tell me you love meLate at night, when I start getting sleepy and snuggly, and I take a deep breath and listen to my body, those words echo through my mind before I know where they will lead, but they set the stage.
tell me you love meI worry about being manipulative, even though I know sometimes I am, by the nature of the business. But I have lines I try to draw: I never ask anyone to refill their account after the one-minute warning (except for the one guy who asks me if I want you to come back, and I know you do it because you like to hear me beg). If I hear the one-minute warning and I know you're close, I'll push instead of slowing down, even knowing that if you climax, you're more likely to hang up and send me a thank-you note than you are to refill your account.
tell me you love meOver the weekend, I built a ridiculously intense connection with a caller and told him it sounded like he was telling me he loved me, but there were a million ways for him to sluff off my comment, and I knew he was smart enough to navigate beyond that if he chose to.
tell me you love meBut it's different than the phrase I hear in my head. That one, it is direct, unsluffable. It's needy. It's desperate. It's manipulative. I could never say those words to someone unless I trusted them deeply to hold their own power, emotionally, to not let me coerce them, to only tell me if it's the truth.
tell me you love meSometimes the emotion behind someone else's words can hit me square in the chest, or in the gut, or make my head spin, or make my mouth water. It is irrational that I would crave for someone to tell me they love me when I logically find the word to be meaningless without further definition. And yet, the origins of a thousand orgasms are in these words for me:
tell me you love me... and I don't know why. I've started writing probably a dozen stories with that as the first line, and I get lost in them, unfinished, because they never seem worthy enough to fill in the possibilities the phrase creates.
I won't do it. I won't say those words to you. Not over the phone, not when you're paying for the call. You're there for your pleasure and entertainment, I couldn't ask that of you.
But if you tell me to say them, tell me I can, I will,
Tell me you love me.But if those words tumble out of my mouth, and you respond, I'll warn you now, I don't know what my response will be, other than ... intense.
Who doesn't love Galiana?!!
ReplyDeleteAwwww, thank you lovely!
ReplyDeleteThat is a particularly powerful phrase. I can see things getting very complicated during a call if words like that get introduced. Granted, the thrill they generate can be electrifying to the point of sensory overload, but when that passes you get that uncomfortable moment of "That wasn't real....right?" between you and your partner. You'd have to be sure that the person you're talking to is clear on the parameters of the conversation and isn't going to get too attached as a result.
ReplyDeleteHaving said that, if I heard that phrase from a woman I was attracted to, every single switch in my body would instantly flip to ON. ;)
Kyle, Welcome to my blog!
ReplyDeleteThankfully, I seem to usually have a strong enough intuitive sense of what might go over relatively well ... and I don't think I could say that to someone unless they had already told me they loved me.
As for being real... well... I'm the one who argues that a character like Snoopy is a certain kind of *real* even though he is *fictional* soooooo maybe I'm not a good one to ask about whether or not something was real. :D
As for getting too attached, I tend not to worry about it unless I have a spidey sense things are headed down a potentially treacherous path, and then I bust out the Caveat Cannon, as I like to call my hyper-vigilant over-protective urges.
Good to know about your switch!