Thank her
You open your body up to her, like always.
It’s been a long time, she says. It’s not healthy for us to be apart this long. She doesn’t need you to apologize, she knows about your struggles. All you have to do is
Thank her.
Her touch is strong, familiar, it almost burns against your skin. Part of you wants to slow down, but you like this, you need this. You shouldn’t restrict yourself.
Thank her.
The more time that passes, the more you know that you aren’t in control, she is. And you like it that way.
Thank her.
She steals your breath just a little, but you don’t care, you don’t need it. Not with her.
Thank her.
She’s always there for you, she makes you feel special, makes you feel whole, makes you feel alive.
Thank her.
You both know when you’ve had your fill. Her touch recedes without a word, and all she asks is that you see her again, whenever you’re ready. You know what you have to do.
“Thank you.”