Girly-like nostalgia is a warm blanket I now find myself snuggling up to lately, showcasing the masculinity of a fucking Backstreet Boy as I reflect in hindsight over some of the most formative months of my life.
Quite the rollercoaster we’ve been on, my love; I really am not certain of anything anymore, other than that certain things are certainly uncertain. That, and it’s a good thing I love rollercoasters.
As I ponder it all, from the ups to the downs, how can I not feel blessed by God himself for filling my soul so completely? Yep, Tumblrettes – I warned you with the title I was dropping into vagina-mode for a moment.
You see, Kitten, you have decorated my thoughts for what feels like forever now, us spinning out of control as we dive a little deeper each time together. I try to somehow gain some sense over what the fuck has been going on in this bizarre chapter in the book of our lives but at some point, I just don’t bother because it all feels too damn good.
With all the college degrees and IQ points between us, we can read and theorize and contemplate until we are blue in face, but we still have no fucking clue how to make sense of the world we now occupy.
If I could rewind to any other point in my life, obviously with my reliable BDSM-decorated black Delorian and the assistance of my creepy old man scientist pal, I am sure I might pinch myself, and then kick myself in the balls for being such giant vagina over you. Mr. Cool looking much more George than Marty.
Yet here I am, in full vagina-mode, and you know what, I am fucking proud of it.
Most my life I kept it all inside, but not with you. All these internal thoughts I celebrate and even sometimes struggle through, and of course write about like an idiot, it still is no doubt totally apparent to even the densest of readers what is going on (note: the densest of readers would be those with facially recognizable nudes in their avatar, in case you are keeping score). Yep, it now has become obvious that dear old TRD has been head over heels in love for some time now. What a big vagina I am.
Is everything okay, TRD? I am so happy for you. But is everything okay?
Ah, just shut up Miss Tumblr, rub your hoo-ha, and watch me dry fuck the bejesus out of this post. Soon, you’ll be wet as a toothless coaches’ whistle as I craft with my libido’s infinite wisdom a few more adjectives, verbs, and nouns that will set your panties ablaze.
The difference now is that there is a girl reading it who knows exactly what it feels like when I say, “I will devour your wet pussy until you cum, over and over and over.”
So go ahead and picture that for me, Miss Orange Sky.
Go ahead and think long and hard about the feel of the tip of my tongue working it’s magic, just under your clit hood, lips spread, flicking at you until those reliable thighs try to crush my head and push me away.
But that doesn’t happen, does it? Your Daddy wedged his elbows in between your legs and now you have nowhere to run, twisting and turning as I rip one orgasm after another right from your helpless little body.
Go ahead, think about when I change pace a little.
You know, when my fingers decide to pay your G spot a visit and my mouth still drives your clit into another world. Go ahead, sink deep into what that feels like.
Recall me filling up your ass with a plug, a hand on your neck and squeezing the lack of fear right out of you, then the passion of my kiss on your lips, my eyes become your home when I do it, and my fingers on your clit making you dance yet again, all while you wait in eager anticipation for my beautiful cock you love so much to push deep inside you.
Think about it. Think long and hard about that feel. And now touch.
Go ahead, permission granted, my beautiful collared sub.
Also published on Medium.