Thoughts on date night

Receiving date night plans and instructions turns me on more than giving them.

Last-minute plans are so fun, but I like to have a few days to simmer.

We should always have drinks before dinner.

I’m sorry that I laughed when you pressed me up against the side of the building. I liked it, I really did. I want you to do it again. The laughter was a combination of my pure joy and my awareness of our changing.

I want to kneel for you on a bridge. But I don’t want you to ask me if I’m ready. I want you to set it up. I want you to tell me to do it. Be bossy. I want you to.

I like to be directed, not asked. If you don’t know what you want, then tell me that I’m in charge. Don’t ever ask me what I want you to do. If there is something, I’ll tell you.

Hotel sex is really fucking hot, even when it’s not dirty.

Thanks, Mark.

One comment

  1. Mark says:

    What can I say? It was spur of the moment. Until late Friday night I thought you had other plans for Saturday.

    I think the laughter was more about the change itself. When I do something out of character, you can’t help but laugh at it at first. It would be the same whether I suddenly pushed you up against a wall or pulled up in the driveway wearing leather and riding a Harley.

    Sorry if the hotel wasn’t skeevy enough for you, but I’m glad it was still as hot for you as it was for me.

    And kneeling? Well, I’m going to leave you anticipating the moment that I tell you to do it, but never quite knowing when it will happen. By making you wait, I’m making your desire my own.