"Be the Change you want to see in the world" - Mahatma Ghandi
This quote exemplifies my personal agenda and is essentially my code of life.
My name is Col. I am a female-bodied 18yr old queer, poly, feminist and artist. I am a freshman at the Art Institute of Boston and will be living there for the next year. I hope to become an illustrator and I'm always open for commissions if you want a drawing. My art blog is colsart.tumblr.com so come follow me. Most of my post on this blog or random but most will be related to equality, radical thinking, lgbtq rights, social movements and just being a weird queer grrl. Peace!
tickle my brain
by Col Williams
I watched her face as she moved above me. Her forehead was slick with sweat from thrusting into me.I moaned softly as she hit a sweet spot.
She was upset again. I could tell by the way she moved. Her strokes were hard and fast, fueled by the need to release, the need to let go. I looked at her face again. Her eyes were shut tight, eyebrows scrunched together in intense concentration, searching for that angle that would bring us both to the edge.
“Jordan?” I moaned softly. She froze, as if caught in some illegal act, and stared down at me.
Her eyes searched mine for some kind of pain, thinking that she had hurt me. But I knew it was her that was hurting.
I shook my head and gave her a soft smile, “I love you.”
Her brown eyes closed and she began to move her hips again harder and faster than before. I moved along with her until we both came to the edge. Her breath came out harshly as she climaxed, her whole body shaking. My back arched, begging to reach hers and my fingers found themselves clawing her back.
After some time, her body relaxed and she rolled off of me. She unstrapped the harness and laid herself next to me, head resting on my bare breasts. I heard her inhale; taking in my scent and all that surrounded us. I looked down at her curly mess of hair and waited. After about ten minutes of just silence, she told me.
It was another case gone wrong. The man they had been after, a known abuser and bigot had gotten off scotch-free. The courts had found the sexual assault evidence inconclusive and thrown the case out. Now this sexist asshole was free to assault some other woman.
I said nothing after she finished talking, just ran my fingers through her curls. She took comfort in this and let out a shaky breath.
Her sobs came out in dying gasps as she turned away from me. She hated for me to see her cry.
“It’s not fucking fair,” she sobbed and fisted the bed sheets. “It’s not!”
Her voice sounded like broken glass, body wracked in utter sorrow. I shifted my body so that I could hold her and placed kisses on her forehead. “I know, baby, I know.”
In a moment her body becomes limp in my arms. Her breath calmed and she buried her face into the crook of my neck.
She mumbled a small ‘thank you’ into my skin as she crawls into herself. We sat there for hours, comforting her with sweet songs, until she slipped off to sleep.
It was days like this that made her question herself. Days like this that brought her home in need of some heavy action. And days like these that made me want to just lock her away and protect her from all these horrible things. But I can’t, because I know that she’s going to get back on her feet to face another day.
So instead, I’ll stay by her side and be ready for the next time she needs me.
ahh sleep, why did i ever think i need you
am I the only one?
Evan (Tucky Williams)