He hyperventilated as he moaned.Did I mention he always refers to me as his tyrant?!
I could taste satisfaction and whole lot of action. Although I often know when to be tyrannical and when to be altruistic.It was obvious he couldn’t say the words but his body often betrayed him.
I wasn’t really sure if it was in the way he touched my skin because I felt everything he wasn’t able to say or maybe I assumed pretty must just so that it could sound good to me.
He always made it feel as though everytime was my first time.Perhaps because it had been long since…or maybe it’s because he had mastered the art of my erogenous zones.The lights were off and I could only see from the silhouette of our reflections.
I swear I’d lose interest if he had no inches, I mean its obvious its always about the pressure exerted.I’m the type that exits faster than she came if the game gets poor.I’m a wild one,I need the kind of game that gives me cardiac arrest from the moans as though I’m being robbed.
Heard men say,”we want the thick type.The kind of chicks who spin the assets as they carry them around leaving us stone hard as they walk around. “Good to look at,Aaaaaah!!!Until they can’t wiggle it while serving and suddenly it becomes a turn off!!
His dick was slowly growing ego,getting harder than life.He couldn’t be gentle.I swear he rode me mad in bed.Our gentle sin,the hell we chose to burn in.
Anti-social photographers,DBSM was our detour and the bed our arena.This made our play perennial.I swear we were wild.Indeed sex is only lame if you’re all crippled in bed.He was the type that’s hard to please.I could tell from his pelvic thrust and the weight he exerted on me.
For this reason, I halted writing only to avoid being half truthful.
It is true I have embraced countless skins before. All these bones,yet none gave me sex that I couldn’t compare.
For this reason, I found myself looking for him in all the bones I came across but none of them ever felt home to me.
For a kiss I’ll cut just to see how deep I’ll bleed.But my heart…….NO!!!! Man will ever borrow. I tend to run,yet I can’t hide.
It is not condemnation but sincere communication.
Men might have hurt me, but women wounded me.