Howling to My Future Lover
Howl

Howling to My Future Lover

Can you hear me calling for you?

Photo by Veerendra from Pexels

I am so hungry. My mind is swirling with fantasies at this time of the month. I want all of it. Selfishly. Indulgently.

I want you to cook for me. Make me dinner — something that doesn’t come out of a box. Something I would truly love to eat. Something that would make my lips wet with its juices and maybe something just a little bit sloppy, causing bites to fall off my fork and back onto my plate, making us both laugh.

I want you to sit next to me in my living room and talk to me in a quiet voice, telling me about your day and listening to mine. I want you to put your hand on my knee while we talk, just for a moment, just every now and again, to remind me of the magnetism of our bodies, always pulling together.

Eventually, your hand won’t pull away. You’ll tug at my arm, moving me into position on the floor, between your knees. No…not for that. I’ll be facing away from you and you’ll smooth my hair over one shoulder and dig your fingers into them.

I want you to keep talking to me while you do this, running your fingers up into my neck, to the bottom of my skull and our voices will lower even further until your fingers tire and you simply wind them through my hair, again and again. And then my voice will fade as I surrender to this feeling, my whole body melting.

And then you lean forward, bend my head to the side and press your lips against my neck, winding my hair tightly around your fingers.
['Yael Wolfe']
['Relationships', 'Love', 'Sex', 'Sexuality', 'Howl By Yael Wolfe']