If you rush I stay in my head fixing my face. Give me a minute to get stupid. That is when it gets good both.
Tag: bedroom
No speech about my past. No scoreboard on the night. Just appetite and a bit of manners. Rare. I remember them far too bloody long.
Do not bury your face treating it like a task. I want the look. I want you to clock it. That bit stays with me.
I can feel when you are half in the room. Hands on me, eyes on a screen, I go cold. Be here. Notifications can wait.
I want the warm-up first. Then I want you to mean it. Soft the whole way through feels like you are frightened of me really.
There is a difference and you can feel it immediately. Hold me there. Do not treat my head like some handle from cheap porn films.
He talked numbers like it was sport. I wanted tea and a hand on my back. Performance reviews do not belong in my bed. Ever.
I like being asked. I like it more when you pay attention after. Consent is not paperwork. It is you noticing I am still here.
Do not just grunt and hope for the best. Tell me it is good. Tell me where. Quiet men make me bored and over perform.
If it is all serious I tense up fast. Filthy and funny is the mix. I come easier when I am not bloody posing about.