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It's been a while. And I've been thinking of you. Ships crossing in the night, whether it's due to work, life, or circumstance, we just haven't had much time together. So we relax when we go get that downtime.
But what if we didn't? What if I surrendered to those thoughts, those needs, those baser urges that you always stir in me? Let me tell you about them.
I want to be on you, the moment you're in the door. A welcome home kiss turned into something more, more urgent, more needy, lips meeting yours again as my hands roam greedily over your body. Pulling you against me, so you can feel me, how badly I want you like this. Not later, not when we're in bed and fatigue tugs at us, not even on the couch when we're absently scrolling through whatever we'll pretend to watch while we actually scroll on our phones mindlessly.
I want to ambush you, attack you, leave no doubt. Whether I'm pulling your skirt up or pushing my hand under the snug fabric of your pants, I need you gasping, moaning, grinding, needing it as bad as I do when my fingers push inside you. To know that I want to rip your top open, feast on your chest, surrender to the instinct I deny over and over again in the service of being polite or proper, and just enjoy you instead.
Against the door, or wall, or bent over the counter, not waiting to take what I need from you, or waiting until one of us can say no. I want you, right now, right when you get home.
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