As she moves across the room with self-assured sexuality about her with lace beauty draping her picturesque form, I pretend I have some semblance of influence over myself, solely for the purpose of making her believe that very thing.
“Confidence”, I tell myself. “She needs confidence.“
“Stay calm,” I think.
“Keep the sweat from beading off your head”, I tell myself. “That is a dead giveaway.”
Meanwhile, myself internal is a punching bag and your presence is taking out warm-up practice on me. I tell myself “Dominant. Stoic. Calm.“
“Man the fuck up. She is going to break you before you even touch her”.
Heartbeats I just resented are now pelting away at me like a hailstorm, but this time, they are welcomed by me.
I now recognize the adrenaline in my veins that was generated from the sight your stunning vision. Black deviant lace is like a shot of nitrous in the fuel behind the motor soon pulling your hair.
I stand up. Grip you by the neck and shove you against the wall and kiss everything I can with a pace like I am trying to break you down.
Fingers inside you and making you dance like a slutty ballerina. You can barely stand and I marvel in this vision.
The trembling weakened man of a minute ago is a bottled-up powder keg watching your feminine weakness buckle under my beck and call. Orgasm after orgasm fed to me like I haven’t had a meal in months.
Hair pull and a violent throw of you onto the couch as I feast on your wetness like my manhood is being measured by the veracity in how I deliver it to you.
Because it is, by me.
Cum again babydoll because I need to see those knees squeeze in order to stare at myself in the mirror later.
Pummel your deepest trenches as a maniac looking right into your soul and a firm grip around your neck and I see in your face a sense of satisfaction has set in, and it finally vindicates my sense of self-worth.
Shake one more time for Daddy. This time let me really feel it.
Slap you right across the face as I fill you with the future and collapse alongside you. Then one last hair pull to place your portrait-like face upon the broad chest of the man that just delivered his best version of himself to you.
Give me your effort.
I will give you mine.
Also published on Medium.