Back for another installment of Wet Your Knuckles, Miss Tumblr.
What is circulating around my mind currently is the idea of serving, servicing, and servitude.
I guess those are all part of the same underlying principle, so you can kind of just ignore my unnecessary extra words. I don’t really feel like deleting them at this point. The next sentence is practically here, after all.
You see, one constant I seem to hear often from the various Miss Tumblrs out there, is something along these lines, paraphrasing of course:
“Wow TRD. Your words. Fuck. I’m soaked. My pussy is like an Ocean Spray commercial. But what is so hot is that I love how you get off on getting a woman off. But one thing bugs me: I really love to service a man. To do to him what you describe doing to women. Make him lose his mind. I take pride in it.”
Now now, Cranberry Apple, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
You will never get to do to me what I get to do to you. I will never let that happen. I need to hold the higher ground, Kitty Cat.
It’s just how I am built.
So when you pucker up and try to paint my dick with your Clinique red, you can expect two fingers reaching across your abdomen, digging right inside you and pulling at your G spot towards me in rapid succession.
My palm and wrist tactfully making your clit dance for me.
“Oh, what’s this I see?”, I ask myself. “Another free hand?” Oh no, you are in for it now.
Now it’s time to break your spirit and make you forget you ever wanted to give me a blowjob. Don’t worry Babygirl, I will let you have your way with me soon enough.
First I want to empty your tank though. We are going to make you gush now. Just when you do it’s a lightning-fast palm reading with your clit and you will kick the bed and the dick 2 inches away from your face as you lay on your back might as well be on another continent because you couldn’t do anything to it if you tried.
I always win, princess.
Also published on Medium.