Make love to me like you own me. Be delicate, be rough, be violent, go back to devouring me gently. Aren’t you, after all, my little secret paradox. Own me both figuratively and physically. Do things to me that you’ve only ever thought of and would rather be caught dead than say out loud. Completely take over my thoughts and dictate over my life. Speak with your hands and eyes…you don’t have to open your mouth to utter a word. Your mouth…your mouth should be used for other things, like kissing me on places other than my mouth. Kiss me on the lips on my mouth, and on lips that aren’t on my mouth. You say I have beautiful lips but babe, wait until you see my other lips.
When it comes to you I am anything but timid. Call me shameless, call me love whipped, call me aggressive, call me submissive….. actually, I can be anything you need me to be. Own me, and do things to me you would never dare say out loud.
You are so beautiful and intense…how is it possible for a man to have such beautiful features? They say a man should be abit rough and haggard, but you are so beautiful. I love every bit of you…how you make me feel, how my heart melts when I look at your face. I love how wet you make me while doing the bare minimum, all subconsciously. You never have to do anything really, all my body has to do is just listen to your voice and take one look at you and then it’s downhill from there.
I love your big sexy eyes, mostly because they tell me everything I need to know….I didn’t even know how much I needed you until you came into my life …and now every time I ask myself how did I survive this long without you? What we have cannot be described and I’m glad you are the first person I’ve ever experienced it with. It’s a new experience for me and i cannot stop the tears from flowing.
I want to love you till my last breath. I don’t think you truly understand what is going on here…I am giving you my heart and requesting that you please handle it with the softness that it deserves. I am vulnerable right now, and ohh so delicate – like a flower blooming during its off season.
If this isn’t true love then really; is there true love anywhere? If this isn’t true love, then true love doesn’t exist.
