Strong desires aren’t polite, aren’t civilized—it’s no wonder society wants to control, soften, silence them. But if everyone tries to silence their own desires—then no one gets what they want. We just end up all being polite, and deeply frustrated, together.

She has been with one lover for eight years now—long enough to trust him, a little. She has written him notes, said a few words in the darkest part of night, written messages with her finger on the skin of his back. He doesn’t always understand, but he has never laughed at her.

A few months ago she called him up and left a message on the machine.

“I wish you were here.

If you were here I would like to

go down on you.”

There are long pauses between the phrases. When he listens to the message, he can tell that she is having trouble breathing, that her throat is tight and that she stopped partway through to bite her lip, to swallow.

“I would like

you

to go down on me.”

She wanted to be more explicit, more detailed. She wanted to tell him how she loves the taste of him, how she longs to bury her face between his thighs, and then have him do the same to her, have him lick and suck and dig his fingers into her ass and lift her off the bed, but she couldn’t quite manage the words. Still, it’s more than she would have said to his face. She asks him later if he liked the message.

He says he did.

She is thinking of leaving another message sometime soon.