When I love, I love with passion. I am a storm in the middle of the night, not a gentle afternoon rain. I am not graceful, I stumble over my emotions. I hate this about myself. I want to feel less, expect less, love less. I want to let go before I exhaust you.
I don’t want sex, I want the things that lead up to it. The slow kissing then the passionate kissing, then the pulling closer, the neck kisses, the grabbing, biting, heavy breathing, grinding, the pauses while you catch your breath, feeling each other. Oh my.