What the fuck is it with me always having to initiate it? Is it like that with all guys? Are there women in this world that grab their man by the cock and say “Damn you are so fucking sexy. I want you to fuck me. Hard! Please! Now!”?
When you are used to handing out half a dozen orgasms, minimum, every fuckin’ time, I’d assume I’d be greeted with a bent over tied up schoolgirl outfit each time I walk in the door, but this vision still seems to escape me. Maybe I need to go for a dozen.
Just send me the ambitious little slut pining for me when I walk in the door after mowing the lawn in my white wifebeater tank top, tan shoulders and arms looking not all that bad if I do say so myself. You know those arms that you can just imagine will be used to squeeze air from your neck the moment you walk up to me and make it known you fuckin’ want me.
Make it known, Kitten.
Make it known.
You think I don’t want to feel wanted too? Meet me halfway and I’ll be eating your pussy in two seconds flat. I’ve been thinking about it all fucking day.
By the time we reach the bedroom, I’ll have already made your knees shake a few times and it’s time to tie those hands up with my tank top and finger you until you are falling off the fucking bed.
Wet will be an understatement.
I’m gonna wait until you are at peak saturation and then devour you one more time until my beard is soaked with your lust and drizzle it across your face and chin when I kiss you.
I wanna see you happy from it.
Now is the time to give your cervix a nice pummeling. You know you like those orgasms the most. I sure like watching those ones most. They last forever and I get to see it from 6 inches away and feel your legs twist and turn while I’m inside you.
Hold it together, honey. I know you can do it.
Or you could always just not make it known you want me and wait around for me to make the move.
Your choice, Kitten.