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I dream of your lips pressed against mine.With your hands exploring my body while you press me up against a wall.

I imagine you leaving me with hickeys, scratches and bite marks.
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I think of cloths scattered on the floor and of you pressing me to you so there is no space between us.

I don't want flowers, chocolates and love.
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I want lip biting, messy sheets and lust.
I want pure unadulterated passion
The most **** thing about a guy has nothing to do with his clothes, hair or eye colour.

It's in the way he looks at you with longing, when you finally find out he wants you just as badly as you want him.

When he pulls you so close to him that there is literally no space between you, because he can't stand the thought of there being any.      

When he kisses you, so that it feels as if he is stealing the air from your lungs, and for those few seconds you forget what air even is.
    
When all thoughts go out the window and its just him, with you,in the most simple way possible.

Now that is the definition of ****.
Pure passion is ecstacy...

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