When You Touch Me, It’s so Powerful, I Can Feel It

I never know what I want. Because I always want more than one thing.

On one hand, I want you to be so cruel to me. I want you to slap me–my mouth, my tits, my ass, my thighs. I want to feel my jaw between your thumb and forefinger. I want you to make me look at you through the tears as you pinch my nipples, as your fingers dig into my skin. I want to feel your teeth break my flesh. I want your hand around my throat. I want my hair in your fist. I want you to wrest me to the ground. Knock the wind out of me. I want you to fuck me so hard, my body, inside and out, is covered in bruises. And while you do this, I want you to whisper into my ear all manner of dirty and awful things. I want your fingerprints emblazoned on me like a crime scene. Hurt. Me.

And on the other hand? I am emotionally weak. And so sensitive lately. There are words that bubble up from my toes that I want to speak and cannot. I want to whisper, tearfully, for you to be kind to me. Be sweet to me. Take me into your arms and coddle me. Brush my hair with your finger tips. Kiss my lips until they’re swollen and aching. Suckle at my skin gently. Snuggle me till I can barely breathe. Cover me in your body. Nibble my tattoos. Bathe me in the scent of you. Tell me… sweet… endearing words. Treat me like the baby that I am. Hold my arms above my head and love me with your words until I am crying from my eyes and from between my thighs. Take your time with me. Fuck me deeply, slowly, gently. Touch every inch of me. Break me with your kindness. I am fragile… handle me with care.

The only thing that I know for sure… is that I want you, in any way that I can have you.

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