Unholy Sweet Hell.

Baby, just in case you think I have a one-track mind, just wanted to remind you that it's you that I love. That marvelous, wonderful, beautiful, sweet, kind, ambitious, amazing woman who I never even thought to look for, but yet who showed up almost right outside my door. Who sees me and offers me safe haven. Who I could spend hours with, whether chatting endlessly or in companionable silence. The woman who seems intent on finding her way into my heart via my stomach, seemingly forgetting that she's already got permanent residency there. The woman whose voice I could listen to endlessly, and never tire of it…

Wanna remind you that I love you as much as I think any one person can possibly ever love another, maybe more. That each and every long, long second that we're apart, my entire existence aches for your presence. That even when I'm occupied, even when I'm so busy, there's always a space for you, always some part of me thinking about you, wondering what you're up to, how you're doing, if you're thinking of me…

I. Love. You.

To pieces.

But, babe.

Babe.

You put on those leggings. And then walk in front of me. Deliberately, as far as I can tell, what with our usual pattern…

Just… don't be surprised if I don't manage to keep the instinctual “Oh, my dear lord…” in the intended subvocal range.

I mean, god. Fuck. Shit. Holy sweet hell.

That…

That…

Fuck, man. Nothing. Nothing compares, babe. Nothing compares to you.

And me, with no alone time. Unlike you, you delicious little piece of candy you. My sweet little red hot, spicing up these nuts…

Of course, sometimes you leave me wondering… are you really toeing right up to the line? Or is my brain just all the way down in the gutter?

‘Cuz, I mean. Change one letter and squint real hard at that emoji you sent earlier and part of me can't help but wonder if you weren't telling me exactly how you spent your morning…

Hm. Or not. Probably just wishful thinking.

Regardless.

Fuck. Man… the things I'm gonna do, once I get my hands on……………

Fuck.

Shamelessly Yours.

PS — Oh, and baby… if you were worried… I wouldn't ever wanna keep you locked up for too long. Frankly not sure if I have enough control over even myself for that…