Touching you is like Heaven to a God.
Touching you makes life feel worth living.
Touching you gives me a feeling that I haven’t felt since I wrote my first story.
I have nightmares about the goosebumps on your thighs. About the moistness between your thighs, my nightmares are that I’ll never see them again.
Or that I’ll never kiss or touch them again. I wake up looking around afraid that our best nights were our last nights.
I wake up scared to death that you’re with another man. That he has your nipple in his mouth or your finger tracing his chest as you lie in bed and talk.
I can’t sleep because the feeling of your naked body on my body is the only thing that gives me rest.
Touching you gives me a comfort that calms me.
Touching you gives me life that I never expected to have.
I hate the fact that I met you because I fear that I’ll never meet another like you.
I hate the fact that you know what you do to me and could care less because you’ve probably did it to a thousand men.
I hate the fact that your smile can change my mind set in .00001 seconds.
Touching you is what God wanted when he invented our hands.
Touching you is what Satan wants when he wants me to sin.
Touching you is my Heaven and my Hell…
I need you but I know you’re the worst thing that could have ever happened to me because you represent hope and love and desire. Why do I need all those things if all you’re going to do is walk away from me.
Your touch changed my life.
Your touch made me hate life.
I’ll bounce back from your touch but just know you’ll never meet a man that would have loved you more than I loved you.
For I not only love with my heart and soul but I love with my fingertips and the tip of my tongue and the tips of my soul.
~ Demez F. White