My Gift of Me

My Gift of Me I love you. I hate the L word. I avoid it at all costs. People recycle it, over and over until the quality is diminished and it?s unrecognisable. I bet the person who invented the word to describe the indescribable, rues the very day that he or she shared that word with the rest of the world. You have to go a very long time without love to really truly know what it is to love and be loved, and it?s not about words, it?s about actions. To show you, with my actions, that what ?we? have is better than what ?they? have.. Whoever ?they? are! I?m giving myself to you. I?m trusting you with my very being, to do with as you wish. It?s the only gesture that I can think of to show you. It?s the only thing that feels right. All you have to do is love me back in equal measure by accepting my gift. My gift of me. On Sundays I iron six shirts for you and hang them up. You work five days, but like to have a spare. You look up at me from the couch and the smile, the one that nobody else gets to see, throws itself at you and you throw one right back at me. It melts my heart each and every time I see it and my legs, they shake a little bit. Monday morning arrives. You start work before me today and I approve of the fact that you insist on decent coffee as the smell of it wafts beneath my nose and you plant my favourite ?purrfectly balanced? cat mug on the bedside table next to me. My eyes are still closed. I imagine that I look good, I probably don?t but you know how good I can look, so it doesn't matter to you today. I mersin escort won?t know how bad I really look until you've left the house, and by the time you return. I?ll have done my best to look exactly as you would dream I looked, if you had the choice. Sometimes if we have the time, you dress me up. You go through my wardrobe and pick out your favourite shoes, dress, and then you put my hair up, put red lipstick on me and stand me in front of the mirror. You rub baby oil on my stockings and manipulate my head using a fistful of my hair, and make me mouth the words ?I?m yours? as you stand behind me and look at my reflection. I hate looking at myself, but I like very much that you like to, so for that reason, and because you own me, I enjoy every moment. ?You?re beautiful!? you tell me as you fix your eyes on mine. My eyes are your favourite thing about me. You think you can?t decide between my eyes and my smile, but you haven?t acknowledged yet, that the reason you like my smile so much, is because my eyes whole heartedly join in. They make it! ?On your knees!? you tell me and I don?t even hesitate. My ears are endlessly pricked for your commands. I live for them. You look down at me. If you wanted me to look pathetic, you should have been more specific. I look brazen. I stare up at you with a defiant glint in my eye which dares you to command me more. Once upon a time, I promised you I was worth a chance, so every chance I get. I endeavour to show you that I wasn't wrong. I?m never wrong. "Who mersin escort bayan do you belong to?" You ask, and I raise my eyebrows. You repeat the question in a sharper but still patient tone and I bite my lip ever so slightly, my head tilted forward, my eyes daring you, but as adoring as ever. "You." I state, as if you needed to ask! "Good girl, then stop looking at me so bloody defiantly and open your mouth!" You say with a wry smile and I feel a rush of juices expel from somewhere inside me, and in my head I hear the words "I love you!" unspoken, but more real than anything I've known before. I open my mouth of course! I gasp in arousal at how I must look to you, how lucky you must feel to have a little fuck doll, so willing, so eager, yet with an edge that makes you sometimes want to slap her pretty little face until she cries. All of a sudden you're overwhelmed with an urge to slap me. You've never slapped my face before, so I don't recognise the expression on your face as you raise your hand and slap my cheek. All at once I'm filled with a mixture of emotions.. At the forefront, the shock! It subsides quickly and I respond by slapping you right back. I never planned it, it was a reaction! You slap me again harder and again I slap you back, a new emotion creeping into the scenario now. You slap me again and I feel like a naughty puppy! The wounded look I wear arouses you like you've never known, and me too, when I imagine it. As quickly as I can, I make the decision to slap you escort mersin again. You're quick this time, and my cheek sports a large red hand-print, yours a small one. If I had time to think about this, I'd probably laugh, or at the very least smile, at how we might look, in the midst of this frenzy, this slapping frenzy that neither of us knows how to conclude. The thrill of it, making us both lose our breathing composure. Our arousal and stubbornness owning us both. Our mutual desire wins the battle in the end, and we cling to each other, our mouths unruly, they seek answers in each other where there are none. Our hands, needing to play their part in this, unite, squeeze. The nerve endings in our fingertips communicate, scream to one another, words only our hearts can comprehend, not our minds. Our tongues try to break themselves in sacrifice, perhaps swap places, they don't know. Nobody does. Your physical need could be insignificant, but it isn't. On your knees now, in front of my face, which no longer looks like mine, contorted by desire. You don't need to command. My mouth opens willingly, no not willingly, desperately. How else can I show you?! I close my eyes as I feel it pass my lips and widen my mouth to accommodate it. "No! Open them!" You tell me, and so I do of course, I look at you as you push it further into my mouth, my hunger only too obvious as I suck and moan. The vibrations born from the moan in my throat, stimulating you, your own moan encouraging me, asking me for more. More is my specialty, so I relax my throat and my hands reach around and grab your arse, pulling you into me, dragging you, no polite invitations here. My throat opening right up like the gates to a prison that has held you captive forever. If I could talk, if I could beg, I would say two things.