I Want
I want time.
Someone who kisses me, long and slow, makes it seem like we could do this for hours…
because we could.
I want control.
A hand in my hair, gripping hard, pulling back my head and then biting my neck.
I want comfort.
Hands held at night as we drift to sleep.
Starting another day together with a kiss on my knuckles.
I want sex.
Languid and meaningful and all consuming, sweaty and sensual and connected.
Hard fucking that still feels like we’re making love.
I want security.
To never wonder if this is the last time because there is no last time until we die.
I want a future.
Planning things: adventures and vacations and grocery runs.
I want energy.
To feel that spark but also grounded and comforted and protected.
I want affection.
Kisses just because.
Back scratches and head scritches.
I want passion.
To fuck, fall asleep, and wake up with hands on me ready to go again.
And again.
And again.
Someone who will cum inside me.
Feel their warmth filling me and then the stickiness seeping out.
I want babies.
So many babies.
Cubby limbs and cute little toes.
With my curly hair and dark eyes staring back at me like mirrors.
I want more.
More than just casual sex.
More than just the best orgasms.
I want you after sex too.
I want a partner.
Someone to love me just as good as how you fuck me.
Another set of hands to change the diapers.
A sounding board for my goals and worries.
A lover, confidant, and a friend.
I want…
I want…
I want to feel worthy of all the things that I want.
I want to know, to believe, that they will come true.
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