I mentioned the other day that love is not as easy as sex–I would like to amend this statement. Love is easy, I fall in love all the time, daily even.

Because love can come easily, and while it may not be that love some think of, that… I want to marry you, have your children, buy a house, get a dog, wash your underwear kind of love. It still is love and it is the kind of love that makes the sex, the fucking– all the sweeter.

It is simple, while being complicated at the same time. It can happen quickly without notice–in fact it usually does. But it can also be temporary, momentary, fleeting. Transitory love.

Last year I fell in love twice, maybe three times, and the sex was memorable. The men are gone. We get to this point in life where obligation comes in many forms, men can’t stay, and I cannot have them stay, but I loved them while I had them, even if it was only two days, two nights, two months. Because I loved them it made the sexual– more powerful– than the ones I had/have on a regular basis, but did/do not love.

When we fucked we fucked, his cock stabbed me and I felt it with every part of me. Electric mind threads and strands of bodily fluid connect and we made love. You bent me over, my palms to the floor, body in half, open. You plowed me, grabbing on with each thrust,  stopping abruptly because the heat of my pussy, the center of my core was pulling everything out of you. Everything. Your cock dripping with lust.

Your eyes lost.

I fell in love with your eyes first. Can you fall in love with someones pain reflected in their face?  Because I think I did. The short time together was full of passion, poetry and lusty nights of rain and the smell of cock to cunt. Sometimes we connect in solace to people. Life brings many things to us, including a whole lot of pain. Like the songs say– you can’t sun without the rain, and your can’t have the laughter without the tears. Life is struggle and these pains and joys are what make up our beings–it’s what makes people fall in love with us, even for just one night. I saw it in his eyes before I tasted it on his cock.

But… when I tasted it on his cock, all inhibition melted away and spilled into some form of love. We find love, comfort, two drunken stones warmed themselves side by side –until those transitory waves takes one or the other away. Until then the nights were full of your hard stone. I loved the way you fucked me. The way my pussy surrounds you, when I pull up and squeeze you inside of me, then slide back and down your solidity, leaving your trunk coated in a varnish of my love. The way your eyes become slits as your hard beam slides between my lips. And I loved the way you taste, salty lustiness drives down my throat in attempts to lock out the daylight. I open wide to drink you in and for the moment my search is ceased, I found love and am I fucking your like I love to fuck you, like I fuck to love you. My mouth loving your cock. My eyes do the talking, because I have nothing left to say.

Sexuality charged becomes pumping and fast. Love. We spin, pant, buck and moan. I gasp in pain with each permeating stab that I love. You fill me with your come, draining your swell inside of me like only someone I love would. Spent– we collapse, want quelled,  liquid spills and your cock is glossed with me. My other me runs her fingers through your hair. Softly I fall in love.