for you
Curled at your back, I reach out and touch you, just to reaffirm that you are real - that you are with me. Sleeping. I can't sleep. I watch you, in between closing my eyes and listening to your breathing - every now and then, a sigh. I lightly touch your back, t-shirt - (i am nude) the jersey cotton soft, I feel the warmth of your skin under, lean towards you, my face not an inch away from your shoulder, I close my eyes and inhale, detergent, fabric softener -clean laundry and a smell that is just you. I love you. I whisper. I softly kiss your shoulder and lay back on the pillow. Tender while you sleep, so innocent - no one sleeps as soundly as an apex predator. You turn in your slumber, on your back now - you sigh and groan.
I sit up, edge of the bed, restless and awake, it's always difficult for me to sleep. The dim light, I look over my shoulder, see your shape dark and warm, I shiver lightly - goosebumps and anticipation, resting my head in my hands. I'm overwhelmed, easily overcome with you, always so much, so big; the associations, the acceptance, the mutual affection, the fact that it just is. I feel your hand at the small of my back, offering sleepy comfort through simple touch - affirmation that we're here, finally. You say nothing, there's no need - words are of little consequence, if the need is there - it's not a need for words, just that contact. The tension in me drains a little, I don't know how you do it - it just slips away with you. I sigh, allowing it to go. Your hand strokes the small of my back lazily, stopping and starting again.
"Come here."
I turn, the light just enough to see your arm stretched out to me and your face angled toward me, your words so low I barely heard them - but I know that I did, I can feel you looking at me, waiting. I slide back into bed, resting my head on your chest, you arms wrap around me, your fingers finding the ringlets of my hair, petting softly, soothing, my eyes closing after a few long blinks. The rise and fall of your chest, the beat of your heart, the fact that I've found a place, in your arms, a place with you - I belong. I feel choked up and relieved, understood. The fact that you never hold on too tight - make that as figurative as you want it to be, it's the truth. What's between us is there because we've allowed it to grow - let go - nurtured. You twirl my hair around the fingers of your left hand, letting the ringlets fall, then gathering them up once more. I run my hand down your belly and then back up again, caressing you, tracing my fingers to your belly button, stopping just short of sexual. I want your cock in my mouth.
Whatever it is to you, however you have it broken up in your mind - fucking - raping - making love - using. For me, it will always be love. I hate that, it makes me feel on the weak end of things, vulnerable. That no matter what you think you're doing to me, I'll be making love to you. You're beautiful for me and to me. I find it to be a slight disadvantage, which is frustratingly honest. I can't help but feel that it is less of a disadvantage than it used to be. When I used to go bare in front of you - I mean naked in an emotional sense. Your reaction was "holy fuck" and then your best attempts at reassurance and most often resigning the fact that it was just a lot to deal with. Things have changed. Something in you gave way. Opened. It's quite lovely. Now when I go naked, you look at me, smile - sometimes sigh and your verbal reaction is "that's beautiful darling." Or one of the most care is applied - the one that made me stop, more than hearing my name, more soothing than "who's my girl?" - the simple and undeniable and achingly beautiful truth - "There’s nothing for you to worry about, alright?" I had nothing to say to that, no denying it, I just asked "how do I stop?" The answer is already in front of me. There isn't anything there for me to worry about. I am beautiful to you. That part in you that gave way at our coming back to one another - that trial of patience of just simply letting me love you - we found out one very big thing - you calm me the fuck down. You are rest for me, that soothing that I always need. It doesn't matter how hard it is, how violent, it's always love. The depths of it are infinitely impressive. I want your cock in my mouth. Fucking me, fucking my pretty face, my cute dimples - because you told me I'm beautiful when I laugh and smile. Beautiful when I cry, even when snot drips out of my nose - unbelievable that you can look at me and smile the way you do. I can tell how much you care - when I finally let myself see it.
I trace my fingers down past your belly button, after stopping three or four times, straight down your boxer shorts, completely out of myself, no shyness, holding your cock in my hand, kissing the tip, because my mouth followed my hands there, pulling your boxers down, my lips on you. So soft, my mouth - like moist velvet, my tongue - pressing you, sucking you in, right to the back of my throat. I hear you exhale, I imagine your eyes closing, your fist clenches my hair, opening and closing slowly - working to the back of my neck, a tight hold, not forcing, enjoying the feel as I take you in and out again, that pretty face, sucking your cock. Hungry for you, I moan, my voice low, vibrates you, adding a new sensation to the wet suction. Your breath catches - knowing this is love for me. Your grip stiffens a bit pushing my face down on your cock (this is love for me) this mouth is yours, this face is yours, this wet cunt, this tight asshole, this body is all yours and this is love for me, giving you the only thing that is truly my own to give, myself. (I love you) I swallow you in further, my throat spasms a bit, I fight off a heave and open my throat again. Giving you myself, giving you any pleasure I can give. I drink, I swallow - just as you let it go, bittersweet in your release, grip pulling my hair, even as I sink down further, taking in every last bit of you, my hands squeezing your thighs gently. Your cock quivers in my mouth, between my lips, tip at the back of my throat, pulses. My cunt dripping now, the tightness built in me from pleasuring you.
Curled at your back, I reach out and touch you, just to reaffirm that you are real - that you are with me. Sleeping. I can't sleep. I watch you, in between closing my eyes and listening to your breathing - every now and then, a sigh. I lightly touch your back, t-shirt - (i am nude) the jersey cotton soft, I feel the warmth of your skin under, lean towards you, my face not an inch away from your shoulder, I close my eyes and inhale, detergent, fabric softener -clean laundry and a smell that is just you. I love you. I whisper. I softly kiss your shoulder and lay back on the pillow. Tender while you sleep, so innocent - no one sleeps as soundly as an apex predator. You turn in your slumber, on your back now - you sigh and groan.
I sit up, edge of the bed, restless and awake, it's always difficult for me to sleep. The dim light, I look over my shoulder, see your shape dark and warm, I shiver lightly - goosebumps and anticipation, resting my head in my hands. I'm overwhelmed, easily overcome with you, always so much, so big; the associations, the acceptance, the mutual affection, the fact that it just is. I feel your hand at the small of my back, offering sleepy comfort through simple touch - affirmation that we're here, finally. You say nothing, there's no need - words are of little consequence, if the need is there - it's not a need for words, just that contact. The tension in me drains a little, I don't know how you do it - it just slips away with you. I sigh, allowing it to go. Your hand strokes the small of my back lazily, stopping and starting again.
"Come here."
I turn, the light just enough to see your arm stretched out to me and your face angled toward me, your words so low I barely heard them - but I know that I did, I can feel you looking at me, waiting. I slide back into bed, resting my head on your chest, you arms wrap around me, your fingers finding the ringlets of my hair, petting softly, soothing, my eyes closing after a few long blinks. The rise and fall of your chest, the beat of your heart, the fact that I've found a place, in your arms, a place with you - I belong. I feel choked up and relieved, understood. The fact that you never hold on too tight - make that as figurative as you want it to be, it's the truth. What's between us is there because we've allowed it to grow - let go - nurtured. You twirl my hair around the fingers of your left hand, letting the ringlets fall, then gathering them up once more. I run my hand down your belly and then back up again, caressing you, tracing my fingers to your belly button, stopping just short of sexual. I want your cock in my mouth.
Whatever it is to you, however you have it broken up in your mind - fucking - raping - making love - using. For me, it will always be love. I hate that, it makes me feel on the weak end of things, vulnerable. That no matter what you think you're doing to me, I'll be making love to you. You're beautiful for me and to me. I find it to be a slight disadvantage, which is frustratingly honest. I can't help but feel that it is less of a disadvantage than it used to be. When I used to go bare in front of you - I mean naked in an emotional sense. Your reaction was "holy fuck" and then your best attempts at reassurance and most often resigning the fact that it was just a lot to deal with. Things have changed. Something in you gave way. Opened. It's quite lovely. Now when I go naked, you look at me, smile - sometimes sigh and your verbal reaction is "that's beautiful darling." Or one of the most care is applied - the one that made me stop, more than hearing my name, more soothing than "who's my girl?" - the simple and undeniable and achingly beautiful truth - "There’s nothing for you to worry about, alright?" I had nothing to say to that, no denying it, I just asked "how do I stop?" The answer is already in front of me. There isn't anything there for me to worry about. I am beautiful to you. That part in you that gave way at our coming back to one another - that trial of patience of just simply letting me love you - we found out one very big thing - you calm me the fuck down. You are rest for me, that soothing that I always need. It doesn't matter how hard it is, how violent, it's always love. The depths of it are infinitely impressive. I want your cock in my mouth. Fucking me, fucking my pretty face, my cute dimples - because you told me I'm beautiful when I laugh and smile. Beautiful when I cry, even when snot drips out of my nose - unbelievable that you can look at me and smile the way you do. I can tell how much you care - when I finally let myself see it.
I trace my fingers down past your belly button, after stopping three or four times, straight down your boxer shorts, completely out of myself, no shyness, holding your cock in my hand, kissing the tip, because my mouth followed my hands there, pulling your boxers down, my lips on you. So soft, my mouth - like moist velvet, my tongue - pressing you, sucking you in, right to the back of my throat. I hear you exhale, I imagine your eyes closing, your fist clenches my hair, opening and closing slowly - working to the back of my neck, a tight hold, not forcing, enjoying the feel as I take you in and out again, that pretty face, sucking your cock. Hungry for you, I moan, my voice low, vibrates you, adding a new sensation to the wet suction. Your breath catches - knowing this is love for me. Your grip stiffens a bit pushing my face down on your cock (this is love for me) this mouth is yours, this face is yours, this wet cunt, this tight asshole, this body is all yours and this is love for me, giving you the only thing that is truly my own to give, myself. (I love you) I swallow you in further, my throat spasms a bit, I fight off a heave and open my throat again. Giving you myself, giving you any pleasure I can give. I drink, I swallow - just as you let it go, bittersweet in your release, grip pulling my hair, even as I sink down further, taking in every last bit of you, my hands squeezing your thighs gently. Your cock quivers in my mouth, between my lips, tip at the back of my throat, pulses. My cunt dripping now, the tightness built in me from pleasuring you.
