I adore your femininity. Allow me to wash you hair gently, kissing you intermittently and applying your favorite brand of conditioner. I know it’s something simple, but you look beautiful with your hair wrapped in a towel after a long hot shower. When you curl your hair it reminds me of my grandmother, using her hair pins and rollers. The fresh scent of conditioner and shampoo on you flame desires within me. If you’re too busy to get your feet professionally done, you do your own pedicures with exquisite perfection. Sometimes, you even allow the colors of your manicures and pedicures to be my decision. You know that my favorite colors on you are dark purple, flamingo hot pink, beige cream and plum. Gloss polish is brushed on sanded and filed toes with precision. Curled hair that falls past your shoulders is beautiful and feminine; you look absolutely stunning when you put in your diamond earrings. Smooth moisturized legs without stockings, look so sexy in heels, size seven. If I may say again, it is so subtly beautiful and feminine — like lipstick from a lip imprint on a white napkin. At the end of the day, I massage your feet draped with gold anklets; your perfume still floral and heavenly, erotically intoxicates me. I sit and watch as you slowly take off your makeup in your vanity as you speak to me lovingly.
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Morning light highlights the faces of lovers who truly love each other, and with sincere tears, kisses, and beautiful whispers, made vows at midnight to be together forever.
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I inquired of an angel all things celestial and ethereal. I asked her the secrets of her existence that make her immortal. I asked her to take me with her on her ascension to heaven so I could leave the pain behind. She said these words lovingly, looking into my eyes — My beloved, your ascension will come with time; I know there has been deep pain and tears for many years, but look at the scenes of your life, you have conquered your fears. The things that cause you sorrow have been already removed from your life. You are stronger than you realize. It was then that she touched my crying eyes, kissed me, and said, Sleep now, and there will be a new beginning in you when you arise.
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When resentment seeps in and uncaring whisperings, is when the blooming of love has come to its final ending. It is like a beautiful painting eternally unfinished, but it is so good in the beginning; the intimacy, communication, affection and fucking are always so good in the beginning. Then come expensive lawyers, divorce proceedings, and scheduled visitations.
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Contemplation floods in with incessant whisperings of what could have been. Memories disturb my peace and sleep without remorse. Four walls tell me that I’ll never find love again. Fuck them.
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She is strong, yet delicate.
She is emotional, yet reticent.
She is openly sensual, yet privately deeply intimate.
She is outspoken, yet her spirit is quiet.
She is fierce, yet compassionate. -
Let us commune with each other, lie together, and cry together over the pain that makes our bond stronger; I swear on my deceased mother, not my father, that I love you now, and I will love you forever.
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You are loving and irreplaceable. The comfort of you is that of the warmth of an angel. The bond you share with the precious gift that you gave birth to is unbreakable. You are a vast field of roses in morning dew. You are a nurturing presence to all who need you. You are deeply loved; if no one has told you, let me now say thank you as an expression of my gratitude. The feminine softness of you is earth’s hidden jewel. You and all who love you are forever inseparable. There would be no new life without you. You are wonderful. You are truly beautiful.
Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers and expectant mothers.
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Physical and emotional wants and needs are satisfied at a designated location vigorously and thoroughly without hesitation; she says she loves him, but he is married, and she knows his situation. She is understanding. She is not demanding or in anyway nagging. She is his reprieve; the fresh air that he breathes. She knows that his wife he will not leave, but still to him she cleaves. Oftentimes, she fucks him in his office when everyone else leaves—intensely pleasing him with her mouth on her knees. She is his executive assistant. She is his lover and his other. Business trips and late nights in the office are things regular. There is a palpable sexual tension every time they see each other. In black heels, on his desk, she bends over, and she’ll cum several times before it’s over. On certain holidays, the executive’s wife calls her to come over for dinner. They may even have brandy and eggnog after. She will never give it away, communicating to him through glances and whispers. So many secrets they share. They’ve been together for so many years.
