I need love 

*cue LL beat*

Addicted

I used to think that I was addicted.  As I became more educated in the term and gained an understanding from readings and documentaries, I know that I do not have a sexual addiction.  Perhaps I am addicted to making love.  The feeling and the orgasmic release. The euphoria that your body is in afterwards.  I want more and more.  No substitution.  It wouldn't work with anyone.  The best part of making love which makes it better than any sex or drug, is that it continues to get better than the first time.  It won't leave you chasing that initial high that some say, with drugs you will no meet again.  It will never leave you feeling empty inside and emotionless as with useless sex.  Making love fills you up.  It not only makes you have a physical burst of fluids but you will also burst with energy.  To share. Give and receive. Taking all of your partner in.  Filled. Exhange of energy. Love so deep that your souls dance. I'm addicted to that feeling each time.  The anticipation for the next time.  Build my patience for the right time. Synchronized. It starts with a touch, a kiss, an embrace.  In His arms. The one that I love.  I am addicted.
I am so addicted that some nights I can't even sleep.  I lay in bed in the dark staring into space thinking of the last time that I felt that tap. I mean that slap on my ass.  Love taps.  :) Aggressive. When we make love the mood isn't planned. Yes we can fuck like the lion and lionness  in our kingdom. The animalistic behavior that can be displayed. Our wild passion. It can be right on time. Rough love. We both like love it. It's allowed.  Love making doesn't always have to be slow.  Sensual. The type where you take your time and savor every pore on each other's skin.  Cause when you are addicted you don't want to miss not even a single bit.  You want it all. You want to give your all.
I almost feel selfish thinking of my addiction. Yes, I want to give Him pleasure. Yes, I would like it in return but it isn't always necessary. I feel selfish that I still have wants.  I want to hear His moans. Feed my ego and my addiction and tell me that this time is better than the last.  Feed my addiction with your staggered breathing.  I know that when you feed my oral addiction and control my breathing. I want to hear that I have taken yours. Addicted, not allowing yourself to stop and pushing the limits a little further each time.  Harder.  Stronger. Make me sweat. Not sweating from the lack of getting my addiction pumped into my veins. But make me sweat from indulging in it.  Heat. Passion. Love making that will increase your heart rate. Not from any unnatural chemicals that have entered my blood stream but the chemicals from our love making. Ending in our moans and screams.

Where has the tenacity gone?