coming

i will go psychotic by the end of the week.

i can already feel the crunch, the twist in my bones as i move my body in motion to try and offset the inevitable. for this is worse because i know that it's coming.

and i used to laugh, maybe not quite like that, but didn't really, truly understand when people complained. the response was a basic 'so? why are you complaining?' i didn't really understand since i had no point of reference. cause if i'm not sexually active, you can't really expect me to sympathize with someone who is and not getting any. at most it's a half sympathetic pat on the back. and now i'm in their position.

i need you to fuck me, for the next time i see you it will have been a week. but even more basic than that, i just need you to touch me. trace the back of my neck, run your fingers through my hair, while you kiss me, as i blow you, during a pause when you stop moving to grind yourself into me. cup my breasts, bite the undersides of them and pinch my nipples. trace the lines of my ribs, my stomach, tighten your fingers around my hips as you fuck me. finger me, lick me, hold me still as you have your way with me. bite me. everywhere you can reach and when i wake up the next morning i want to see marks on my neck, so deep i'll be unable to hide them. for just the sight of them will keep me going for days.

i need you. whether to love me, kiss me, break me, fuck me, hold me, touch me, fucking send me over the edge in your arms. for i want there to be no way for me to forget the feeling as you touch me.

need

kiss me. harder than before, to reach the point where i am trying to climb into you. grab my hair at the back of my neck and pull my head back. bite me again and again, hard enough, deep enough so there is no possible way for me to hide the bruises on my neck in the morning. wrap your arms around me, dig your fingers into my hips or my ass as i straddle your lap and force me to you so i can feel your erection against my jeans, because i really love it when you can't help it. tell me what you want to do to me, or better yet, whisper orders in my ear. i'll probably follow them. strip me. lay me on my stomach, press my face into the bed, pinch my nipples and restrain me with your body. fuck me. hard. deep. then hard. tie my wrists down, finger me and don't listen when i say no, for i might come like that. please. fuck me. hard.
and when it's over, i'll need you to do it again.

only girl in the world

there are the times when i am left with the memory of my feelings for you. the pale yellow sheen of the lights in the night, the red of passing vehicles on the way home in the dark, the faint echo of rihanna from the basement stereo as i dance, lay myself back along the guest bed in the middle of the rec room, feel the slide of my jeans against my hips, the press of my breasts against my bra as my stomach collapses in with each breath and the imagined sensation that you are with me.
i can hear the creak of the bed as you approach me, the rustle as i open my legs and the press of your weight as you pin me down, my legs around your hips, my arms wrapped around your back, my teeth in your neck as you begin to overpower everything i have in me.

take me for a ride. bite me, kiss me gently, slide your hands under my shirt, pin my wrists to either side of my head, force your crotch against mine without removing my jeans so i whimper when i feel your erection against my body and can do nothing about it.
i want you to fuck me, i want you to kiss me, i want you to smile, laugh, hold my hand in the daytime, hold my body in the night. i want you to want me and am willing to make compromises i had never considered before. i'll do anything to be your girl, your lover, your fuck buddy, your sweetheart. i'll give you a terrifying control over the whole situation.
and i had never considered that it would come to this. the silence wrapped around my heart as i smile when you talk, breathing shallow as i try to build my momentum for a move. any move at this point. i tell myself that you know, that this will work, should work, i want to make it work, for the first time ever i am not afraid of myself. i can make it work.
i want to be the only girl in the world. i want you to make me feel, bite my heart softly, gently pry my ribs open with a crack, kiss me slowly between smiles as you give me my false impression of your love.
for unfortunately, you never wanted me the way i wanted you, the way i thought you did before it was all over.

encompassing fever

i can barely look him in the eyes
as i raise my head
wishing that I had longer hair
to help obscure my face
to make me look demure
to overcome the sinking
sensation that i am failing
at being a woman as he places
his hand on the nape of my neck
and tilts me back until i
can see him clearly
good girl
he whispers as he places
his other hand over my eyes
so i can’t see him
as he bends down to kiss me
slow softly gently as if
he’ll never stop
and i am wondering
when the pain will begin
his fingers over my eyes open
just enough for me to see
the curve of his ear through the crack of them
and i bite his bottom lip gentle enough
not to draw blood hard
enough to come back
and the gasp that comes with it
is delightful
slowly i run my hands up
the edges of his sides under
the soft fabric of his shirt and across
his nipples once twice three times
to make him gasp pull my hair
and lean into the confines of this kiss
as if i am the only thing in this world
that is capable to holding him up
i love you i mutter as the words stumble
off my lips in the free moments i have
to breathe his fingers digging into my hips
the pull of my jeans an anchor
that locks me to him as i slide my legs between his
and push him backwards onto the bed
before he can react
fast enough my legs around his hips
my crotch pressing down on his as i try
to steady my weight while
my fingers are in his hair as he pulls at me
scratches his way down my back
kisses my lips my neck in an all encompassing fever
our attempt to make
this moment last forever

panty snatcher

short hair, worn jeans, rolled sleeves with the hint of tattoos rolling down the length of her forearms. preferably riding a bike, or driving a truck, cigarette between her lips even though i can't stand the smell of smoke. some one i'd let fuck me in the back seat of a car in public, her hand clamped over my mouth so i can't scream when i come. she'd leave me on the corner of a street downtown, my panties in her pocket, red bruises trailing down my neck and my cum on her lips as she drives away.
even after all that i don't think i'd be capable of loving her.