I don’t want sex, I want the things that lead up to it. The slow kissing then the passionate kissing, then the pulling closer, the neck kisses, the grabbing, biting, heavy breathing, grinding, the pauses while you catch your breath, feeling each other. Oh my.
And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
—Sylvia Plath (via ellaeracomolaluna)
Hold my hand and touch my butt. Plant kisses on my forehead and give me neck hickies. Hold me gently then fuck me hard. I want to be softly embraced and uncontrollably desired.