HOPELESS ROMANTIC

In spite of what I may have written lately, I have a romantic side.

It's one of the reasons we had trouble in our relationship.

I needed it, and he didn't seem to think it was important.

Trust me...if your significant other likes romance, it's important.

If you think romance consists of a blowjob and a quick fuck, you're sadly mistaken.

You don't have to buy a dozen roses to impress someone...at least if she isn't the type to expect more.

I always thought a single daisy would be so nice...better than a bunch. A single one seems more meaningful, for some reason.

But I only got flowers from him...maybe twice, when we were together.

He always insisted on giving me something I needed...instead of what I wanted.

He never realized that maybe what I needed IS what I wanted.

I wanted so much to have his fingers on my face...caressing me.

Kisses on my cheek, my lips, my shoulder.

I wanted him to look me in the eye in when he slid inside me...when he slowly had me...when he surrendered to me...and when I surrendered to him.

I still want all of this.

I want to hear my name being spoken with passion...tenderness...excitement...and love.

I want someone who will gently push me down on the bed and taste me like he's starving.

I want to devour him until he's losing whatever control he has over his passions.

I want to be held against him.

I want to listen to his breathing...to his heartbeat.

I want to talk in bed, in the dark. Fuck, I miss that so much. Talking about anything and everything. Making plans together, sharing an old childhood memory, laughing and crying.

I want to make love together. That wonderful, slow, languid fuck that drives you crazy with every stroke, bringing you so close to cumming, but not just yet...everything is perfectly wet, tight, and full. It's difficult to breathe. You hardly say a word to each other, because you don't need to.

The look on both your faces is all you need to show one another how you feel, both physically and emotionally.