My Double Standard Is Fucked

If I want to love you, I’ll never seduce you.

I’ll never feel comfortable wearing my sexy underwear for you, moaning your name, feeling your hard on, being naked in front of you. I won’t want you to see me that way, because I’m afraid you won’t see me any other way. That you won’t really love me. That you’ll use me.

If I want to seduce you, I’ll never love you.

I’ll never feel comfortable wearing my baggy sweats around you, or talking when I first wake up with my voice rough and raspy, feeling you hug me, wearing anything less than my sexiest clothes. I won’t want you to see me that way because I’m afraid you won’t want me anymore. That you’ll have used me.

I don’t want to be fetishized, I don’t want to be idolized. I don’t want you to look at me with awe. I don’t want to feel like your pet, your wife, your baby, your everything.

I want your respect and trust. I want it to be uncomplicated. I want us to be sweet like honey – not like refined sugar. I want to fight about what’s important, and sometimes about what’s not. I want honesty and straightforward, awkward reassurances. I don’t need to be seduced, I just need to know what you’re feeling. I want you to want me wanting you – want to want to want to need it.

I want to hold you and I want to be near you and I want to feel comfortable around you no matter what I wear, or what I say. I want to be deeper than friends, love stronger than lovers, more faithful than nuns, more sexual than whores, all in comfort. Comfort and trust and respect. Can you earn my trust? Can you get that deep inside me? I’m ready to be convinced that you won’t leave. Teach me how to fold my love and lust together.

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