Make Love to Me. Fuck Me.

Making love and fucking may reference the same thing, but they have two very different meanings, to me anyways. And I want both. I need both. I need you to understand.

Say the words out loud. The way the words flow from our mouths reveal much.

Making love. Say it. Do you hear it? The words sing like a soft, sensual melody, with your tongue luxuriously rolling to the top of your mouth on the last word. My eyes slowly close as I say the words.

Fuck. Say it. It punctuates, doesn't it? You can't help but feel power mouthing the Fu and accentuating the ending ck. And you start the word by biting your lower lip on the F. That really explains it all, doesn't it? Sets the pace for what is about to happen. And does your heart thump a little harder just saying the word? Mine does.

Maybe I am just a little too complicated. But, I need my mate to understand I need him to make love to me and I need him to fuck me.

Will you try to understand me?

All couples argue. We will be no different. If we have a deeper hurt, I need us to make love afterward to make things right between us. Face-to-face contact, particularly eye contact, will help us remember our love for one another. Slow, gentle lovemaking that takes time and patience, accompanied by thoughtful, unhurried touches, will reinforce our commitment to one another. Looking into each other's souls as you penetrate my softness will soothe hurt feelings. More time is needed.

In contrast, if we just have a little tiff, a hard fuck settles things. Our pain doesn't run deep and can be easily cast aside with a few deep thrusts. Lingering annoyances can be eradicated by orgasmic screams. Time is irrelevant.

Do you see the difference?

I describe making love with words like kissing, caressing, stroking, massaging, soothing, touching, and releasing.

I think of words like thrusting, spanking, plunging, pounding, and cumming when I think about fucking.

Do you see the difference?

I wonder what descriptors enter your mind when you say making love and fucking?

When I am feeling vulnerable and soft, I need you to make love to me. Please, start with a kiss. Gingerly cup my face, taste my lips, before moving down to my sensitive neck. Little nibbles will tell me what I need to know.

We slowly undress each other, taking turns, worshipping the sights unfolding before us. After each reveal, touching shows our appreciation for each other. You massage my breasts in your hands while rubbing your thumb over my nipple until it hardens. Setting the pace for our coupling, you keep your movements slow and touches soft. I return each of your touches with a touch of my own.

We experience a gentler exchange and slowly build to that magical moment when two become one. Breathing is slower. Voices are quieter. The mood is more romantic.

Other times, I need to feel sexy. I need to feel naughty. I need to ignite a fire in your cock. You don't need to start with a kiss. You can grab my breast, spank my ass, or pull me roughly to your body. I am a woman when I see an instant rise from you. Your cock swelling in your pants excites me. I become dirty as vulgar thoughts freely roam my mind. Feeling like I can be uninhibited with you furthers my intimacy and trust with you.

I love it when you unexpectedly come up behind me. You pull my hair to the side and bite my neck, with hands frantically seeking my nakedness. You bend me over the couch arm and urgently yank my panties down. Spreading my legs, your thick cock ravages my pussy. Pounding me. Seemingly breaking me in two. Groaning with me. Out of control with me. Unrestrained with me.

Please tell me you understand what I am describing to you.

Sometimes my racing mind keeps me from sleeping. You see me restlessly tossing and turning in my bed and want to relieve me of my torturous stresses. Whispering in my ear, you roll me onto my back. I feel my nightgown rising up and over my hips. My panties descend my legs. You press the backs of your hands on the inside of my knees, opening me up to you. Your warm breath on my sweet spot comforts me. Soft fingers stroke me, coaxing wetness from my pussy. My hips sway back and forth with your touches.

Your mouth licks every inch of me from my bottom up to my sensitive clit, where you linger -- tasting, licking, and pleasing. As your fingers contribute, I feel my tummy tightening. Thoughts of your mouth and fingers overtake all others. My mind is trapped between my legs in these moments. As my breath quickens, I know relief will soon follow. You feel it coming, and apply more pressure, willing me to release now. I come. You hold my legs and nuzzle my mound as all the day's worries wash away. Sliding back up to me, you kiss my cheek, slide my nightgown back down over my bottom, and tuck me in the soft covers. A sound sleep awaits me.

Other times, you just need to get off. I understand. I honor you and you know you can come to me. Your hands press on my shoulders, dropping me to my knees before you. As I look up at you, you see my submission in my eyes. You have earned my trust, so I willingly submit to you. I free your needy cock and stroke you -- up and down, up and down, long smooth strokes. My hands lengthen you. Cupping your balls, I kiss your tip with my lips, before giving you the head you want. Nothing makes you feel more virile than seeing your big cock in my tiny mouth. You coach my speed and intensity. I immediately obey. Your balls tighten and you take control, holding my head steady between your hands, while you fuck my mouth. You cum -- hard.

Do you see the give and take? Do you see the balance I need?

If we only fucked, I might feel used. Or maybe like a fuck toy. I need to know you value my whole, not just the delicious parts between my legs.

Do you understand? Am I too demanding?

When we make love and your face is inches from mine, you acknowledge my heart, my intelligence, my sensitivity, my sweetness, and my value. My face divulges what my pussy will not. I want you to know all of me.

When you fuck me from behind, I am a wild animal. You can't see my eyes. You just see my sex. And sometimes that is what I want. It is freeing to feel so raw and untamed in these moments. I don't care what I look like. I don't care what I sound like. Our erotic sounds, unrepressed, explode from deep within ourselves. It is unimaginably freeing.

It is a delicate balance for me. I need both hard and soft. Iam hard and soft.

Do you understand the difference between making love and fucking?

Can you give me what I need?