There's No Better High Than The High Of ELECTRIFYING Sexual Tension

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Who needs drugs when you have the power of all that potential at your fingertips?

Have you ever been on a first date in a movie theater, one armrest and a box of popcorn forming an entire ocean between your hand and theirs, orchestrating accidental touching like a world class composer, not hearing a single word of what's being said onscreen over the sound of your heart beating like your chest has surround sound?

Have you ever ridden a wave of desire so fierce and unrelenting that it's like stepping outside of yourself and watching your body disappear under the surface of sexual tension that electrifies you from the inside out, the way lightning bolts move inside the velvet darkness of building thunderclouds?

Have you ever watched someone from where you stand, your eyes caressing soft curves and hard angles, the nerves in your fingertips sending out an SOS to their skin, a wildfire racing through your bloodstream, flames just beneath the surface, sucking up all the air in the room?


Have you ever said hello like an invitation, danced with someone whose body moved like a mirage in front of you, wanting like a heatwave rising up from the floor, pressing your hips against them like an imprint, like a branding iron, like a question mark?

Have you ever said goodbye like it's the saddest word in the world, like next time can't come soon enough, like if you had a time machine you'd keep going back to last night, to that one moment, the second before he unzipped your dress, the breath before she whispered your name into the hollow at the base of your throat?

Have you ever felt your body hover above the bed, fingers clenched in the sheets like anchors, your arched back a bridge from contemplation to consummation, a curved line that thrums from the buzzing in your brain to the bend in your spine, anticipation like slow honey?

Have you ever felt lashes flutter at the back of your neck with the force of a hurricane, your body bending in the wind of it, rising back up for it, desperate for the brute force of a gentle kiss at the corner of your lips, ignoring the calm of the storm and aiming straight for the strongest part of it, the part that knocks the breath from you with the tracing of a finger down your breastbone?


Have you ever waded into the shallow end of wanting someone so badly that every shadow takes the shape of them, every memory has the taste of them, and before you know it, you're swimming in the deep end, holding your breath and sinking to the bottom, waiting there as the oxygen builds in your blood and your rib cage expands to make space for the simple way that their fingers fit in between yours?

Have you ever been so blissed out waiting for the next touch, the next hit, that you feel like a junkie, all washed up and hollowed out inside except for the thrill of chasing that high, the score of their skin sparking off your own, spinning you off into space, every part of you a shooting star on a collision course with their body, burning through them like a comet?

You have?

Yeah, me too.


And really, who needs drugs when you have the power of all that potential at your fingertips, the power of all that passion waiting in the wings? I'll unapologetically overdose on that any chance I get.



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