For my Butterfly…
His good girl.
Good morning. Happy Sunday! This would have been lovely this morning.
That first touch, such a simple thing,
hands reaching, fingers meeting in a soft caress as they intertwine.
But our souls, they combine as one,
a joining of body, mind, and spirit.
Nose to nose…
Washing her hair…
show her how much you crave her. not with words, because in all honesty, any idiot can round up a pretty set of words. but show her, with every piece of your body, that you belong to her and make sure she knows she belongs to you.
i want her to see and feel how much i want her there. i want my hands to grab hold of her as if every touch is burned into her skin, marking her with my signs. those subtle little touches, especially the one on her lower back. never just put your hand there, make sure that when you put your hand there, she knows it’s because you just couldn’t be away from here any more and you needed to touch her.
read that word again. needed.
i see so many guys just place their hands on their girls just because they are supposed to. they hold her because they think that’s what she wants. no. hold her hand because you need it, hold it because every single moment spent not touching her, not making her feel like the most craved object in the world and in your eyes is a moment gone to waste.
touch her. grab her. taste her. remember her ways, the way she moves around you, on you and how she moves when you’re inside her. learn it. read her. make sure that she can trust on you in every move she makes, make sure she knows you’ll be there.
and when you are together, let her know that she owns you. she owns the nibbling in your ear, the tongue twisting itself down your chest and her hands under the table on that growing bulge in your pants. it’s all yours. make sure she knows that.
and make sure that the only distance between you and her is made out of necessity, and even then, you’ll put up a fight.
please remember this?
The fact that I’ve never felt this makes me cry.
We should start a club.