These feelings and thoughts are something about which few talk and to which few admit, but if I’m feeling it, I know most others do too.
Every single person is a product of sex, but sex is wrong. We’re born nude, but we must cover up. Children are nourished with breasts, but women can’t show them.
I should enjoy inviting a man over on a Friday afternoon to make love and pleasure each other, to lay in each other’s sweat and passionate kisses, legs intertwined, because I can. Because I want to do it.
Are you craving my smile and tickles down your bare back as you lay your weight onto mine?
sometimes, as in all the time, I want you back.
I told myself to be carefree to just have fun to enjoy you because I could.
Not even the nicest of homes nor the most stunning ocean view
can distract my mind from what it wants, what it misses.
I need to feel you, your emotional connection to me, your attraction to me.
And I don’t take it back.
I’m scared to text because I’m supposed to not let you know I’m thinking about you.