That’s love, I think, licking your lover's come off the floor. Masturbating to them when they are not there.

I can't remember when or if that ever was.  For me. 

I think love is letting your cunt be punished for an amount of time that seems endless like some sort of dreamlike time loop filled with sweat and hair and coming so hard you screamgrunt and then huff with that emotional release that wants to become crying but you don’t because you are face down in a pillow on your knees that are collapsed now so really you are on your thighs like some flesh-colored frog and you know that crying would just be weird. But still, you wanted to because it felt necessary. And you could’ve. But you didn’t.

There are many kinds of love.