Organic Love (Continued)

A grin that makes me want to sit on it. He has one for when he’s making people laugh at something twisted, one for when he’s in the mood, the proud daddy smile that makes me want to hug him, the touched by love smile, the “she likes me” grin. He’s like a Leonard Hofstadter in being shy and making me make the first move. I don’t have that kind of confidence. I’m still the girl, at least I like being that, in making the first move. I like wearing the skirt in that.

If he made the first move, he’d have me like putty in his hands. He’d desire me enough to. I don’t know what he’d want to do, but I’ll say that he could do most of it without complaint or stopping him. How it senses when he’s horny off his hands is enough to turn me on. The grin on his face as he goes toward me, already knowing I want him too, is enough to turn me on. I want to cover him with my kisses, cover him with sucking on little sections of him all over. I want to bite him in every spot he wants bitten.

I want to give him a slow massage first, then do a slower body worship, going from kisses to sucking to biting. I want to cover every inch of his vanilla-caramel skin with my praise of him by doing that. I’d go from gentle to rough, kissing to biting and scratching, slow to make him wait and tease him.

I want the waves of my desire to touch him in his spine so he shivers. I love watching him shiver because of that. I love watching him react, in my mind only, to all I’d do to him. How he’d feel, what noises he’d make, the looks on his face. I want to put him in ecstasy with all I’d do to him.

He makes my lower mouth hungry. He makes me want things with him I don’t want with others. He makes me want to get filled with him any way I can. I want to see that pleading look in his eyes just as he’s about to come. I want to know and feel his pleasure so instinctively, so viscerally that I can’t deny it to myself. I could never convince myself again that he doesn’t want me.

I want those cerulean blue eyes to fill with longing and passion for me and I want him never to feel like he has to hold back. I’m sick of all that’s ever held us back from each other. I want that man to know, from all that I ever do to and for him, that he’s so organically loved.

I want him to shine in his life, and I want to watch him shine in it too. I want to celebrate him in that too.

I miss out on his hugs every day. I miss out on that organic love I’ll never get to feel from him. I’ll never get to make that sweet, passionate love to him. I crave it and miss it in missing him. I can only wish him the very best in his life, whatever that means to him.

The very sardonic irony in his grin, in his smile, will always make me want him. My whole being wants him, but more than that I want his happiness. This love, all love, is not selfish. It is giving. No matter how the years have passed since that day that he said “no” to me, I will always feel the same. I can try to distract myself, try to deny it, but I’ll end up worse off than if I admit it to myself and accept it.