What I Want Is

Written by Chipo Kay

With sex, I seek more than just an orgasm. I want more; more than the body explosions, more than the buzz and the vibrations that bring pleasure to life. I do not want to be that woman who cannot enjoy herself and her body while her partner takes it upon themselves to feast on hers. I want to receive pleasure just as much as I give it to others. 

Do you know what eye contact does to me? This is where all the intimacy begins. It gets me hooked. It takes me into my partner’s eyes and makes me see exactly what I want to feel. I want that weakness that I feel when I look deep into their eyes. To feel helpless as the chemistry sparks deeper and I see the colors of their soul reflect in their eyes. Eyes that are burning with lustful passion. I want to be drunk in the lust that will fill my body the minute I look right in my partner’s eyes. I want my soul to catch the fiery lust that blazes in my partner’s eyes.

I want that physical connection. I want to be touched and to touch intimately. I want to be touched in all the places that turn my buttons on. I want my partner to know that they have complete and exclusive access to every inch of my body, and have all the freedom to explore anything that delivers nothing but pleasure. In turn, I want to touch them and feel their silky skin as I get turned on. I want my imagination to run wild along with my fingers as I trace the smoothness of their skin. I want to be squeezed until I squirm with pleasure. All the soft body parts on me were meant to be squeezed. They are not just there for aesthetics. They are for my partner to explore, and they are for me to enjoy.

I want that emotional connection. I want that connection that touches all my emotions; my soul and entire being moving in all directions, grooving to the rhythm of my partner’s body. Breathing in sync, as I close my eyes and imagine how our babies will look in sixth grade. That kind of imagination does not just happen. There has to be something going on the right way. It is my brain telling me “we are here to stay for this good feeling. The chemistry that gets me high on love. The kind that keeps me coming back, again and again for each stroke. It is always as if the eyes would talk back at me. Pull me closer and say we are in this together. 

My partner has to know where to lick and how to do it. Not the sloppy flicks – huge turn off. Be sensitive, the ears are where all the pleasure magnets reside. One flick and half of a breath and I am hooked; gone. The warmth of my partner’s breathing filling my neck, ears and gushing down my spine straight to the deepest darkest places inside my body. Their soft breath touching my skin gives that silky feel as the hairs of my body rise and tie pleasant knots just above the goosebumps, as I let out a little “uh” taking in every feeling that comes with each touch. 

I want to hear that talk. Not too dirty and not too clean either. The words that affirm my actions and my efforts. The words that will keep me turned on. My partner has to say the words that will assure me that we are in this act together, as I will be able to say everything back. Everything to encourage them and let them know they are doing a great job. I want to hear the whispers, not too clear, but we both understand what they mean. 

I want my body to be bent and folded in so many ways that even a gymnast cannot and will not find a chance.  My body arched and my toes curled. I want to be rolled into a ball; curled up until I cannot tell where my hand is from the head. The cramps, sex was never meant to be flawless. It has to be messy enough and unique. We make our own rules and we break them how we like. 

I want to let them in and be sure they indulge in my love. It is love making after all. Be sure that I enjoy them just as much as they do me as I flex my whole body reaching out for theirs. My pelvis would move deeply and rhythmically as we both allow ourselves to explore our bodies deeply and lustfully. The strong strokes that will leave me speaking gibberish. Like the aliens have invaded my body. Strong enough that I could tell my partner I want them forever. I want to lose control of my body. I want to be lost in the moment. I want to feel lost and out of the world. The world appears as if it has stopped moving, to allow elevated pleasures without the risk of crashing as the earth moves around its orbit. Everything around us has to stop, revealing the two bodies that have found each other.   

I want to moan and have my partner muffle it down with kisses. Deep spontaneous kisses that will suck the air out of my breath. I want my throat to open as I breathe slower and slower until my pelvic floor muscles are relaxed. I want to get away into the biggest mind blowing orgasm. I want to choke on their name as I get confused by the pleasures that be, that are delivered to me. And when it all reaches that point of no return, I want to scream. I want to scream so loud not knowing that I am screaming. Let my lungs release all the air sending a million pulses through my veins, shooting tiny, pearly bullets of sweat glowing all over my skin.

Cuddles. Cuddles are just that. Top tier intimacy. They help me cool down after a steamy round. Cuddles are an assurance of a good job well done. As we lay there, letting our bodies cool, nobody says anything at that moment. I want to allow my partner to take everything in, as I do the same. Recuperating and finding our breaths again. We lay bare, exposed and unguarded. Nothing else matters at that moment. And I mean nothing can top that either. 

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