When it comes to celebrating love, romance, and everything in between, there’s a popular perception that it has to manifest in certain ways. We’ve seen it play out in movies, TV shows, and novels, some of which I’ve written. There has to be candles, rose petals, and Barry White music playing in the background. If sexy lingerie is somehow worked in, then that’s just a bonus.
From there, it plays out in a way that’s simple, but powerful. There’s plenty of tender kissing, a dash of loving sentiments whispered over the sound of the music, and the kind of tender caressing that makes every nerve shiver for all the right reasons. It’s sweet and sexy in its own right, but I believe there’s room for other kinds of romantic expression.
Not every couple is going to be content with sweet and soft gestures. Even those who enjoy it regularly will probably be in the mood for something else at some point. That’s where the rougher part of romance comes in. By that, I don’t just mean the kind of elaborate BDSM acts that made E. L. James rich. I’m talking about the kind of raw, physical outburst that puts a little something extra into lovemaking.
These days, it’s somewhat tricky to celebrate rough sex. It’s become taboo to be rough with any intimate partner. The reasons for this are many and I’ve already written multiple articles about the tricky politics surrounding it. For this Daily Sexy Musing, I just want to dig a bit deeper into the unique appeal of the rough stuff that often finds its way into a passionate romance. Enjoy!
It’s our night again. We’ve gotten through our day, clearing ourselves of any and all distractions. Now that the sun has set, our priorities align. I love you and you love me. Now, we turn that love into action.
The stage is set.
The moment has arrived.
The desire wells up inside us.
We come together and let our passions do the talking. It’s simple and direct. I feel your body in my arms, tasting your lips with mine and savoring every sensation. You return every gesture, letting love and lust converge into a singular feeling. I can tell you want me. I want you too. Tonight, we’re going to fulfill those wants. Then, just as the feeling escalates, we realize something.
It’s not enough.
We stop kissing. I look at you and you look at me. My arms tremble and your body shudders. The weight of hard truth sinks in. To hold each other, kiss each other, and make love to one another just won’t suffice. For this night, we crave something more.
I see a glint in your eye and a twitch in your face. In an instant, you transform from an innocent angel to a mischievous demon. Within me, humanity gives way to more primal instincts. The balance of love and lust tips in favor of lust. We don’t fight it. In fact, we embrace it. There’s a time and a place to make tender love. Tonight, is not that night.
I don’t just kiss your lips. I devour them.
I don’t just fondle your body. I smother it.
I don’t just remove your clothes. I rip them off.
There’s nothing gentle about what we do. There’s nothing sweet or soft about it, either. We make our way to the bed, ravaging one another’s bodies with our lips and hands. We collapse top the sheets. Our flesh comes together. We’re neither careful nor slow. We just take the most basic acts of intimacy and unleash our ounce of pent up desire.
Our bodies rock.
The bed rocks.
The world around us rocks.
Grunts replace moans. Crude words replace loving proclamations. We grab and grope, smothering and salivating over the sweet bliss we conjure. This is our love at its most unrefined. Rough yet sincere, we need not channel or temper it. There will be other nights for that. For now, we express our love in the roughest of ways. Whether gentle or raw, our passions remain true.