Sometimes I wonder if I say I Love You, too often.
Like what is the acceptable number of times in a given day that I am supposed to let you know what you actually mean to me?
What other words are there that make sense?
I could say “I Like You”, but since I am not asking you to the Homecoming Dance, I think I’ll skip that.
I could say “I think you are neat”, but that just sounds dumb now, yet still will carry a special nostalgia. Now when I order a scotch, I can only order it neat. Doesn’t really matter though because I am a bourbon man.
Yeah. I fucking Love You. Am I supposed to pipe down? I know you feel the same way, so it’s not that I am worried about reciprocation. I would never tell somebody that if I was.
I mean for fuck’s sake, after all, you just sent me this picture above, after you told me “I love you, sooo much” twice, before 8 am, then a few more times, then told me you were going to plug your sexy little ass all day and send me pictures throughout it.
I know your pussy is wet for me right now because you told me so.
I know you are going to write in your journal about how I make you feel. You know I am going to read it.
I know you are going to write about how being plugged makes you feel. You know I am going to read it, with a grin and a hand on my jeans.
Some days I am just more proud of you than others. I can already sense that today, is just one of those days.
You remember that plug so much better now, don’t you? It is now made of steel, jewelry, and memories that make you smile.
Just a handful of days ago, that beat red ass held my cum inside it, plugged, and you put on your dress as we went out dinner.
You felt like a good girl and my bad little slut all at the same time.
God, you looked so fucking beautiful that night.
Neck squeezed, ass spanked, and orgasm overload, sending you into a surreal submissive state that you discovered that day. Knowing what the front door of subspace looks like; poking your head inside and curious to see the whole house.
I am going to learn every contour of your body. Each time you moan, I will have not hoped for it, but known it was coming before you did. I’ll be able to hit your G spot from across the room, blindfolded. You have no idea what is coming your way and I fucking love it.
You thought it couldn’t get better?
I thought, that it personally couldn’t have been worse.
I watched you cum countless times. But countless is not enough.
I want one hundred multiplied by countless.
I am well aware that you ache for me, right now in this very moment, as you read this, and I know your pussy is saturated even more than when you came for me this morning.
But your ache you feel now, it is nothing, compared to what level of ache is coming.
You are mine.
Now touch that pussy of mine and tell me about it. I am not asking.
Oh yeah…almost forgot…
I Love You.
Also published on Medium.