isn’t the case and that you’re not doing these specific things, but I can just feel that your energy isn’t in alignment with your words. Something just doesn’t feel right.”
I would often find myself leaving relationships over a feeling sense, only to later find out the very things I felt off about ended up being a reality. The truth would always be revealed and brought to the surface, sometimes years later. It often scared me because I felt alone in that power I seemed to hold, and with him specifically, it could not feel any more blatant.
Voodoo stopped at a rest stop, then hopped in the back because I really wanted him to finger me. In other words, I really wanted to distract myself. The thoughts felt so loud. The feelings felt so overwhelming. I actually loathed how wet he made me and how easily he could make me cum. It seemed it was effortless for him and I never even had to teach him.
Laying down, I would look at him and my cum would just start dripping between my ass cheeks as he began touching me. My body fully shaking, my bottom lip quivering. I wished my body could just shut off this addictive feeling I had built up for him.
After he made me cum, he stuck his fingers further into my pussy to feel what he did to me, then slid his rock hard cock in. He had me right where he wanted me.
“Mmm, I love stretching you out,” he moaned.
Normally his cock would hurt to take, but I wasn’t fighting back anymore. I was able to handle it.
“You’re mine now,” he said.
“I’ve always been,” I whispered.
For a moment I forgot what it felt like to be in that blissful sensation of his cock penetrating me. While we were apart I felt I was going through withdrawals and now, it felt even better than ever. But, for the first time I wondered to myself if it could feel even better if I actually felt emotionally safe with him.
After we finished, we got out of the van to get some fresh air. Some drunk guy approached us and started complimenting Voodoo’s van setup.
“Thanks, man,” Voodoo said, “this ole girl is gonna need some love and affection by the time I get done with her.”
He was talking about an inanimate object.
What about me? I thought to myself, Does he ever think that way about me?
Eventually, we all got into a playful argument because Voodoo told the guy we were on our way to Tennessee and listed off what states we still had to pass through. The guy convinced himself that Tennessee was in Florida and that we had to drive through Georgia to get there. We told him we just hiked the Appalachian Trail and we knew for sure which states we had to go through, but the man still argued. Even when we showed him the map, it still didn’t do him justice.
Then, they started making jokes about women and Voodoo points at me and goes, “She hates girls! Can you believe that?! RED FLAG!”
As he said that, I noticed a defensive energy arise within me while a visual list of all my female friends scrolled through my mind. I looked confused and caught off guard as I had never once said that I ‘hated women.’ I gave a standoffish look as they continued to gang up on me.
The guy points at me and yells, “She has trust issues!”
They both started laughing and I felt extremely triggered as if I was being pushed into a corner. I had a hard time ‘joking around’ when there was a clear jab behind what was being said. I did not perceive that as humor.
When we got back in the van, Voodoo asked if I was okay and before he could finish his sentence I said, “No. No I am not. I do have girl friends and, even if I didn’t, how would that be a red flag?”
He looked at me as though upset that I couldn’t take what he perceived as a joke.
“But then it’s okay that you only like talking to women and not men,” I continued, “how is that not a red flag? It just feels like a double standard.”
He kissed me and said he didn’t want to fight. Anytime I called him out on his bullshit, it somehow meant I was trying to fight, but what I was really looking for was compassion and empathy for what I was feeling. He was starting to become emasculated in my eyes. A true man to me felt like someone whom I could trust to speak kind words to and about me, especially in front of me. A true man would hold space for me when I was experiencing a deep sense of hurt. My emotional reactions were revealing to him that I didn’t feel safe in his presence, but he couldn’t take a step back and recognize that.
I hopped in the back and he came to lay down beside me and said, “I’m so happy I got to see you again. I just want to be around you.”
I felt energetically confirmed to the depth of my core that I would be better off without him.
