Between My Thighs And Your Name

Sometimes, I wonder if you know what you do to me. The way you look at me alone is enough to make my body remember things I’ve never even done. You don’t need to touch me, baby. Your eyes are already holding me in ways your hands haven't. When you stare at me like that, it’s like you’re peeling me slowly with just your gaze. And I feel it… all over. You see, it’s not even about the bed yet. It starts from those small, ordinary things. When you walk into the room and your perfume fills the air, thick like heat after rain. When you pass by and your arm brushes mine, even if it’s by mistake, my body tingles like you sparked a wire under my skin. You sit beside me and our thighs touch, and I act like I didn’t notice. But my mind is already running. I’m wondering what your hands would feel like, pressed flat against my stomach, sliding under my shirt, gripping my waist like you want to hold all of me in your palm. And my body answers to that thought like prayer. I cross my legs. I bite my lip. I pretend like I’m normal, but baby, there’s a storm moving through me. The way you talk, low, deep, calm like the voice of a man that knows exactly what he wants, drives me mad. You say my name, and I swear, it sounds different in your mouth. Like it belongs there. Like your tongue already knows how to pronounce every part of me, not just in words, but in moans too. I imagine what would happen if you finally pull me close. No talking. Just your mouth finding mine, soft at first, like you’re tasting something forbidden. Then deeper, like you’re hungry. Like you’ve waited all your life to devour me. Your hands on my hips, dragging me into you, letting me feel how hard I’ve made you. And I won’t lie, I want to feel all of you. Pressed tight against me. Warm, thick, real. I want you to take your time, the way a real man does when he’s sure of himself. When he’s not rushing, but still desperate. When he touches every part like he’s memorizing it. You kiss my neck, then my chest, slowly tracing your tongue along every line of me. And by the time your hands move between my thighs, I’m already soaking. You won’t even need to ask. My body will tell you, loud and clear. And when you finally slide into me, I want you to hold my face and look me in the eye. I want to feel you deep, slow, and steady. I want to hear you whisper my name like it’s the only thing that makes sense. No distractions. No lies. Just sweat, breath, and truth. Because this isn’t just about sex. It’s about the way you make me feel. The way my body comes alive around you. The way you make me want to lose all my home training and be loud for you, be raw for you, be yours. And after we’re done, don’t even get up. Just lie there. Let me curl into your chest. Let your hand play lazily on my back, while my body still remembers the rhythm of you inside me. We won’t need to say much. Just the sound of your heartbeat and my breathing slowing down will be enough. That’s what I want. That’s what you do to me.

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