As a grown man I’ve gotten to the point where I have known exactly what it is that I want for years now. What it is, that I need.
Passion. With a capital fucking “P”.
A connection, in the deepest sense, with you and not just in bed. I need to know you. I need to see you laugh. I need to see you stressed out about life and more than anything I want to be there for you in those moments when you cry.
I need this connection all to come together when I kiss you. I need to be as close to one with you as you possibly can be.
I need to be inside you.
Pushing my mouth up to meet yours as you feel your cervix being battered by hardness. To stare through your closed eyelids and see directly into your soul as you moan out in pure ecstasy as the 5th orgasm rocks your foundation, knowing that soon we will be laying next to each other naked, sharing a bottle of water and laughing about some lame shit I just said about how my dick looks pathetic when it’s limp.
That’s the shit right there. This blog may convey a lot about sex, but without that connection, I’d rather jerk off and get some work done.
It’s that connection that is magic.
Also published on Medium.