just fuck me
don’t be afraid to hurt me.
i know you worry. please don’t. i’m not as fragile as you think.
don’t tug my hair. grab it. force me to my knees with your hands in my hair wrapped in a fist. pull hard. make my eyes water.
don’t graze your teeth along my skin. devour me. bite down until i cry out. then do it again.
don’t caress my throat. i want to feel your fingers wrap tightly around it. feel my pulse hammer into your palm. feel the breath short in my chest and that little bit of panic set in.
don’t nudge my knees apart. move them like they’re yours to spread. with intention. with possession.
don’t hold my hands. i want to feel your strong grip around my wrists. use all your weight. make me lie still.
i want it to still hurt tomorrow. i want to see the bruises. the welts. the handprints.
don’t ask me if i’m okay.
i need to let go and not think.
i need you to make me yours.
let my body answer for me with each shudder and moan. with the pool of wetness between my thighs.
these are the things i can’t control. i don’t want to control. that’s the point.
just fuck me.
come on let me hold you, touch you, feel you
kiss you, taste you all night
three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed. she tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to. she opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three. now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap. inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.
you say: i dated her a while back.
you don’t say: sometimes, when i’m holding you, i imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.
you say: she was younger than me.
you don’t say: the sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.
you say: it’s nothing now.
you don’t say: but it was everything then.
(Source: poppyflowerpoetry, via cassius89)