Sex

Maaaan so I've been thinking.

God, I want to touch you. You don't even want to know all of things I want to do with you. And I'm thinking up new things all the time. I mean, seriously. I want to sex you six ways from Sunday. Do things with you that would make The Weeknd blush. There is absolutely no end to the things I would be willing to try, at least twice, if it's with you.

But in truth… what do I actually know about you, and sex?

Oh, I know that body of yours turns me on like nobody's business. I know I've gotten sprung just seeing those hips from five houses down. I know I've finished with nothing more than the image of your eyes floating before me.

Yeah, I know about you and sex.

But I don't about you, and sex. What you like. What you don't like. Where your limits are. How interested you are in pushing them. How often. How hard. Can I slap your ass. Can I put you in handcuffs. Will you tell me what to do. Will you put me in restraints. Where do you most like to be touched. Can I tell you what to do. Are you all about the journey, or just focused on the destination. What's your O face look like. How many times can you make it in one night. Toys or no toys. Do you trust me. Where do you take it. Spit or swallow. Do you have an IUD. Should I get a vasectomy. Can we do it with the lights on. Can we do it in the broad daylight. Can we do it on the dining room table. Can we do it in the backyard. Always horizontal, or can we go vertical from time to time. What are you willing to do with your tongue. Where are you willing to let me put mine. What do you like to do after. When will you say you love me. Will you call out my name. Will hearing it in your voice push me over the edge. Can you get me going again (I can answer that one: yes, unquestionably). Can I get you going again. How many fingers. How about for that one. Are you noisy. Can I make you noisy. Can we do it again. And again. And again. Would you like me to tell you I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

And god, when can I find out?