Dear Gentle Sir,
None of my words here are original or new.
Nothing I say here is a surprise.
Everything I write here is simple:
notes on the scale of wanting you
and your moans as you read me, are my song.
Not-So-Secretly Yours,
Lola xo
songs i like to sing…
Especially when you moan along.
awaken…
perhaps you will…
I just want you to lie still. Naked, in front of me. I want you to let me look at you, really look at you in all your glory. I want you to see my acceptance. I want you to see my delight. I want you to see my desire for the man you are, lying before me. Don’t close your eyes while I tenderly trace your skin. Be prepared for when I look into your eyes so that our souls may lock even as my fingers and hands continue their journey along your various lengths and widths.
You are glorious. Your giving heats my cheeks. Your quiet moans and wild eyes soak me through. You are so fucking beautiful when you are… this. I could spend all day like this with you.
And what textures you are! Touching you like this, like your lover, quickens my breath. Your body’s dance is my song. Soon we will sing and our cries will crescendo and harmonize and in sweaty disarray, I will let you watch me cum and beg you to join me.
I hope you will.
