Sexy Saturdays: The Problem with Chemistry

 

Today is a very unique post that I fear was too far long in coming. I met DJ of Dysfunction Junction forever ago on the Twitter and loved her instantly. She's sweet and sassy yet not afraid to use that quick wit for evil. Which makes me cream. But it never occurred to me to check if she blogged until like a month ago. Kiddos? She is a kickass blogger! Mark that as a huge fail for me.

You can count her as one of the many friends I've made that live in the one major US city to which I've (shamefully) never been: Chicago. Whenever I remedy that, she'll need to be there to make me laugh. As she says on her "about" page, "I blog because I’m hoping you’ll laugh so hard that milk (or whatever you’re drinking) comes out of your nose." I'm counting on that. 

I think you're really gonna love this post. It's different than anything we've had on Sexy Saturdays thus far, both poetic and incredibly dirty while short enough to leave you wanting more. Really, really wanting more. So you people will just have to go read her blog to get even more Dysfunction Junction or follow her on the Twitter. Or both!  

Enjoy!

I let out a small whimper as he grabs and winds his hands into my hair and pulls my lips to him.  He grabs my face harder than he probably should.  He knows he can do these things because I trust him implicitly.

There’s something between us that I’ve never had with any other man.  I’m not saying I haven’t had connections with men; but he knows my ins and my outs, all my very darkest secrets.  And I know his.

There was something immediately between us.  From the first words exchanged, we knew there was something about each other.  We have similar “selves”, an outward appearance that belies many of the fantasies we share.  I’m never afraid with him; never timid to say something and worry that he may be turned off or worse, disgusted by me.

He’s asked me to do things that if it were anyone other than him, I’d steer the conversation onto other matters.  Not with him.  With him, I plunge headfirst into my desires and his.

He whispers into my ear and I agree to anything.  The ebbs & flows of dominance between us change with almost every heartbeat.

He’s the closest thing I’ve ever come to an addiction.  Sometimes our relationship is awful for me.  I’ve called him a bastard and he’s had choice words for me.  He and I both know that we say those words because we’re wrapped up in each other.  We’re linked in ways I can’t fully put into words.  He’s said it’s like being drunk on me, that I’m the only one who knows him.  It’s true; we’re the only people who know these parts of each other.

That’s the problem with chemistry.  You click.  It’s instantaneous.  Intoxicating & maddening.

I couldn’t give him up.  Even if I wanted to.