PERSONAL: CROWN HER DAY WITH KISS

You wish you could express her divine perfection, her luring warmth and smooth circumferential allure, her gravitating depth, dark blissful present of breathtaking tightness and revealing magnificence. You wish she could feel your pulling and growling, rampaging wanting, raging seeking, hunger-driven howling, panting and stomping, impatient approaching of fiery thirsty longings. And all it takes is a hint of disclosure, a glimpse of skin, a small define smooth thigh of heaven, and your heart stops, your soul throbs, your mind is on fire full of desire and gratitude that you are a man and she is your suave pleasing marvel of a woman.


You know her. Out of the blue, she can be a mess. A wrong word, a misunderstanding, a bad phone call, a friend who has gone astray, a favorite piece got lost, and she is down, desperate, hopeless, and sad. The world is against her, and she is feeling it every day, your beautiful darling, because for her little things matter, details are important and perfection is found in the tiny not in the seemingly big. But what she doesn’t know is you adore her, you love her, in good and bad times, even in moments you do not grasp, in particular in those, because she is life, she is wonderful, unpredictable, beautiful, and she allows you to cheer her up with a tender kiss on her neck, a steady touch on her back, and a warm enclosing embrace, so you breathe together, to give her rhythm, security, love and protection, and so she is not just wanted but needed by you, too, and this is the greatest gift she can give.


You owe it to yourself. You think about her day and night, you sense her presence, you feel her sensuality, you scent her skin and fragrance, you are aware of her heartbeat, deeply entwined longings, drawing depth, pulling heat, engulfing darkness. So prove your worth and drive her to heavens, take her breath, evaporate her thoughts, conquer her mind with carnal eruptions, imploding desires, raging obsession of feeding addictions. Push her harder, take her longer, be more primal, tougher and love her thorougher. Break through her wantonness into the heart of her cravings and incite a burning stronger than reason, past and future, into a now of unforgettable yearnings, fulfilled dreams of lasting devastating corrupting satisfaction, until she looks at you with unconditional grateful devotion, half asleep, half awake as happy as never.


She cannot love herself as much as you do. And she cannot grasp how beautiful she is without you. She has no knowledge about her strength, she cannot hear her own voice without distortion, feel her smile as unclouded as you see, feel, sense her emotions unabridged rising in her eyes as you can. She is perfect but not for herself. She thinks she is weak because she doesn’t see her strengths, she is confused due to her openness, her empathy, and polite modesty, and all you can do, if she is rambling, sad, beside herself, is be there, be strong, and stop in the right moment along the train of her thoughts her search for clarity and kiss with determination reality back into her life that she is beautiful and no one has the power to change this very fact.

Never give up on your darling. When she runs, run with her. When she screams, take her hands. When she cries, cry with her. And when she flees, flee with her and force the world to follow. Her fear is hope. Her weakness is love. Her dreams are simple, she wants a true heart beating with hers, lips on her lips, arms around her back, a warm chest to rely on, not words. not presents, no gifts, and promises. So kiss when words don’t help and catch her when she falls, run with her when she is forced to run, and when she is exhausted, out of breath, when she sinks to her knees in desperation be the one who helps her to stand up again, be the one who cherishes her needs and she will grant you all you will ever want.

Why are you hard to her when you love her so much? Why do you have sometimes to put your feelings aside and force her to prove herself? Why is patience, steadiness, calmness important? Why regularity, predictability, patterns a must? It is a circle of trust, a structure of faith, a safety net to fall back to. It is not her wanting, her doubting, her rambling you work against. It is her fear to love too deeply, her need to belong which forcefully conquers her heart. It is her selflessness which grows stronger, her defenselessness against your touch, your presence and slow and confident caress which robs her all senses but gives her faith and safety, the certainty to be seen. She is afraid of the intensity. of this connection and that is why she is hiding, eluding, avoiding. She thinks you cannot be true and has reasons in her past to do so. So be strict when she shuns your attempts, bring light when she hides in the dark, and lure her with love and undivided attention back into your arms.  

This is what you should do! Put her on a pedestal, crown her day with a kiss, cherish her sweetness and dive into her smoothness. Let her shiver and lose her mind, caress her into blissful insanity, carnal oblivion, merciless convulsion of electrical exhilaration. Be demanding. Drink, eat, devour her inexhaustible beauty, delightful depths, primal sensations, throbbing wants, giving needs, breathtaking longings in your hard manly embrace, ruthless thirst and insatiable hunger for her salacious feminine perfection. Wolf down on your woman and she will scream ‘yes’ for the rest of the night.

she is something. i don’t know what kind of something, but she is something magnetic. something electrifying. something you search for in everyone and find in no one until your eyes lock with hers, until your palms skim her hands, until your fingertips feel their way across every inch of her skin, until your grip becomes tight and she doesn’t flinch away. she is something. something wonderful, magnificent, alluring. a siren’s song, a sultry lullaby that played in the way she walked and you become a sailor in the open seas ready to crash into her. her eyes the color of the water, her voice the sound of long forgotten songs of past generations. she is something. something unreachable. your fingertips are always just tracing the surface, drawn into the feeling of her aura, but always kept at a slight distance. she is something. something unraveling.

she is something