Sexual Attraction: Wow I Wanna Fuck That

sexual attraction: wow I wanna fuck that

romantic attraction: wow I wanna date that

sensual attraction: wow I wanna cuddle that

aesthetic attraction: wow that exists

Platonic attraction: wow I wanna talk with that

J'ai un amour

I have a lover who exists wholly in my dreams. They are always constant and never inconsistent. I spend most of my time asleep these days.

Re: my last post. What some "lovers" have said to me.

He guided her back to the vanity and took a tissue to her mussed face, his movements deliberate and gentle. She wasn't surprised; some part of her expected it, knew from how he spun her out and drew her back on the dance floor that there could be an undercurrent of tenderness. She took his hand in hers, turning the palm up, and placed it to her lips, kissing his skin.

He smiled faintly, tossing the tissue away, stroking her hair with his free hand. "An apology? Unusual. I accept."

"It wasn't..." she started to protest, before casting her eyes upwards, glancing into his. She was thunderstruck.

"You're a demon." She whispered.

"Nothing so common." He scoffed, waving a hand, before taking her elbow. "Come, my brat."

"Yes." She said, mouth dry. He’d never used a single power on her.

He led her through the kitchens. She was rich; she exited this way constantly. Her limo was parked out back, anyhow.

The driver raised a single brow, which lowered under His gaze. She just shrugged. "Take us home." The driver seemed about to argue, when she gave him a look, "Home, Rhys. It's not a debate." He stiffened and opened the door for the couple, shutting it politely once they were within, and pulling away from the curb moments later.

In the back, he pulled her to his side. She resisted for a fraction of a second and he shot her a warning look. Interpreting it immediately, she nestled against him, shivering. He could sense her blood pounding through her veins, roaring in her ears.

"Are you frightened, brat?" He leaned down and breathed against her ear, before allowing his tongue to trace the outline.

She whimpered softly, hands clasping the hand of the arm he had around her shoulders, before she found her rebellion, and whispered, "I have a name."

"Eulalia Chara Kazantzakis. Yes. Heir to the fortune. The only remaining heir. Your brother lost his life in a duel, your parents in a car crash. You're alone in the world. You go by Lollie. I'm going to call you Brat...in private. But among others, Eulalia. Your name is beautiful."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "Yes."

He nuzzled against her hair, lips pressed to her ear, murmuring, "Or shall I call you Eulalia in private, when you've behaved?"

Gooseflesh erupted over her skin, and she nodded, trembling.

"Yes." He breathed. "You'd like me to acknowledge you more as just my brat. More than just..." He paused, and smiled, growling the word, "Mine."

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, pressing her knees together. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Her fingernails bit into his flesh, she was holding his hand so tightly.

"When was the last time you ever felt this exhilarated, Eulalia?" He asked softly, shaking her hands from his, then drawing his hand in, to her throat, stroking the flesh there. Her hands descended to her knees, clenched into fists.

"Well?" He queried. Her response was a full body shudder, and he deliberately, slowly, grasped her windpipe. "That's not an answer, brat." He drew her chin back, tipping her head so he could look down into her eyes.

"When?"

She shook her head, eyes opening, clear, feckless. "Never."

I loved her in the way that only comes with youth: irresponsibly, naïvely, selfishly, wholly and joyously, and I didn't even realise it was love.

I called her my friend, my very best friend. I told her if I were a man I'd take her away from everything that troubled her. I wanted to protect her and keep her safe.

In my ignorance, I hurt her, drove her away, because she already had the language to know how she felt, but surely if I were queer, someone would have told me.

It was the loneliest closet, for I didn't know I was in it, alone.

Dis moi...

Things I want to hear from my lover: 1. "I want you. Now." 2. "I can't stop thinking about..." That sexy thing I did, or something about my body, or... 3. "I fantasize about you." Bonus points if they tell me the fantasy. 4. "Next time I see you, I'm going to pin you down and fuck you so hard." 5. "I want to hear you moan my name." 6. "I need you." 7. "Please." Bonus points if it's whispered. 8. "I crave you." (Variations on a theme.) 9. "You make me so fucking hard." 10. "I masturbate to thoughts of you." 11. "I love how you feel under my hands." 12. "Good girl." 13. "I'm going to shred that shirt off of your body." 14. "Come. Here." 15. "I'm gonna make you cum." 16. "I want to do this forever." 17. "Goddamn." 18. "I love this." 19. "I love you." 20. (While growling, or whispering.) "Mine."