December 7, 2015

To the Men We Love Who F*ck Us Breathless. {Adult}

Pixaby

I bow to you, the men who leave us breathless.

You have mastered the complexity of what it means to love a woman.

Perhaps when you were new to us, you found love at the hand of some generous teacher, someone who knew that to receive one must give.

Someone who wasn’t shy to share her needs; a woman who armed you with ways to break the rest of us open, like a seedpod that spills itself under the right kind of pressure.

Or perhaps you have always been intuitive in the art of making love. Perhaps you understand how to tune us like the delicate but powerful instrument that we are.

You know that while we sometimes like to be on top taking charge of your magnificence, the times that you demand our surrender are the most exhilarating of all.

Because you approach us with a force that splinters the air between us.

Because your hands take us hostage, rush the breath from our lungs.

Because your mouth insists on taking every moan as a reply to your hunger.

Because your body against ours is the rock that we can rely on.

Because your words light a fire that can safely consume us.

Sometimes we just need a man who knows what he’s doing.

Some nights it’s so good to let go of all the things that we take care of, and face you honestly, our authenticity an aphrodisiac for a man with your character.

To know that you’re not going to ask us what we want, how we like it; because you know our skin like you know your own, because our needs are what you are so diligently focused on.

It’s in your eyes, in the way you say our name, in the way you turn us around and keep us guessing where you tongue will play.

It’s in the way you confidently undress us, the gruffness of your voice.

It’s in the way you show us that we’re worth every second of your illicit attention.

A man like you resists our pleas for mercy, while our eyes close and our mouths reach for the thing you use to tease us with.

Thank you for knowing us enough to please us.

Thank you for giving without expectation of receiving.

Thank you for finding the secret places that thrill us, and whispering such tender and freely given “I love you’s.”

For letting us fall shamelessly into our fantasies; for not being afraid of the way we express our sexuality.

For knowing that women are capable, but that giving in to pleasure is a healer; that our darkness can match any request you throw out in your passion. For focusing on the experience and not demanding an orgasm… and for rocking our world when you do take us there.

Thank you for the look of confidence on your face, when you tell us what we’ll be getting, and kissing us senseless while you’re doing it.

It’s not the money, or the wine or the presents that you bring us, it’s the way you sink to your knees and explore us.

It’s the way you erase our day’s worries with the rocking of your hips. The way you hold us close as we scream out your name.

Men who know how to f*ck and leave us breathless know that we’re fragile and we’re strong and that neither is a bad thing, it’s what makes us irresistible.

Lovers like you create space for our energy to expand like a blossoming flower.

There is room to float in an endless sea of gratitude for the moments of intimacy that women need to connect emotionally.

Men who know how to f*ck us breathless take control while we free fall into bliss.

Your word is your command but also it’s your honor. We can trust the places you’ll take us with your hands and your mouth and your body.

Men like this are not perfect but they’re committed to giving us their best love.

So take me wordlessly, take my fire, take me with your dirty talk, take me softly, take me where I can no longer walk, tie my hands, shake my hair loose, ask for safe words, unleash all that’s wild and forbidden.

F*ck me breathless, f*ck me yours.

Men who know how to f*ck us breathless make women better for having known them.

Thank you for making us better lovers, better at being vulnerable, better at sharing what makes us women.

Thank you for being open. We adore that.

 

 

Bonus:

 

Relephant:

I am Tired of Men wanting to F*ck me, but not Love Me. {Adult}

 

 

Author: Monika Carless

Editor: Renée Picard

Image: Pixaby

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