Lovers Spit

Let me tell you about my boyfriend. He is one amazing guy. He is an inch taller than I am. He has the best sense of humor, ever. He has beautiful blue green eyes that sparkle when he smiles and when he looks into mine, well, I feel much like he can see into my heart and read the secret things written there. He can cook and loves all of the same foods that I do. His soft curly hair just begs for me to run my fingers through it. His hair also smells so wonderful, naturally. His musk is subtle and heady at the same time. I could breathe him in for days.

He's kind and considerate and empathetic. He has great taste in music. He is a far superior kisser than anyone else I've had the pleasure of kissing, but that can be said of more than his abilities as a kisser. I love the way his beard feels in my soft hands. He has lots of friends and introduces me to everyone. He is smart and is even more book obsessed than I am. He reads to me, his lovely baritone voice forming the words and forming a smile on my lips. We share the same eyeglasses prescription and blood type, too. He is ridiculously sweet to me. Our hands fit perfectly together. He has one snaggle-tooth that adds gads of character to his smile. I want to lick it when I kiss him. I did once with his permission.

I can't get enough. He makes me weak in the knees, he puts my head in the clouds, he makes my heart sing, he makes my panties wet (when I'm wearing them) and he makes me deliriously happy. He fucking rocks and I love him very much. More than I can articulate. More than I thought was possible anymore.