I love how my name sounded in her mouth, she has this seductively low voice, she sounded like Karen O. only a lot less husky.
I love pulling her hair. Her unruly jet black scattered all over her forehead and with her reverse fishtail braid. Vanilla-ish.
I love how expressive her eyes are, like molten lava, like burning embers, like rich fire.
I find smart women sexy, but they can be intimidating. I often feel like she’s checking my grammar and looking for inconsistencies between my words and my actions?
I love talking to her. She’s actually one of those that I can strike a conversation without feeling awkward or something. The way she throws her witty banter and sarcasm sometimes I couldn’t keep up.
I love how she comes up with something from nothing, like how she proclaimed Sunday as ice cream day or that we shouldn’t chew chocolates, we just let it melt on our tongue.
I love how she doesn’t censor herself.
I love how she holds me and asks me what is wrong when I don’t know how to say what is wrong.
I love how she smiles before I kiss her .
I love her laugh.
I love making her laugh.
I love her.
Note: Just some random thoughts that I decided to write down while waiting for her to arrive from work.
Date: May 25, 2014