Matter

2 min read

I pace in the shower, shifting my weight from side to side. My head hangs low as the water streams down my hair, bouncing off my breasts before it hits the ground. The water dissipates, spreading thin across the floor until its particles are non existent.

I’m trying to think of something that will turn you on. I want to bring you into my body. I want you to read the wavelengths of my sexual thoughts. I want you to hear my heart pump faster as I feel the sensations of my thoughts in my bones. I want you to feel my pussy pulse when it all culminates.

I want you.

I stand in the shower wondering. Is it easy or difficult to maintain a captivating sexual relationship? Many of you will answer under your breath “it’s easy if you’re with the right person” — but what does that even mean? How can you predict: 5, 10, 15 years from now? How do you know you won’t struggle? Repetition and long exposure to any one thing can drive monotony. I suppose the same can be said for any aspect of a relationship. How will you build your principles for a sustainable relationship and (some would argue more importantly) your intimate relationship? I strive to create energy out of my physical matter. I thrive off of the challenge of sustainability in a sexually heightened relationship.

My clothes are scattered across his floor like litter in a city alleyway. He leans over exposing his bare bottom as he rummages through the assortment of items near his bedroom door. He stands up, throwing my skirt on his head like a ball cap. He walks over to his mirror with a skip in his step. He gives me just enough time to catch his humorous outfit and chuckle before he swipes my short black skirt from his head and throws it at me. ‘Get dressed,’ he insinuates.

He’s a lovable cute boy and he knows it.

My body stretches off the bed as I gather my clothes, placing them one by one on my cold bare skin. My nipples are still hard, and my pussy still wet. I lean back on the covers as he walks away. I inhale the scent of the diffuser on his nightstand.

Fresh.

Its scent fills my lungs as I breathe out slowly. I’ve been fucking him for a few years now and it still feels fresh. When I enter his apartment his first touch never feels like the last. When he closes the door goodbye his kiss always feels like the first. When he pulls me on to his bed my body begins to transform. Every shift in the movement I feel. The weight of my toes pressing against the mattress, and the softness of his hand against my skin as I lean into his naked body. Suddenly, the particles that make up my body are alive; dancing in circles around me, twisting and turning me back and forth, up and down. I feel my nipples bounce along inside the weight of the world, it all turns to matter in a weightless manner.

I feel my last orgasm approach as he throws his physical force into me. My heart pounds, my head fills with oxygen and my lungs gasp for air. I dissolve into his arms as my pussy pulses against his cock.

You break apart my matter.

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