He brings out my Lizard brain.  The one that wants to be grabbed by the hair and dragged into the cave with him. Who wants to be taken hard – who wants to be told to suck his cock – his hand on the back of my head as I am on my knees worshiping him as he deserves to be worshiped – with tongue and lips and mouth.  That primal part of my brain who wants to be his – wants him to take me as he wants – as he desires.  Who wants to give him moans and cries and strings of profanity as he takes me in his way.  The way he knows I need – knows I want.

He brings out the girl in me – the one that wants to laugh – make snarky comments – find that nook between his arm and chest where I fit just right.  Where I feel safe.  Where I know he will tuck me in with blankets – kiss my forehead and take care of me.

He brings out the woman in me.  Making me feel feminine and perfect and beautiful.  Making me feel I can be who I am, and not be anything less than female – without makeup and just me.  He tells me that – and I believe him – ever ounce of me believes it.

He evokes my desire to love him.  To worry about him. To care for him.  Because I do appreciate and admire who he is – and I can’t help but love  those things.

He brings out these things in me.  He brings me peace and balance and laughter and love and pleasure and pain.  And I love that.