I hate the word fucking.
So inadequate a word, so inadequate to describe what we do. We do not “fuck”. We don’t merely perform a sexual act devoid of thought, debased to bestiality.
My tongue, my mouth, my lips buried in your kut, my nose tickled by prickly hairs, the sweat, the slickness of the skin of your hips being grasped, vise-like, in my palms, the choke of your thighs around my jaw is more than just “fucking”. It is a revelation, a realization of the elements of desire unchecked.