I don't miss ******* that much
Every now and then, sure
What I do miss is the slow anticipated and hungery kisses
Teeth sliding over the skin and bitting here and there
Knecks bending just right and backs arching as bodies half writhe out of clothes
Eager hands gripping flesh and pushing clothes just far enough out of the way to let impatient mouths go to work
Fingers sliding and parting through heat and moisture for the first time to read reaction and translate movements of pleasure
And letting kisses grow fierce and reckless from mouths to bodies and mouths again
All while four hands start to feel like twenty and its all just a blur of exploration and lust and faint hope that love will be found somewhere in these tangled limbs
Because without that hope all it is is ******* and that's something I just don't miss