december 31 2023

it’s new year’s eve and i’m crying after sex. little tears - wet, dainty things. he giggles at me and tells me i can cry if i want to, it’s okay. a kiss on my forehead. i lean into him, bury myself in the rhythm of his breathing.

i love his hands, heavy palm against my softness, two thick fingers hooked inside, full mouth on my nipple, other hand intertwining my braids, pulling my head back, fully exposing my neck. my ass is in the air, my panties dangle around my knees. i am soaking wet, rippling with desire, vibrating with want. 

“fuck me. love me. please.”

i like sex that overwhelms me, the feeling of too muchness, pleasure and pain and reward and punishment and release and restraint. i am a strange and dangerous woman but i want to be a good girl for him. it’s depraved, what love does to a person. it scares me. i have never been this gentle, this fleshy, this voracious, this open to the world and all its goodness and calamity. 

true love is arresting, perplexing, terrifying, forgiving.