Thursday, 31 March 2011

Meaningless Sex.

I have this fantasy where I'm walking along the street, and a gorgeous man is walking towards me. As he gets closer, I see the dark stubble framing his mouth, his hair pushed back messily. His eyes never once leave mine, and without saying a word, we're kissing, and falling back into some place where our hands wander with this intense desire.
His mouth teases mine, our voices breathless and raged as we rush to feel ourselves against one another. We have no inhabitions, no insecurity. In that moment, all we care about is one another as our skin collides. And when his jeans are finally push down his thick calf muscles, and my knickers pushed to one side, his strong arms reach out a
nd lift me up into his arms. And slamming me against the wall, he enters me and it's like this extociating, exhilerating moment when I can't concentrate on anything other than this man, as his body pulsates against me. And it's better than any sex before. It defines everything we hear about sex. How it makes every part of your body practically tinglewith pleasure. How its one of the best feelings your body can experience, and a moment when two people are truly connected.
And afterwards, I don't even care whether or not I see him again.
It was just about the moment, and about sex.

I just don't want to be judged, or stereotyped by society.

No comments:

Post a Comment