Her: I want you to humiliate me and spank me, I want you to finger my g-spot until I cry to you to stop. I want you to call me Peaches as I fuck your pain away.
Him: I love the sounds you make when I push my cock into your tight hole, your breathless gasps remind me that we are all imprisoned by some wall of society and the volume of your moans remind me of Ultravox; it means nothing to me.
Her: I want you to kiss me and lick me, biting my lips until I cry out that the generation above us has it wrong and will not realise they should pity us until they are on their deathbeds. I want you to make me cum over and over again, dripping onto the base of your cock until I achieve the nirvana of nihilism.
Him: I need to choke you as I fuck you, holding your neck down and making you look into my eyes with every thrust. I will hold your face tightly and make you see straight through me, to only see the lust I hold which in a week will be replaced for a better, more appropriate pairing of my choice.
Her: You blindfold me and tie my hands above my head. You go down on me sucking and licking my clit, running your tongue up and around my cunt, rimming me and getting breathless from inhaling my scent. I grind further down onto your face, begging you to make me cum, hoping that my soul exits out my pussy or the tears in my eyes.