Women. Just every single tiny little detail about them. I love it. All of it. When you are mad, I find the beauty in it somehow. The strength in your angst. The sexiness in your “don’t fuck with me” attitude. The passion in your anger.
Your scent. As you cross paths with me at the store, whoever you are, you have no idea what your perfume just did to me. You sent me to another place in my mind and heart, by just existing.
Your smooth voice. When you sing, or when you whisper, or even when you yell, it’s still music to my ears. All of it. Just music. When you giggle I am a kid again. Trying to explain the passion I have for the other gender is just beyond words.
Your face. Your eyes. Your beautiful hair. Every single little detail of your feminine form kills me and brings me back to life at the same time.
I suppose that is why, when it’s Go Time, I bring the very best version of myself, each and every time.
When I grab you by the hair, I pull on it with purpose. With passion. Everything I do, is with passion. As my hand squeezes your neck when I kiss you, it’s to tell you, I absolutely adore everything about you. It’s me, crawling out of my skin, for you.
When I hold you down, and lift your legs back, and devour your sacred garden, I do it with purpose. I will never forgive myself if I don’t make you cum for me. So I do. And again. Until you can’t take any more.
Then I switch gears. My course of action is to make your G spot curl up and come alive, to get more out of you. So you know, I am absolutely coming alive because of the passion I have for you.
People wonder how I remain passionate. It’s never been a question; how can I not be, when you exist?
The pinnacle is when I’m inside you, yanking your hair, slapping your skin, squeezing your neck, and my eyes are filled with pure furious passion, making you fall apart one more time for Daddy. Cum Kitten, just one more time.
I need this. I need to break you down. I have to.
Because I fucking adore you.