We aren’t really in the habit of exchanging racy photos. I sent this one to him earlier this week on a whim. I got back a smiley emoji with heart eyes. He’s not very effusive, the emoji was enough for me to know he liked it.
Where someone else might say “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he looks into my eyes, then forces his cock down my throat.
Where someone else might say “You are so beautiful,” he gathers me up and strokes my back with his fingers until we both fall asleep.
Where someone else might say “Your tits look amazing in that dress!” He growls as he peels down the fabric and sucks my nipple into his mouth.
I take these compliments as they were meant
However, words matter. All the more so when they are rare and carefully chosen. So this morning, as I stumbled sweaty and still jelly-legged to the shower, I was startled when he snuck up behind me. Twinning his arms around my waist he breathed in my ear, “You know you make me so fucking hard all the time. I can’t explain it.”
I smiled and leaned back to kiss him. “Good,” I replied.
I haven’t stopped smiling since.
It’s Sinful Sunday. Click the kiss.