learning how to tell you

I can fuck you like that. I can grab you and pull at your pants. I can sneak up behind you when you’re smoking and reach around to your belt. I can make you forget where you are with my arms wrapped around you, my hands in your pants. “Oh,” you say, surprised. “Yes,” I answer.

I like to fuck you like this sometimes. Out of the blue. Quickly. Quietly. Then go pour myself a drink and sit down to read. Later, I’ll overtake you in the bedroom. Wild and rough. I’ll pull your hair tight and shove your mouth on my cock. I’ll wrap your wrists together and jam my fingers into your mouth, then your pussy. I’ll fuck you again right after you come. Holding your shoulders down, I’ll move my hips and pull my cock out slowly.

Let’s keep moving. Always changing. Make ourselves unrecognizable a year from now. But I’ll remember you as you are now. I’ll remember how it started. Always. Yes. Come here.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a burning desire to find you in my bed when there’s nothing to do and nowhere to be for days so I can grab you and fuck you like I want just like I want for as long as I want with my hand splayed out between your shoulder blades pressing you into the mattress and my cock pushing against your pussy when I shift so my thighs press against the backs of your own and my hip bones are up on your ass that starts to lift and show me what you want as if it’s automatic when my weight hits you and my cock rubs against you how you moan and can’t resist but want it hot and urgent and now right now fuck me daddy right now and I want you now right now I want to fuck you like I like to do babygirl and you rub your pussy against my cock begging me to fuck you and not just with the tip that I tease you with backing away keeping you wanting and warm holding off until I know you’ll gasp and moan and settle in for this fuck and now I’m ready and I choose the moment and slam the full length of my shaft inside you and hold it deep inside your pussy rocking slowly but forcefully with a hum and a thrust while my head hangs over your neck with my mouth open my lips heavy my tongue reaching out for you but I want to hold my chest up above you and watch your back move and your own mouth fall open as you moan deeper with my cock inside your sweet fucking pussy so deep inside and fast now fast so fast I sweat against the small of your back and a slick wetness grows between our thighs and even under my palm that I look at and see how my own belly flushes red like your flushed red face colored by the blood that shifts inside you and moves to the surface of your skin to cool itself but the air around us is hot as we fuck and heat up this room until you are so close and telling me how close and I squeeze my eyes shut and fuck you with everything I have with every intention and all my desire and the stars that made us seem to burn together in one bright burst right when your hand makes a fist and you tell me you’re there and I stay hard inside you deep with this last push and pulse staying deep oh yes deep oh baby sweet baby how I want you sometimes and this is what two in the morning looks like on those nights some nights like tonight and now right now

“Take off your clothes. I want you to walk through these rooms while I sit here at the table drinking coffee. Thank you for the coffee. For all the coffees.”

She stares at me. Showered. Dressed. Her bag over her shoulder. I stare at her. I see her realize that I’m serious. I see that recognition in her eyes. She sets her bag down and pulls her shirt over her head. She leans against the table as she takes off her sandals.

“Everything,” I tell her. She looks at me and then turns her back to me as she takes off her bra and slides her pants to the floor. She’s naked. Looking away. “I want to see you walk through these rooms. I want your image, your body, flowing through them.”

She walks slowly. She moves past me into the kitchen. These rooms have beautiful light. The morning streams in through the windows. She runs her hand down my arm as she passes by me again. “Everywhere,” I ask and she walks around the table and me.

I don’t get up to follow her. I close my eyes and sip my coffee imagining her as I hear her in the hallway and then my bedroom. I hear her on the stairs and the muffled sounds of her moving in downstairs rooms.

When she’s done she comes and gathers her clothes. She moves into a different room to get dressed. She looks at me from the front door and lifts her hand to me. We wave. “Goodbye,” I tell her. She flips the latch and I hear the door open. The tug to pull it all the way closed makes a dull thud.

I finish my coffee and look around me. I see her image traced through the room in a line like a photograph with multiple exposures. A Chinese dragon dancing across the floorboards.

The light is so beautiful this morning. I stare out the window at the brightness of it until I see shadows of trees everywhere I look. Burned on my vision. Even when I close my eyes.

We break our own hearts.

I’ve said it before and it’s true. I broke my heart today. I’d been breaking off little pieces for months but today I let my whole heart shatter. Shiny bits of it cling to me, greedy and confused.

You can’t do this piecemeal. You have to be bold. Make sure it breaks so completely there’s no way to put it back together.

My heart isn’t gone. It’s everywhere. I can feel everything. And I’m in love with it all.

I sweat when I fuck. Not just a little. My back and belly get slick with sweat. I get hot to the touch, surprisingly so. There’s a switch. A pull chain somewhere. I can’t hide my desire. You feel it on my skin.

Hot. Wet.

I love it when you ride me. When I’ve been fucking you on top or from behind and then we shift and I’m on my back, knees bent, lifting my hips, pushing up into you. You lean back, your chest and belly like a runway, and I reach my hand to your warm, wet pussy. Your clit, swollen under my thumb.

I love it because we feel the sweat between us.

I love it when we’re fucking and you squirt and I feel the warm stream of your ejaculate running over my thighs and between my legs, pooling beneath us.

Hot. Wet. Messy.

This is fucking. This is how we fuck. Abandoning all logic.

I watch your skin stretch over your belly as you lean back. I open my mouth and imagine your nipple on my tongue, my teeth clenched, holding you. A sacrament. I laugh realizing my tongue is stretched out long, pleading.

When you come, you curl over me. Your breasts brush against mine. I hold your jaw and flick my tongue in your mouth. My tongue felt lost without you and punishes you for it now. We breathe like horses and kiss until we’re calm.

This is how it is when we fuck.

What can I do? I’m useless.

I can fuck you. Erase everything. Lift you up for a moment. Press you down hard against the cushions. Easy. I can squeeze your hands in mine and shove your cheek against the fabric. My hand flat on your chest. I’ll spit at you; yell. Screaming how much I want you. Making you hear me. Pushing everything else out of your mind.

I force you. Force. Push. Hold you tight. Move you where I want. Position you. You don’t resist. You look out at me behind something I don’t recognize in your eyes. You grab and pull me harder against you and slap yourself with my hands. I hear you grind your teeth.

It’s my honor to rise to your call. You push me this way, wanting me to control you more. I feel it. When I slap your hands away from me and bind them over your head, you settle for a moment. You hush. When I clamp my hand tight across your mouth, I feel a jolt go through you. It’s like this. A surge. A hush. Calm but alive. The taught wire, the tension when I push you down underneath me. The bright way you writhe beside me. I whisper in your ear all the things I want to do next. You know there is always more.

You demand me and I rise to meet you. Next time I will do as I said. I’ll bend you over and jerk your pants down just enough. You’ll hear my belt. I’ll push you into the cushions and tell you to put your hands where I can see them, flat. I want to see your veins. I want to watch your skin flush red. And I will.

My fingers, stiff, where my cock would be, press against your pussy. “Say it for me,” I whisper. You moan in response but it’s not enough for me, “Say it. Tell me.” My belt buckle clicks out a rhythm. I push my stiff fingers against you, teasing just at the edge of your hole. I grab your hip. You wiggle against me, breathing louder, thinking you can tempt me this way, but I know how to wait. I need you to ask me. I want to hear your voice. When you’re ready for me like this, it’s a deep, husky sound. It’s animal. It makes me twitch. “Fuck me, goddamn it” you finally say, sounding annoyed. You’re stubborn. That streak in you, so strong.

I pounce when you break and ask me. Three fingers jam into you. Feel me, big, inside you. I reach around and push against your clit, press it flat in my hand and slowly rub. My other hand moves quick and deep inside you. I want you confused. I want your pussy confused and mine to fuck and tease and enjoy. “I love your pussy,” I tell you. “My cunt,” you answer. “Your cunt,” I agree. “You just like pussy,” you say, sounding like a bitch, knowing I’ll react. I respond with a sudden grip on your neck, my fingers sticky. I want you to smell yourself. I drag my fingers across your lips. “Shut up,” I whisper and go back to fucking you, being slow about it. Dragging my fingers down the back of your shirt.

“Is this what you wanted?” I ask, with my fingers shoved back inside you. You’ve made me rougher. I’m pounding into you harder and with less control. You don’t answer. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your head turned to the side. Your hands still where I can see them. Knuckles now bent slightly. Your fingers poised to crawl. I fuck you hard, stiff, unrelenting. I want to fuck you like this and never stop. I don’t stop.

When you come, I watch you struggle in the time it takes before you can push me away from you. I always want more. I crawl on top of you and you tell me, “No,” but within minutes your hips are moving against me, calling. I will rise up. New. Something new again. Always. You entice me. You make me want to find more. You appreciate me. You get me like no one else. You laugh when you see me work at it. You know how serious I am and you laugh it away. You slap away my intensity and make me go wild, deeper down, always finding more. You get me. You see how useless I feel and put me to work.

And then there is that afternoon when the air is newly hot and heavy. And construction is suddenly everywhere loudly banging and sawing and grumbling somewhere on the street. And we are sad and exhausted, each in her own way.

This is when we lean against each other. You move the book off my lap and rest your back against me. I wrap my arms around you and listen to your stories of the day. My hands find your hip bones, your ribs just below your heavy breasts. I am adoring you and listening.

As my hands prowl, you lean your head back and turn your face towards me. You kiss my neck and your breathing deepens. My belly, my hands get hot and you feel me start to burn. You lift the edges of my shirt, pull my clothes away from me. You grab my hands and move them over you. When I move on top of you and suck on your neck, it is salty and warm.

We’re moving without thinking now. Here. Now here. Like this. Your hand on mine. I see your fingers moving under your bra and I push you aside with my mouth. My teeth pinch your nipple. I feel you get hard in my mouth. I hear your delight in it. Yes. More. Like that. Stay here with me. Stay in this. The warm air.

Later, my hips lift and my palms press flat against the wall. I shudder and fall. Grab you to me. Hold you. Let you go. Watch you reach down between your legs while I wrap myself around you. I breathe against your jaw and don’t know what I do or say anymore. The description is lost to you. Only yours. You. The look on my face when you turn to me. Yours. I only know it from the look you give back to me. The way your eyes smile at me when you kiss me last. When we hold each other just a little longer.

Nearby there’s a jackhammer ripping up the asphalt. It’s louder than I’d noticed. I hold you and feel the sound rattle in my chest. “I love you,” I whisper, lost in the noise. But you’ve heard me say it so often, it doesn’t matter if you hear it now.