That was the question he posed the other night after we finished with yet another amazing sexperience. Yes, sexperience. My definition: a sexual experience. There. I made a new word.
We had simply been lying on the couch in the living room when he suddenly looked at me and decided that we should go in the bedroom and pleasure each other. And I completely understood why. I credit . I know it sounds strange. For a man who knows only one way to truly show his love, a man who finds holding and snuggling to be too insignificant a demonstration of his true feelings, sex becomes the perfect expression.
A sexpression, if you will.
(See, I just did it again. Sexpression: the use of sex to express your emotions.)
So, in order to truly demonstrate his feeling he shared a sexpression that was an incredible sexperience. And it was amazing. It was hot. It was just how we wanted to end our weekend, on a high, thoroughly sated. He tells me he loves me and he shows me he loves me.
It’s in his touch, the way his hands cup my breasts and the way his thumbs stroke my nipples. It’s in the way his tongue flicks my clit. It’s in the way he moves his lips over my neck, the way his teeth nibble my ear lobe. It’s in his every caress.
And when we’re through and sleep begins to claim us, the expression of his love is in the way he wraps an arm around me and melds my body to his. Sometimes we get too hot, but he never releases me, never lets me go.
Love. That’s what makes it so hot.