and fuck with the lights on. let him see you under these lights. while the TV plays commercials about snuggies and reruns of basketball wives, let him taste you. focus on his attention rather than the clinking of the ceiling fan that usually distracts you from the fact that he is actually diving face first between your biggest insecurities. part of you is so bothered that you haven’t been applying cocoa butter daily to rid yourself of reminders that these stores don’t carry your size and that these magazines want you to feel less about your more. don’t worry, this moment does not belong to them. this moment is yours, own it. allow him to make you shiver in the same ways you wish the world would accept your shake. tell him exactly how you would like it. often, we are afraid to be intentional with what we want for fear that people will think we’re “expecting too much”. you are not. at this size, you are not expecting more than you deserve or any more than your body will allot. so let him hold your stomach as he enters you, do not force his hands to the mattress, keep them right there as they are. place them there if you have to. allow him to grip you between his hands. he knew the woman he wanted when he saw you, and he knows your stomach isn’t flat nor rock hard, but he is no more surprised at your beauty than you are that he noticed. and when he speeds up, do not clinch yourself; breathe. if you didn’t jiggle a bit, he would probably think you weren’t living. but you are alive! more alive now than any other moment. this is climax. this is experience. this is sexual sanctuary. the lights are on, and so are you. be bold. be daring. and fuck in a brightly lit room so he can devour you as you are, and not as he would assume if the lights were off.