Finishing up a late night movie, I felt as though I wanted to write a bit before I hit the hay.
The movie ended on a quite sad note, but that’s not what I wanna get into.
These will be very abstract thoughts but, here goes.
Love is a strange thing, lust is far less complex. A need, a want, a passion, perhaps just to feel the skin of another person so warmly against yours.
When I daydream about sex in my head, it’s always with this certain endearment. This connection to the other person. I lay here on my couch that I’ve turned into a bed, and I fantasize about being with a certain someone I know.
Someone who can capture my mind, which then in turn gives them access to capture my body.
I imagine kissing, lips both hot and starving for the others. That aggressive passion of not being able to get enough of the others taste.
Hands that grab at anything keeping even a centimeter between us. Chest to chest, sitting in his lap, for just that moment, the aggression subsides. Swept over by this euphoric elation. I can really touch you, and you can really touch me.
It’s real, there’s only one more step to be closer, I’m ready, connect with me, show me you feel it too. Let me see the sweat glisten off your skin, moan in my ear till I lose my mind. Tell me how good it feels.
Can we stay in bed and let our lips and fingertips map every inch of our bodies? So even when we’re apart, I can feel you on my skin. I’ll lick your wounds, you can kiss my bruises, tell me how beautiful I look after the mess you made me.
I’ll lay there exposed, you can have me, bare, vulnerable to you. For every bite, there’s a tender kiss, every hard thrust, there’s a soft embrace waiting. Be rough, but your heart soft and yearning.
Give me your best, and you can have all of me. I don’t wanna think about anything. Give my body an escape from the stress, lick the tension from my curves. Give me only what you can..