Touch me

What's wrong with human contact?Sometimes I just want to be held, sometimes I just want to fuck, sometimes I just want my skin to rub gently against the heat of another who is anxious to run their eyes across my belly and sniff the anticipation related to last nights wanting and the pleasure consult of an orgasm. I'm not asking for much, just your time for the next few hours to pleasure my ego and stroke my soul while talking that dirty shit I like so much without feeling I'm emasculating you or stripping the inches you once boasted over your man drink(apple martini, no judging here). Is it too much to ask for you to throw me about devouring my breathe in a heave of rage gripping onto the next movement with your hips biting your lip in a deep trance trying not to let the explosion happen before I tell you it's okay; yeah it's selfish. Spank the thought of resisting, jerk the possibility, if you must, make someone else first in action and yourself in thought whilst nothing matter more than the warmth between the lines of carnal communication drawing lines wherever they may lie obstructing nothing of the sort that may hinder the very possibilities of my being and your doing. Just touch me where I can't see and feel me where no one watches too closely and I am bound to breathe a little deeper into lust.