K ~ Mr. Kinesthetic Genius

Kinestetic genius

Dear Mr. Kinesthetic Genius,

Whenever I hear somebody say you can tell what somebody’s like in bed by watching them dance, I think of you. Yet the first time I saw you, you weren’t dancing. You were teaching boys how to do summersaults on the beach. You made it look effortless; take a few steps, jump, float for a bit as you circle around yourself and land on your feet again. Smiling. Without breaking a sweat.

The second time I saw you, you boldly introduced yourself by kissing me directly on the lips. Smiling. Without breaking a sweat. I was a little taken aback, but the kiss itself had such a lasting effect that I wasn’t able to tell you off.

The third time I saw you we actually did dance. I couldn’t stop smiling. Breaking a sweat as you tossed me around the dance floor, picking me up, throwing me up in the air only to catch me again with your strong, sculpted arms. Any kind of movement or interaction came naturally to you. And it was as if your in-depth knowledge and control of your own body made me more aware of mine.

So I couldn’t wait seeing you for the fourth time. That is when I truly experienced your genius. As soon as you kissed me and folded me into your arms, I just wanted to soak you up. With every touch I became more aware of my body and the pleasure you were giving it. While at the same time becoming less aware of my thoughts. It felt like a cliché romance novel; my skin burning with desire, my lips and tongue hungry for your taste, my sex begging to be ravished. A first time with someone had never felt so natural. You knew exactly which buttons to press. Soft caresses and deep eye stares alternated with biting and pulling my hair. All the while moving with a slight smile hovering around your lips. It was obvious you were a well-practiced lover. Though I do absolutely believe that some people have a talent for touch. And you were the fucking Mozart of touch. So as I walked away, still feeling drunk with arousal, I tried to smother those negative thoughts by the after shocks of pleasure I was still experiencing.

I was probably just one of your many lovers.
I was just some tourist for you to be fucked.
You probably didn’t mean a thing you said.
You only fucked me because you thought I was an easy target.
It could never be more than this one night.

But hey: so fucking what. For a few days I was in the honorable company of a kinesthetic genius. And it made my body feel alive. It reminded me of the beauty of touch, sensuality and sex. And basically, it was highly satisfying.

Getting slightly moist just thinking of you,

Ms. Alphabet

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