I still want to feel you. To know the softest and roughest stretches of your skin–explore the cold, and warmth, your peaks and valleys. I want to taste your ecstasy, bath in it, paint with it on my skin in little circles. With eyes wide and hungry I will beg you for sustenance. I want to make you moan so forcefully you knit your brow, flex your hips, and contract your diaphragm. I want your voice in my ear with your breath on my skin. My hands will describe the shape of shoulders and ass, firmly bringing you deeper into me until we fill the air with tumultuous vibrations. Then we'll collapse into each other. I want you to fold yourself into me and sleep, satisfied, against my chest.