getting ready 🌹

I can’t remember if I’ve worn this set for her already. It doesn’t matter I guess, Max will be happy to take it off of me either way. She’ll lean back and look me up and down and say “This body...” like she’s speechless and I’ll glow a little.

She’s easy to please. But that’s not a criticism. It’s nice to have a warm reception and know you’re pushing all the right buttons. It feels good. Sturdy. What a relief to feel like “enough”.

I haven’t seen her in two whole weeks. Not on purpose, I was in NY, she was on night shift, I had my tattoo and my Lizzo concert and a rotten cold. It’s been too busy. It’s made me eager.

I want to kiss her. She always keeps her eyes closed but I never do. I like to see her face. I like to see her tendons flexing and muscles working. I want to nuzzle her freckles, so delicate on her angular face. I want to hear her rough breath, her low moan when she finally let’s me make her cum. I want to ask her if she’s friends with her ex’s. And find out what songs she listens to when she’s sad. I bet she just goes to the gym. But I want to ask anyway.

I want to smile when she chucks all the pillows off of the bed. I already know she’s going to. I want to play the same bad emo fuck music until she admits she doesn’t like it and starts teasing me for it (portishead, lana, fka twigs). I want to keep playing it anyway. I want to fuck her in the morning. I want to fuck her when we’re both too sleepy. I want to see what she looks like dripping wet in a pool. I want to see what she looks like when she’s angry. Now I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’ve changed my lingerie 3 times. There’s still 4 hours left before I meet her at her favourite hotel, and smile at the elevator operator, who now knows me by name. I don’t think it matters what I wear.