Mixed Signals

Make me give in.
Make me submit.
Make me call out.
Make me realize your power.
Make me trust your instincts.
Make me need you.
Make me meditate on you.

Either validate this fantasy or make me move on.

Are you emitting platonic vibes? And my body’s receptors are miscalibrated?
Or are you fucking with me?
And when I give in, and claim my desire… each thrust will be a confirmation of your power over the weak?
I don’t want to be the oxygen for your ego.
But I could be the home for your need to please.
And for release.

I just crave to know your style, to know what you’d do, to know how you’d touch me.
It’s enough to make me go there, and stop because it’s too much.
Too much pleasure makes me breathe hard and arch my back.
And feel empty.

Fuck it. I want to be bent over a pool table and shown my own need.

I want you to trip me up the stairs. Flip me.
And look into my eyes as you push my hands above my head.
Your eyes will scream, “I can’t wait!”
While your hands travel from behind my back to my ass,
To my calf, to my thigh, to my true ache.
With each stroke my nipples will get more tense.
Until you peel everything away with your teeth, and make me forget I’m human.

Bite me. Harder.

Then my mind won’t be able to abstain any longer.
I will need to feel you inside of me.
First your hand, which has warmed me up to intimate touch.
Your fingers can explore and find their own rhythm.

And I will react. Loudly.

And I will need to take over for a moment.
When I get there, I will need to push you away.
And pull you to me in the same instant.

I will need to flip you and explore you with my mouth.
More biting than licking.
But you will like my licking too much.
And you will take it.

And I will need to touch myself, and feel where I am.
I will need to find your core and understand how I have had power over you as well.
My humility at seeing my effect on you will make me desperate to suck on you.
In appreciation of your own need.

Before I can truly please you, my own body will become angry.
And hurt at being forgotten.
I will need to mount you.

I will need to feel the intensity of your passion and my passion intermingled.
I will need to understand the drive for the ache.
I will dance on top of you until we meet perfectly and in rhythm.

I will need music. Unpretentious and with a beat.
I will need to distance myself, and imagine that I am interacting with the physical manifestation of the music.
It will only be me and the music.

Until you admit your affection.

Then my mind will spiral into reality and confusion,
But my body will throw off boundaries.
I will climb onto you and ride you like judgment never existed.