Suspects
I realize that most of the sexually free people are the ones you never suspect.
They are the ones that, in order to figure them out, you have to stare deeply into their eyes.
People are quick to throw labels on other folks: freaky, nasty, etc., etc., but they don’t really know, do they?
They don’t know about the times where we’ve done a lot more than just be intimate. The times where things almost got out of control… and we wouldn’t have minded if it did get out of control. The times where nothing else matters except that next orgasm.
And they will never know, unless we tell them.
Or unless they pay attention.
We walk among you; in business suits, teaching your kids, cooking your lunches, selling you items, fixing your computers. We are the ones that have the bite marks right below the collar, the hand print on the ass, the rug burn covered by stockings, the bruises covered by long sleeve shirts.
You can never pick us out of a lineup. We are the suspects you never suspect.