really a semiotician. He was always on the outside. Who, then, 're you reading now?' 'I have a theory that we're at the end of a generation. Semiotics's no longer applicable. At the moment there's nothing.' 'I remember in New York when semiotics came only it was Sylvére who brought it over, what it really did was give me a language with which I could speak about my work. Before that I had no way of discussing what I did, of course I did it, and my friends who were doing similar work we had no way of
----
talking to each other. A critical way of talking about my work allowed me to go one step further in my work. Now it seems, as in the pre-semiotics days, practice's prior to theory.' 'The age of theory is over ...''... absolutes ...''... so there's only what I do at any moment.' 'Pleasure. Even Baudrillard in his new book . . .' 'He's a semiotician and dead.' 'Not anymore. . . . says our language is meaningless, for meaning - any signs - are the makings of the ruling class.' 'But he's still using meaningful signs to say this.' 'Oh, the black plague. Is it good?' 'I've read all about plagues.' Kiss. We don't stop kissing each other now. Your physical touch is incredibly gentle. But I can't physically feel anything cause I've been through a six-week relationship at the end of which the man kicked me out as fast as possible cause he decided he didn't know what he wanted. I must be shy of getting hurt. I think you're intelligent and lovely. Your face is keeping changing its shape. Maybe I'm hallucinating? It's not possible I can feel again after a winter and spring of no sexual love then for the second time in five years I moved in with somebody. That failed violently, forcibly.
4. The Mystery
'How, exactly, does my body feel pleasure?:
'I'm remembering fucking Eddie: I'm remembering situations of power. This's the way he likes to be fucked best: I'm on top of him. My arms reach straight to the pillow on either side of his black head. My legs slide from a sitting position straight down inside his legs so that my inner thighs nearest my cunt're rubbing his cock and so that I rising up and down am fucking his cock with my cunt. As I do this I think to myself that he likes this position more than I do. I don't come as easily in this position as when my legs're sitting on top of him because I have to be accurately acutely aware of his reaction to make sure his cock stays in my cunt and, I can't let myself fully go. I reach over Peter so my mouth is on his nipple. Or my wet tongue is flicking his nipple tip. This makes me excited more subtly than when I'm being touched: I don't come as much as violently, but I'm sort of coming all the time. I'm sort of coming all the time. Other times I stick my right hand's third
----
finger into Eddie's asshole. It easily enters. He bucks and looks at me with surprise and openness unusual for him. Openness makes me open. My finger is reaching up and toward his cock. That opening. As his thighs're reaching up for me, Sometimes I coldly turn him over, spread the asscheeks, stick my tongue into his asshole. I don't mind doing this though I usually mind doing this on men. When I do this he groans very loudly so I know he's receiving tons of pleasure. Peter's asshole's too tight for my finger to wiggle up and I don't want to force anyone to do sexually what they don't seem to want to do. When I once mentioned, innocently?, that I had a whip back in New York and he said "I'll have to try it", I was surprised and thought maybe it's a go between us.
'Peter's sexually scared for instance he never comes with me cause he's trying not to be in love with me cause he loves his wife or cause maybe he doesn't want to come. Whenever Eddie comes, I instantaneously come he usually turns me over I've been fucking him. He's on top of me. Now I remember. My legs clasp his waist and touch each other because he likes this. I can't come in this position. Legs open up so feet rest on outer sides of ass. Rubbing bone
----
talking to each other. A critical way of talking about my work allowed me to go one step further in my work. Now it seems, as in the pre-semiotics days, practice's prior to theory.' 'The age of theory is over ...''... absolutes ...''... so there's only what I do at any moment.' 'Pleasure. Even Baudrillard in his new book . . .' 'He's a semiotician and dead.' 'Not anymore. . . . says our language is meaningless, for meaning - any signs - are the makings of the ruling class.' 'But he's still using meaningful signs to say this.' 'Oh, the black plague. Is it good?' 'I've read all about plagues.' Kiss. We don't stop kissing each other now. Your physical touch is incredibly gentle. But I can't physically feel anything cause I've been through a six-week relationship at the end of which the man kicked me out as fast as possible cause he decided he didn't know what he wanted. I must be shy of getting hurt. I think you're intelligent and lovely. Your face is keeping changing its shape. Maybe I'm hallucinating? It's not possible I can feel again after a winter and spring of no sexual love then for the second time in five years I moved in with somebody. That failed violently, forcibly.
4. The Mystery
'How, exactly, does my body feel pleasure?:
'I'm remembering fucking Eddie: I'm remembering situations of power. This's the way he likes to be fucked best: I'm on top of him. My arms reach straight to the pillow on either side of his black head. My legs slide from a sitting position straight down inside his legs so that my inner thighs nearest my cunt're rubbing his cock and so that I rising up and down am fucking his cock with my cunt. As I do this I think to myself that he likes this position more than I do. I don't come as easily in this position as when my legs're sitting on top of him because I have to be accurately acutely aware of his reaction to make sure his cock stays in my cunt and, I can't let myself fully go. I reach over Peter so my mouth is on his nipple. Or my wet tongue is flicking his nipple tip. This makes me excited more subtly than when I'm being touched: I don't come as much as violently, but I'm sort of coming all the time. I'm sort of coming all the time. Other times I stick my right hand's third
----
finger into Eddie's asshole. It easily enters. He bucks and looks at me with surprise and openness unusual for him. Openness makes me open. My finger is reaching up and toward his cock. That opening. As his thighs're reaching up for me, Sometimes I coldly turn him over, spread the asscheeks, stick my tongue into his asshole. I don't mind doing this though I usually mind doing this on men. When I do this he groans very loudly so I know he's receiving tons of pleasure. Peter's asshole's too tight for my finger to wiggle up and I don't want to force anyone to do sexually what they don't seem to want to do. When I once mentioned, innocently?, that I had a whip back in New York and he said "I'll have to try it", I was surprised and thought maybe it's a go between us.
'Peter's sexually scared for instance he never comes with me cause he's trying not to be in love with me cause he loves his wife or cause maybe he doesn't want to come. Whenever Eddie comes, I instantaneously come he usually turns me over I've been fucking him. He's on top of me. Now I remember. My legs clasp his waist and touch each other because he likes this. I can't come in this position. Legs open up so feet rest on outer sides of ass. Rubbing bone
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