“I want to fuck you,” is high on my list of favorite phrases. It’s right up there next to “I’m going to fuck you,” although I use them in very different ways.
The first is something I put off as long as I can just to savor the flavor of the words in my mouth, and it works best when we have never so much as kissed. It lingers in the back of my throat as we talk and drink or dance so closely that you already know. I open my mouth a hundred times, but always hold back, not out of fear or doubt, but simply because the waiting is so delicious. My lips against your ear, my fingers through your hair, and my hands on your hips as we stand in the same space all speak it before I do.
And then I pull back, letting the temperature drop for just a moment because it’s a phrase that needs space. It needs a hint of distance before it can be closed in an instance, my mouth against your neck, as the words come out as if on their own. Unruly and wanting.
“I want to fuck you,” I finally whisper, and then we’re out on the street, frantic for any hint of privacy so we might accomplish our task.
With the other, it’s nearly the reverse. The statement comes first and the waiting comes after. When we met in the park on a Sunday, they were the first words whispered in your ear as we embraced.
“I’m going to fuck you,” I said, before stepping back with a smile.
I could feel your knees tremble for just a moment, and in an instant, our afternoon became something else. Our walk through the rose garden and our break for a drink at the Boathouse were laden with expectation. I whispered it over and over again until it was no longer a plan but an inevitability.
By the time we found an arch, so quiet and dark right at dusk, we couldn’t wait a moment longer. Your legs around me, my hands grabbing your hips and ass as I thrust into you, and our wordless fuck beneath the stone bridge were the rewards for our hours of anticipation.
Either way, we wait, and either way, I feel the weight of the words in my chest and my gut. I try them silently to myself, I hold them in my mouth, rolling them over on my tongue, and then, when there is simply no other choice, I let them go.
I want to fuck you.
I am going to fuck you.