Thank you for driving today. Your body and mind, with mine, such a sweet fit. Tub bath after, the soothing heat. God, I love your hands on my back, how you trace the line of my neck, caress the bone of my shoulder, the tales you tell, your panting voice in my ear.
You give me pause, the way you are all man in your taking, and giving- And the owning.
Love the surprises, the key in your hand, the coffee in mine, the foreplay of words and flurry of phone calls. Then, the driving tender of your intensity, how your longest finger traces the length, then threatens the strength of my spine, vertebrae by vertebrae, as I brace my palms on the headboard.
Even with no authority to command, my greedy depths lure you down the highway to learn the language of our hips. This, You, all the hours of today, the unplanned tomorrows are wanted – and often.
Consider me Officially Fucked.