What is this, that drives me out on his limb?
At some point, "I love you" didn't do it for me anymore. No matter how I said it: in the heights of passion or in the depth of emotion, It didn't completely translate how I felt. No matter how much I said it: the rattling of a dated declaration didn't do my feelings justice. "Love" was too shallow of a term to define the nature of our connection.
Looking into his eyes, "Cum inside of me," felt right. Holding his pumping hips in my hands, "Cum inside of me," became an opening statement before a sacrifice. I wanted him to know: I am devoted. What's a word to describe my need to put my life into his hands? To use risk as evidence?
building with every stroke,
makes me wish I had a womb to capture this moment.
With my legs drawn over his bouncing shoulders, our rhythms drive me mad. The thirst for his every drop develops into a compulsion. Regardless of what sprouted from his seed, whether a jolt of life or a slow death, "Cum inside of me!" I wanted him to inhabit me.
His face falls open. His muscles clings to my body. Pumping in clinging spurts, we began to bond in a new way. Spraying. Churning. Soaking. Whether to build a new life or to weather the same sickness, I cast my life into the winds of his orgasm.
As his body collapses onto mine, I am filled with the unknown. Questions swell in my head. Possibilities play themselves out. What did I just do? There is so much pending... So much to be determined... What's a word to describe my desire to die, if he's going to?
"Cum inside of me," felt right.