Lovers’ Day works for me and for you, it works for the flower shop down the street and for the chain stores wherever. Valentine’s dares the singles to look for love, for the subtle core of a soul to be discovered, even if the commercials keep hurling the same old superficial red hearts cushions, napkins, lighters, pens, stickers, chairs and — yes — wallpapers… Touché!
Valentine’s will have you stop for a second and think beyond the allegory. It will have you reflect about the little things that matter most in your life. You’ve already taken all those appealing discounts and coupons for hats, chocolate and templates. You’ve heard what the experts say, for free (no room for rebates here), about a wife’s best gift to her hubby for Valentine’s Day. It’s called passion and it consumes itself in wild resounding sex, exhausting orgasms and everlasting sweaty hugs. If the routine of daily life had you totally distracted from them, if you think that these apply to college students and depraved actors, then Lovers’ Day should ring a bell. No! Not that you’ll have to do it once a year, every mid February. Not at all! It’s that you’ll have to do it at least three times a week.
For me, every day is a lovers’ day. I love waking up on the shoulder of my man, feeling his sleepy hand under my butt, or his ankle pressing my pubic mount – with his palm captured between my legs. I love having breakfast with him, making love… and some nude calisthenics (in the warm days). I love talking to him, planning with him, listening to him or screaming at him. I love watching an evening movie on his chest before falling asleep and dreaming that I fellate him on a public beach, in front of some nosy watchers.
And you know what? He diligently worked his love on me, so much and for so long, that I find myself to be quite a narcissistic woman. Yes! I love watching myself in the mirror and on the screens of notebooks and TVs. I love showing off naked and reading the compliments. That’s a bad thing: to gratify my ego with all these images and imaginations. But then, all of a sudden, the Donkey in my man will say to me (right in the middle of a porn movie we were making the day before yesterday) that I’ll have to exercise more in order to get my buttocks firmer because, ya know, they look a bit flabby to his eyes as I ride his dick facing the camera. Sure, the winter effect. He’s right! I’ll have to work the spring out in my garden. Cannot wait! The pattern I can read in his love for me is that he pushes me ahead with one hand and pulls me back with the other, keeping my ego in chains while instigating my mind to dream and my heart to rejoice. This is love, I presume. Not a glut. Just a mutual measure of things. Not a syrup. Just an avocado. Valentine’s Day may run all the red in the world (to wake us up) but what really matters is the green you’ll see (and taste) at every breakfast, or dinner. Watch the little video where I play with some avocados (the full version is available in the Members’ area).
Have just read a study with an infographic saying that couples watching porn together have an enhanced sex life! You don’t say. 🙂