Wr1tt3n0ne

Bunches and bunches
2020-07-09 15:14:49 (UTC)

I Touch Myself, Because I'm Fun!

"I love myself, I want you to love me
When I feel down, I want you above me
I search myself, I want you to find me
I forget myself, I want you to remind me
I don't want anybody else
When I think about you, I touch myself
Ooh, I don't want anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no
You're the one who makes me come runnin'
You're the sun who makes me shine
When you're around, I'm always laughin'
I want to make you mine
I close my eyes and see you before me
Think I would die if you were to ignore me
A fool could see just how much I adore you
I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you
I don't want anybody else
When I think about you, I touch myself
Ooh, I don't want anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no..." ~ I Touch Myself, Divinyls

Mr. Curved Line's curve has been gloved in me. While flesh on flesh, however sultry and earthy, is mere physicality, this fit mirrors the fit of me in his arms, our lives together, and the other half of my heart weaving back into one. He brings me and comes with me places I have always been alone. I was never quite sure if it was my destiny to stand alone, in my faith, in my mind, not lonely, just solitary. I grew acclimated to the sound of one set of footsteps on the floor and taking in sights I couldn't share. Now with him, I find words small, provincial when applied to what I experience within myself. When he shares his feelings, I feel how minuscule the words, and how vast the concepts.

His presence in my day, my thoughts, my life ignites my desires for him. I have never wanted anyone as I want him. I have debauched myself for a smile to curve his delicious mouth. His kiss on my lips haunts me. His humor draws deeply from the absurdity of life and splayed out by his side, nude, I laugh like I haven't in years. And how it feels when we finish and then the laughter jiggles bits in other bits and that deep voice of his teasingly admonishing me with my own words is pure sex. All the colors of my wanting, my needing, my hoping smeared in rainbows across the canvas of our life together.

Whatever it is that together we labor on with our intimacy, our love, our creative fun, and our safe harbor, it is unleashing me in ways I hadn't realized I was constrained. If there are limits to how he loves me or under what conditions I am lovable to him, I have never even glimpsed the fence. He seems to want my freedom perhaps more than I do even. Everything he does has that in mind. I see it even as he strives for me not to notice it. To have my needs and wants matched without judgment nor price extracted, such in life is exceedingly rare. My gifts to him are time, of which I have that in so much plenitude, freedom from my opinion lest he should actually ask it of me, I like knowing him without my influence, and space. I support him in his life at every opportunity and in any way I am able.

And the full catalog of my emotional excess, explained. This I shorthand this into the sack. He calls me fun. Fun! I adore him and wish to lick my adoration of his gifts off of him, slowly, and thoroughly. I guess I am fun. LOL. Now when I hear the doubting voices, I tell them resolutely to shut the f*ck up. And then I dream up a new way to embody desire for him turned into flesh. Because a man who cares deserves care in return but a man who loves and cares, deserves anything he can dream of riding him and then licking it up off of him. Mmmm...




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