I want to be cuddled. I want the stupid sweet shit, where you come over here, sneak into my bed and wake me up, your hand around my throat, and your teeth against my jawbone. I want the shivers from pretending to be asleep, when I hear you- finally- after what seems hours of waiting. I hear the door to the outside crack open, and burrow deeper into the covers, flip my hair away from my neck- hoping to entice you, into touching, tasting, holding me still enough to begin to accept feeling again.
I have been numb this week. Needed a lover to upset my balance, throw me off and catch me in a chokehold, letting me know, it’s okay to be weak sometimes. It’s okay to fall down, skin my knees, bruise myself. I need someone to look down and see me here, weak and resistant against rising back to the top, and when you look, I need you to tell me: “Baby, don’t bother. Stay down. You look beautiful on your knees. I’ll be the one to lead for awhile. I know what I want, what you want and how to give it to both of us. I will be the one to assert myself into the back of your throat tonight, you rest and just receive.”
I need you to want me so much, you can’t be bothered to wait till we get home to fuck me. You have me bent over the nearest anything and the entire time we were out getting groceries, I was fending off grasps, touches, strokes of your hands. Your escort kocaeli mouth hot, wet and sharp at my collar bone, as that check out clerk accidently looked down aisle five when you pushed me up against the freezer. Your dick, close to parting my thighs through blue jeans, from the force of sheer will. You told me that day, that day which doesn’t exist, to wear a skirt, and I didn’t listen. I never listen. And usually, that’s ok.
But right now babe, I want to listen. To be kept at silent. I want you to wrap your fingers in my hair, pull my head back and tell me how hard you’re going to fuck me. I want to open my thighs and find you filling me with yourself. Fingers, silicone dick, almost your fist. I want to be held down and allowed to open. Because lately, open hasn’t been in my vocabulary. I’ve been avoiding permeable, by touching myself in the dark, or by candle light- after my live in lover is asleep. Quietly, fingers slipping down past the lace band of panties- the only scrap of fabric left on when I slide under the comforter, the sheets. Silently, almost without motion, I coax life back into my body, through the neurons of sensations attached to this small, small piece of me. I coax my clit into a symphony, almost remembering how it feels to be surprised by the feeling of fingers dancing their way down my belly to rest… close, close, closer… kocaeli anal yapan escort teasing. I need the teasing. I need to not have to ask for it tonight. I need you to know what I want while I’m lying here, un composed, half caught between sleep and waking dreams of desire. Because I am almost certain I slept in my own bed tonight. I am almost certain I got up, padded naked to the door, nipples shivering in the distance from bedroom to the front door, and unbolted my heart to you.
I only let certain lovers slip in after I’ve been sleeping. Tonight, I need the quiet, of a few hours to dream of you, a few hours to anticipate the quiet click and creeeeek of the door. To listen closely as you remove your shoes, strip off your coat and to fall safely asleep for the first time that evening, for the two minutes it takes you to find your way to my bedroom. I need to be sleeping when you reach me. Need to see if my body knows it’s you, and how it reacts when I know you’re here fro more than sleeping next to another person, even if it’s been forever since you’ve woken up to tangled curls and a sleepy grrl smiling good morning.
I need you to hold me silent, as you remove your pants with one hand, kick them off the bed, tilt my ass towards you, and slide in… no warning. I want to feel you rock, feel izmit yabancı escort the connection as you push yourself closer to my guts, your dick starting to slide easier as my slickness begins to flow. I want you to start the foreplay as an afterthought, the vibration of your rocking into my ass being the main course this time, because you know, I need it to hurt. I asked you to do it, asked you to find me. Asked you to fuck me into tears, because if I don’t see you tonight, if you’re anonymous, I am allowed to be afraid. I am allowed to feel scared. And I have been feeling nothing, except when your energy comes close enough to touch mine. Please do it. Please fuck me. Please leave my pretty words behind to slide into whatever hole you want tonight. Mark my body for your pleasure, and let me almost slide into that place of quiet, as my brain turns off, and my clit clicks on, against your searching fingers.
Hold me tightly as you use me until you come, and then hold me close as you command, with your body, the same from me. As I come, I will come with tears, shudders and the shivers which hit after another person has gotten close…close… too close… just close enough… to letting me fall through the looking glass. I have glimpsed the outskirts of Wonderland, and I feel safe, tears mixed with the taste of your lips on mine as you turn me into you- knowing I’m searching for that space- the one you fill, and I fall asleep. Tear streaks, a morning memory, the tribute to how open, how much I felt. Then, dreams overtake me, and I rest, grateful, against your chest. Content, knowing morning always dawns exactly when it’s supposed to.