A Dominant. An Owner. A Daddy. A Sir. A Mister.
A big giant fucking softie when it comes downs to it.
The power you yield is downright pathetic when I think about it. It becomes very obvious to me in those little moments, like when you get done working out and you tell me you are “hot and sweaty”, and I immediately grab my dick on the outside of my khakis and squirm just a bit in my chair, aching for your feel and the taste of your salt, seeing the wet hair stuck to your neck like I just fucked the living daylights out of you. The hair as I know it is when “hot and sweaty”.
It is the smell when you walk in front of me that permeates the air as you leave it behind, seeping into my lungs, then my heart, and eventually my soul.
It is that sounds you make when you cum hard and beg me for your orgasm, or the pride in your voice when I cum hard for you.
It is the way you react when my eyes are violating your subconscious, my right leg over your left with my cock inside you, pounding you deeply and I see in your eyes I am hitting that spot, and then you cum for Daddy.
These hands may choke you while I fuck you. They may slap you right across the face and tits as I penetrate your sacred garden. They may put bruises all over your ass for the next week.
But who are we kidding? These hands, this body, and everything in it is all yours and always has been since the day I said I Love You.
I may be your Wolf. But I am a sheep too.
But only for you.