I should really be conducting myself better than this, being that I am practically a married woman, although everyone knows almost doesn’t count. But explain that to a man who comes from a home where love was never questioned. It’s hard to get a conditioned mind away from the concept of monogamy.
We met a couple years ago and I have not been able to get you off my mind, I mean even in my deepest thoughts you appear and I am excited, aroused and terrified. What does this mean for me? This is more than an obsession, you know that right? I communicate with you more than I really should but even when I want to stop I am tortured with the memories of our last evening together. I was so sore that morning but my body had no limits. The addiction, the moment you touch me, I swear my body comes alive and you wear me so proudly. I pretend to be timid so you can demand more of me, did you know that I love being told what to do? Sometimes I think I wrote you into existence, you’re just too perfect, my lover. I am selfish for my desire of wanting to own you, of wanting you to only belong to me but my dear, I refuse to let go. The thought of another woman placing her lips where I’ve been so many times and not appreciating or relishing the deliciousness of you on her tongue, really brings forth a jealousy I didn’t think I had before our bodies were introduced. You need to be appreciated, in every manner and usage of the word.
It’s not that easy to describe this addiction. The type of addiction that results in codependency. The type of addiction that reels its beautiful self at least twice a month on Tuesdays. Two blue cosmos, even though I said I would stop drinking. Even though I said it doesn’t always have to begin this way but smile under the terrible lightning of this bar. I love the way you taste. Tickling the back of my throat each time we meet. What’s better than this? What better way to enjoy our time than to a toast for each rendezvous that’s given? What did we call this again, survival? That’s right. Because we love love and we love who we love but the love carried in the middle of the night weighs far more than the love we cherish in the light. I wouldn’t say it’s the taboo of it, I think it’s a little deeper than that. The thrill of the act is gone and what’s left is pure, raw, unfiltered lust at the tips of our tongues. So we, continue to fill our glasses to the rim and carry on pointless conversation just as foreplay. And we sit back in the moments and playfully wonder what it would be like to escape together into a world where we don’t have to sit back and ponder on such trivial things. It would be as simple as taking a walk in the park on warm fall day, watching the leaves change and slowly wither off branches. Timeless, would be our word. No restraints. No curfews. A world without limitations. Easily can be created but where’s the fun in that? What fun is getting everything you want? Even if I had you, you don’t think I would want more? We live dangerously for perspective purposes only, constantly in battle on whether or not this is all real. I mean why else would anybody want to love? The addiction is not easy to describe, in the sense of why the addiction begins. Sometimes the feeling of helplessness, being at the mercy of something is more powerful than one thinks, but we can get to that another time.
Here’s a toast, to a lover so divine, that I’d risk it all to have another night beneath you.
My articulation of the situation is not that well-defined, at least to me. The reduction of purely the physical is just not fair to you or to me. There’s more than just the taste of flesh that keeps me reaching out to you. There’s more than just delighted moans that escape in the middle of nights. There’s so much more and I keep limiting you to just these boundaries. It’s to keep the complications of such causalities to a minimum. I am still a woman, an emotionally deprived woman, but nonetheless a woman who has found much more than just sexual comfort in the warmth of your arms. I can clarify any misunderstandings that may arise and keep pacifying you with simple responses, but here I go, when given the opportunity to express myself I shy away and remain defensive. A certain level of protection is needed to continue on this way and the only way I can manage is to keep things the way they are through the maintenance of boundaries. But the truth? The truth is I need you in order to remain sane, in order to remain true to myself because you keep alive the femininity to my being. Does that make sense? With you I reach higher, deeper because you force me to and motivate me. There’s inspiration behind your words and your kisses. You unlock doors for me that would have remained shut had I never took the time to travel with you to lands that were forgotten. To lands that were neglected, you carried a passion that began to nurture and nourish the soil. Fresh soil feels like silk between fingers and I remembered how revived I felt the moment the lands began to taste water. You inspire growth. You inspire passion and a tenderness that I need. And it’s hard for me to let that go because I want to forever belong to you, because I never want to have days were I can’t look over to see the liveliness of all that you are. You are a production. A motion that allows me to feel free. I am free. I am me. And I always want to feel this way.
There were things that needed to be done today. Right lower side of my head began throbbing at my never ending to do list this morning. Stress headaches have been a thing for me lately. A little overwhelmed with all that is going on currently with work, school and life. I get so tired at work sometimes. The only thing that lowers the anxieties of the paperwork is making sure I take a few minutes out of my day to spend time with you. My sister gave me this great idea now that I have this new office at work. No windows. Door is always locked. My silver friend I hide at the bottom of my bag. I can enjoy you just as you're enjoying yourself. I even maintain eye contact during the time we spend. Lunch breaks have become seconds of pleasure lately. They serve as reminders on my phone that I mustn't forget that I am a sexual woman who, is fully aware of herself and her body's capabilities. There's a magic to your being. It's in your ability to teach me over again. To instruct me and force me to pull myself out. You invoke that side of me. The side of me in which I am deeply consumed by. The side of me that I love and cherish, adore. It's the me that I love. The me that you acknowledge. It's in your voice. The look in your eyes. I feel sexy. I write about you so often, in short paragraphs to mimic the short burst of time I get with you now. I haven't been able to write in full depth because I need all of you to help inspire and force me to reconnect with myself. There's parts of you that I want to belong to. The physical meshes beautifully with you and I wonder what other doors could be unlocked. But, I remain at bay with certain things because, well, nobody wants to get hurt I suppose. It's hard to unsee the beauty in vulnerability the moment you tip me open, that is what is so addicting. Because the small tastes of your lips always leave me wanting more. The body never lies and I've been repeating that same sentiment for a while. I met you, well, accidentally discovered you through old post and war stories of old lovers. What an unlikely connection, don't you think? That the universe would create it so that the freedom I needed would transpire through you.
I forgot how delicious it feels to wanna devour someone. The teasing. The wanting. The craving. Positioning yourself under the covers, sliding in and out and imagining how good it would be to feel them right now. Early mornings always seem to be the time the yearnings are insatiable. Wanting to feel hands roaming freely, fingers playfully tracing the panty line and just lying there silently begging to feel them. Soft kisses on the nape of the neck as the heart beats fasten at the height the excitement. “Tease me” I wanna whisper. It’s such a forgotten skill. I wanna beg. I wanna be merciless at the tips of your fingers. I want dams to break as you drive me insane. Bring me to the edge. Demand my thighs to part and kiss me. Kiss me softly, kiss me slowly but kiss me to the point my back is arching. And then, stop. Just stop. Make her cry a little and then taste it once more.
All day at work this is all I could think of. This morning I used both hands trying to find a cure for this fever. Nipples poking through my shirt and I just kept mouthing your name. I wanted you so bad this morning. There was an aching for your pressure. I had to take care of it the best way I could. So I made myself cum 2x before work. But even that couldn’t stop the fantasies.
Hands intertwined in hair and the sounds of lips smacking filled my ears. Soft movements of tongue and fingers carefully finding their way around, I wanna scream and tell you to take me. I want it all. All of it daddy. I wanna feel the thickness. Fill me tonight. I can give you kisses from within. I’ll moan my appreciation in your ear. Just take me.
Mornings are meant for cumming. So when you coming over?
It was raining that evening. I remember the sky turning gray. The clouds were full and ready to nourish the grounds below. I left the window open. The softness of raindrops echoing through the apartment. It’s a game of cat and mouse we played. Taunting and teasing until the water began to overflow. Any idea how soft the flesh becomes under stress? It’s reminiscent of a flower blooming underneath the sunshine. The flesh is warm and tender. It yearns for the attention of fingertips. Hesitation met first with thoughts of secrets becoming exposed. The excitement lies in our escapes. I knew how tainted this could all be. But we’re all so very selfish in what the bare flesh wants. Consequences mean nothing under the haze of passion. The sky faded to a richer shade of gray. Few stars appeared but were hiding in between the clouds. I smiled as my heart began to pound. The sensation of new is mesmerizing. Euphoric in nature. Exploring new land. Exciting to the touch. Soft, succulent breast waiting for the fullness of your lips to enjoy them. Fingers ready to be submerged. I wanted him so bad. All the teasing was wearing me down. Even the breath against skin was causing waters to rise. I normally can keep it together but there was something…. Something too big to ignore. So we made our way… It’s always so smooth the first time undressing. The mouth slightly parted moist with desire. It was like in the blink of an eye I was exposed and ready to be taken. I laid there ready to receive. Ready to feel. Ready to gasp at the intensity between us. I was ready for him… I felt his fingers reaching inside. Warming me up. Stretching me. Expanding me. Prepping me for all of him. I want him so bad I’m begging silently for this man “Please” I whisper. Grabbing my thighs, Trail of wet kisses he’s leaving down my back. He’s driving me insane. Legs trembling with anticipation . Finally… He wraps his lips around me And begins to say all the things to make me smile…
I really want to talk about the way you kissed me the other night. How you kissed me… I think that’s why I’m so overwhelmed. It’s trying to make things black and white and when shades of cream and ivory begin to appear, don’t you think it gets confusing what we’re asking for? Intimacy with no strings attached. I’m not downplaying causal interactions by no means. Are we not a few levels above just casual interactions though? I ask you to give yourself, freely. Every inch of you is taken and savored. My God, you’re beautiful in how willing you are to surrender to my selfish needs. Lines don’t blur when “I’m yours” sets sail in your ears? We set rules for clarifications. No misunderstandings. Guidelines to keep us inside lines. To keep from over reaching. Over stepping boundaries. Why do you think we have boundaries? Placing these invisible limitations on ourself and those in our surroundings in justification of comprehension. It’s easier to follow the rules and it just gets confusing when you break them. So when the tables turned and it was given back to me as if it’s my comfort zone I’m asking you to step into, the answer is yes, this is what will make me feel comfortable. This is what will keep me in line. This is what will remind me those lips are not mine. Applying the rules lets you know things can get messy. I like romance and passion, how many times have you not confused yourself in the lines of fire? I’m asking to only dance with these concepts, not to have realities form. What fun is reality for lovers anyways? It’s fantasies we feed. Just like the fantasy you fed me with your lips. All I could mouth was the word “how”. How are you so good at this? What do these intense kisses mean? Why are you forcing me to think deeper into your lips? Questions never amount to much in our world. We leave them there, unanswered. Forgotten. Because the moment these questions are asked, there lies the moment we break the rules and I begin to look for in ways you’ll never appear.