an ode to the elemental nature of sex

Sex is freedom. Sex is really the only great adventure left. It’s what connects all of us together like air; as such, it’s a form of communication, often the highest and lowest form. You can talk during sex, laugh. Yet this physical act can be literally all one needs to say to another person. It’s pounding, and primal and tactile like earth. It involves all the senses. The thrill of their charged presence; of being alone with them, finally alone. The sight of a seductive face and a body that you need and crave so much. The obvious and the nuanced physical, verbal cues. The taste of a lover’s mouth, their skin, their cum. The smell of pussy, the smell of dick, of someone’s ass. A dance as old as time, yet as fresh and new as it ever was. The feel of wet tight pussy; the feel of hard dick. The sweet earthy honeyed smell of lust. The spit, the sweat, the cum, the feel of the wetness of bodily fluids coming and meshing together, rubbing together and mingling. The sound of flesh pounding against flesh. Like nails getting hammered. The low guttural groans and moans. Curses. Filthy talk. Slaps. The wet sound of spit on the most private of parts.  The feel of someone’s body. Getting butt naked with someone and feeling them inside you, around you…feeling them as much as they’re feeling you, if only for the time. Making someone feel good. An expression of love. An expression of desperation (you need this like you need air to breathe). Or just having fun. Fingers in here, fingers around there. The rubbing and the friction; the desire and the spasm. Hands here, hands there…everywhere. The excitement of taking someone over, of getting them to trust you in the most intimate way. The sensation of being taken over. The power of seduction, the magic. Falling into someone. The freedom of exposition and the vulnerability of bodily surrender. The heavy breathing and panting. The sweat. The bending of limbs, and of minds. Work. It’s hot and passionate like fire. It’s romantic and emotionally deep like water. This is what reminds us that we’re men. That we’re women. That we’re human. I intend to explore it as fully as possible.

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