No, I mean Passion.
Romantic passion with a capital "P."
The Passion where we've spent so much time kissing and I want him so much, that I've soaked through my panties....the Passion where every one of my senses is overwhelmed with him and I can't get enough of how intoxicating he smells, how his sighs and moans tell me I'm doing everything right, how warm and firm he feels under my hands, how sweet and luscious he tastes...all over....that I can't resist one more minute, I simply MUST have him....
Yeah, THAT kind of Passion.
I think I don't have enough of that in my life. In fact, I think I have spent the last four or five years having way too little of that in my life.
I'm not a 20-nothing, 6', 105 lb model, but I'm not a hideous beast, either. I'm attractive, and I love to do what pleases a man...and I have almost 27 years of experience.
I have the love and occasional lukewarm affection of my SWI, but where is the ardor? Where is the Passion?
Over the last couple of years, I've taken an inexplicable liking to opera, particularly Italian opera, sung by men. There is something so sexy and romantic about a gorgeous man singing 'to me' in Italian that just makes me feel so alive....
About Me
- MWG
- 40-something, positive-minded Midwestern Goddess...Intelligent, but not a genius...Comfortable, but not wealthy...Intuitive, but not psycho...Kind, but not an enabler
3 comments:
I'm so glad to see you're blogging again! I've missed you!
As to passion...I wish I knew what to say on that one. I think it tends to wane as the marriage marches on...only it comes in these spurts on occasion making it oh-so-better than the nightly 20's something passions.
I think.
In your situation I don't know. I'd be frustrated as well.
Thanks for your comments, Marsha...I think I'm just mourning the loss of what used to be and how much I miss it.
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