The thought of
your lips on my skin.
your taste on the tip of my tongue.
your hands on her.
The effect your stare has on me,
is nothing less than a pair of
{hand cuffs}.
You are
arousing .
A thought
I don't completely grasp
until I'm gripping my sheets
thinking about
you.
She asks me every morning,
how
can
a
man
be
this
sexy
and
still
know
his
way
around
me.
Brushing your hands against my thighs
during dinner,
knowing I cannot make a
peep.
When you look at me, I can hear her
screams of
desire.
lust.
want.
Scratch that. When you smile at me.
Your voice soothes my soul.
Hearing my name flow out of your mouth,
now that...
is the greatest vibrator.
Your hands are my favorite blanket,
Your kisses are my favorite lipstick,
You,
are my favorite person
to be romantic with.
You are the only person I'd ever want
to be romantic with.
But desire goes both ways.
I desire you to desire me.
I want you to want me.
I want to you,
please
the way you please me.
I want to hear your sounds
of
desire
when I slip my tongue through the crevice of your lips.
I
want
more.
The gates of heaven must open in the wake of hearing our sounds of joy and lust mixed with passion and love,
shit,
I
Love
You.
It is because of that love,
I want to know your body
as well as I know your heart.
as well as you know mine.
Fear
is a silent killer.
It visits me when the thought of asking you to
teach me
forces it's way into my brain.
I
want
you
to
show
me
how
to
please
you
because
it
pleases
me
too.
::pleysophobia (n) the fear of not being sexually pleasing enough for your partner.
