“Get up against that wall.”
We’re just starting to get busy in the bedroom. Today, I want it hard and I want it deep, and the best way I can figure to get it right this hot and heavy second is to bend over, back you against that wall, situate and grind.
That’s me, the girl next door. America’s sweetheart. Your mom’s favorite of all your girlfriends.
That’s me, your future wife.
Let me be clear. I’m a very sexual person, but I keep this fact to myself. Well, I keep it between us. The magazines and TV shows are wrong. I have never once sat around with girlfriends and compared blow jobs and penis sizes and what I like between my legs. I don’t share my desires and fantasies, my almost constant hunger and longing for your body. It’s private, but oh man is it real.
To look at me, you might not see it. I’m lean and fit and I’ve got an hourglass figure with a DD chest. I dress to flatter, not flaunt. I wear a pony tail. I’m Mary Ann from “Gilligan’s Island.”
In the bedroom, though, I blossom. Because of you. So dear future husband, Here’s what you’re doing right. I hope you’ll never change.
When I walked in the door tonight, your eyes lit up and a smile spread across your face. Then there it was: That almost imperceptible, slow shake of the head. It means “Girl, you’re so damn pretty and I can’t believe you’re heading towards me.” You’re damn hot yourself, my lover, but it blows your mind that I’m your girlfriend. I feel confident.
We have a drink. We tell stories about our day. The conversation flows. You listen. You share. You ask questions. You don’t tell me I shouldn’t worry about this or be mad about that. You try to understand. You don’t try to solve, you try to feel. I feel connected.
You touched my cheek when we kissed. (Swoon.) We walk into the bedroom holding hands. Then you slowly turn me. But perfection comes when you put your hands there. Not there there. But there, the part of my body that I’m most confident about. You know what it is. And you love it too. You caress it, rest your hands there. You appreciate what I appreciate. I feel sexy.
Here’s where things are gonna work or they’re not. We either move to the same rhythm or we don’t. I touch you, you touch me. You kiss softly, I respond, breathing my kisses back. It’s getting harder and harder to keep the heat down and you answer with a deeper mouth. I feel soulful.
Now I want. I hunger. Nothing will be enough. I want you to kiss me forever, and I want everything else too. I want to give. And I want to take. I want to explode and I want to wait. I want to feel you everywhere, then I want to watch you at your best. It’s messy and hot and there are tongues and hands and fingers and it’s wet and slick and things are hard and soft in all the right places. Our lips touch. There’s no need to kiss. They whisper past each other on their way to other places. Cheeks rest on cheeks. Our hands scream and strain.
The best part of all this? You are loving your future wife. And it’s hot because I feel safe enough to feel everything.