Some days I am Buttman. The Darker Knight. He is like a superhero of sorts. He sneaks up on you from the rear.
Bam! Pow! Bang! Biff!
I grab you by the hair, toss you onto the bed like a piece of meat, and before you know it, spit, pressure, pop, push, pain, pleasure, and I am deeply fit tightly inside your deepest regions.
It’s not an everyday thing, unless, of course, we fuck a lot every day.
It goes like this: pussy, ass, mouth, tits. That’s the order of my favorite body parts you offer. Not the order in which I enter you; ATM is fucking disgusting.
Normally when I get at you, I eat and finger your clit, finger your G, make a tally in my head of how many times you came so far, and drive my cock straight up into your O spot until you flip around like a fish out of water.
But sometimes. Sometimes I want your little butt.
I want Catwoman. So Kitten, bend over, and Buttman is playing the theme song in his head as he enters your unholy darkness.