@mizzlovelippz

Let me write my thoughts quickly while I sit and wait for him.  I want to capture this moment…

It always starts the same way.  A random text message:

“Baby girl?”

“Yes baby”.

“My dick misses you”.

“I know.  So?”

“So let’s go”.

He has no idea.  He’ll never know.  ‘Cause I’ll never tell him.

My heart still pounds in anticipation.  And it’s that roller-coaster feeling all over again.

He’ll lift me off this chair and he’ll pull me towards him.  He’ll give me a full-bodied hug.  You know the kind.  His hands will grab my head, he’ll kiss me deep and his hands will wander down to my behind. Then he’ll smack me.  Like he usually does.

There’s no small talk between us.  Never any uncomfortable silences.  I begin his thoughts and he completes my sentences.

He’ll stare into my eyes as he speaks.  He always does.  And he’ll tell me, “Baby girl, your eyes are so bright” and I’ll reply with, “It’s because of you”.  And he gets me.  He understands.  He always does.

He’ll kiss my forehead.  Before.  And after.

He’ll notice my hair.  And he’ll comment on it.  He’ll ask me why I’m wearing a dress or why I’m still clothed.  And then he will proceed to undress me.  Like he always does.

Yes.  It’s Sunday afternoon.  And while the Patriots kick the Chargers ass today, there will be love.

He could be anywhere he wants to but he’s choosing to be here.  With me.

He didn’t lift me off the chair.  He hugged me tight instead.

He kissed my eyes, my forehead, my fingertips and the palm of my hand.  After.

The Patriots won.  So I heard.  But he didn’t even notice.

He noticed my hair though.  “You know I love your curls”, he said, eyeing me.  “But you’re always pretty”.  I smiled.

Goodbyes are always bittersweet.  Bitter because we’re parting.  And sweet because…..well, because we just were.

He watched me walk away, paying close attention to the man who turned to look at me.  It warmed my heart.

He warms my heart.

He has no idea.  He’ll never know.  ‘Cause I’ll never tell him.