“Look her in the eyes when you run your hand up her thighs, because her desire is in the connection. Don’t be surprised, when she shivers and sighs, for intimacy is the most dangerous weapon. Kiss her real slow, and kiss her down low, you don’t have to be on top to make sure you’re in charge. Run your hands through her hair, til she’s so close to there, then hold her close as she falls of the ledge. Make her scream out your name, till it drives you insane, and you both lay spent on the bed. Don’t even think I am done with you yet.” ~ K. Towne Jr.
While there may be innumerable aspects of you that I love, none compare to the feeling of having you inside of me.
For some reason, I crave being naked with you more than I ever have with another—it’s almost as if our clothes are just an unnecessary and unwanted barrier between us.
There was never an instant when I didn’t enjoy the times we spent bare-skinned and dewy from exploring one another’s bodies, yet perhaps now it’s less to do with the act itself and more to do with the person I am experiencing those moments with.
I trust you—not just in the way of words, but with my very body—and more importantly, I am now seeing my soul.
In the distance of seasons, I have realized that while we’ve had sex numerous times, it wasn’t until recently that I really let you into the world of me.
I suppose the truth is that I have finally stopped trying to be anything other than the woman you seem to delight in, while I straddle your lap kissing away time.
This isn’t a moment of certainty or promises, but rather the delectable magic that occurs when we can simply live in the moment relishing in whatever pleasure it brings. I never assume or take for granted that we will have more time, so perhaps that is what truly makes it taste so sweetly in these moments.
No matter how long it’s been, my body begins to vibrate when you are in my atmosphere, making my legs tremble with the seduction of lingering touches and bodies that just seem to sing to a rhythm all their own.
I’ve always loved sex, but now my favorite part of this tantalizing act is you.
Your touch, your taste and your body moving against mine is the greatest aphrodisiac.
At one point it was the sex that I was drawn to, the moments of faking intimacy so that I wouldn’t actually have to be vulnerable. Yet now that I have become that honeyed woman, so sweet in her vulnerability, I no longer have to use sex to fake a connection that just isn’t there.
And it was then that I saw that it was never just about sex for me—but the connection.
All along it was about you, and while I didn’t always welcome that revelation with open arms, I now delight in the fact that there is no one else quite like you—nothing else compares to the way that you do me with a surprising tenderness that is only matched by your passionate control.
I realize now that I had fallen for you because of the way that you can take the reins and make it seem like it’s the most natural of tasks. Not everyone can take a wild mustang, and instead of taming her, choose to ride her exactly as she is—flaws, fierceness and all.
But you don’t see any of that when you look at me. You don’t simply see the view others seem so eager to attach to me, a soul they don’t quite understand.In fact, you know how terrified I am of what this life can sometimes bring to my doorstep, and perhaps it is that open realization that lets me just be with you.
There may never be a time when this suddenly finds meaning or defines a clear the path for you and me, but I know that it could also just be a matter of time.
Yet, none of that truly matters to me.
Unlike before, I am not sitting around thinking about what could be growing within these enchanted spaces between your fingertips and my bare skin, and I’m not wondering what any of this may mean to you.
I’m simply living here in this moment, whatever it may bring.
So much has been said that perhaps nothing else needs to be mentioned. There is no doubt that you know it’s your name written inside of my heart, and the idea of you fitting into my universe so easily is no longer a new or foreign idea.
But just because all of that is true doesn’t mean that I am attached to any particular outcome. In truth, the more I love you, the less I want from you—because it no longer is about me, but about you and wherever our individual journeys may lead us.
But for now, in this moment, all I yearn for is you.
Not because sex is all I crave, but because right now—and maybe for longer—I just can’t get enough.
I can’t get enough of kissing you and tasting the scars you have earned, bringing you to this moment.
I can’t get enough of your fingertips tracing my skin and the way it feels when you take my ripe nipples into your mouth making me forget about tomorrow.
And I can’t get enough of you sliding and moving inside of me, leaving me feeling more satisfied than I ever have before.
I simply just can’t get enough of you—because you truly are my favorite part of sex.