I'm in the mood for something mutual. Your hands on steel, mine plunged betwixt velvet. I want to feel you shaking as I bring you ever closer, then lose my train of thought when the favor is returned. I want to find myself in battle, not knowing who's the victor, though you scream for mercy I have been made to utter pleas for quarter and you may give it to me...though I may not do the same. I want to face you locking eyes, I want to breathe your every sigh, I want to make you twist and ache and yearn, make you make me kneel and earn every drop of lust that I can glean. I want to leave the bed a rumpled mess, and take you in the shower, and make you feel the dirtiest I can while you scrub your body clean.
And when it's over, I want to start again. I never want to finish, though I crave to finish many times and will upon your lips, your chest, your belly and your womb. I want feel your walls collapsing, clenching, grasping as your body's wracked unto its core. I want you to remember this by your limping, feeling ginger....let me put it simply:
I want to crash into you and revel in the wreckage that we've made of each other.