Been really tired of the whole “sex isn’t fun unless you’re tied to metal box springs in a movie-set dungeon” business lately.  

Because you know what’s also nice, especially in the summer?  Plain old-fashioned fucking.  The kind where you feel me behind you, feel my hands firmly gripping your hips, where it just feels like flying, where nobody’s in a hurry to get it over with, and where there’s no reason why we should.

Shall we dance, buttermilk?