Late afternoon sex.
The light from the hallway seeping under the door.
Playful and blissfully unpretentious.
And this beautiful balance of the gentle ‘I’ve-missed-you-so-much-today’ and the dominant ‘Let-me-fuck-today’s-frustrations-out-on-you’
The hand around the neck, the kiss on the forehead
The look that you know means ‘you do what you’re told’
The look that you know means ‘I love you with every fibre of my being’
Something that can never be rivalled