What I Want

I want to play with your long hair, to feel it silk­i­ness slith­er­ing between my fin­gers. My chest wants to be rid­dled with goose bumps as your hair teases my skin while you ride me. I want to grab your hair by the nape of your neck and con­trol you with one hand; wher­ever I want you, you will fol­low, even if it is to push your face force­fully to the ground, impris­on­ing you with your ass high in the air, your most sen­si­tive flesh exposed to me, open to me. I want to see your face con­tort in pain as I drag you by your hair to your des­tiny. I want to yank your head back by your hair and bite your neck until you cry out in agony. I want to bury my face in it once I am done with you and pull it over me like a shroud, inhal­ing the sweet, del­i­cate scent of your perfume.

I want to lock your eyes in my gaze as I do unspeak­able things to you. I want to see them well with infant tears as I claw at your flesh and I want to drink the ones that are com­ing to mat­u­ra­tion rolling down your cheeks. I want you to cry as I plun­der your body and stretch it beyond your wildest imag­i­na­tion. I want to taste the salty rem­nants of your anguish on my skin.

I want to hunch down with your hips at eye level and peel off your panties and watch them stick to your cunt. I want to bury my face in your crotch and breathe in deeply the scent of Woman. I want to taste the sweet nec­tar that is weep­ing from your core and lap at it with long, lan­guid strokes caus­ing your being to shud­der. I want to watch, inches away, with rapt atten­tion, as your lips swell, part­ing to expose the shy pink­ness that lies beneath. I want to tease the lit­tle nub that emerges and is such a sweet con­trol trig­ger to your pleasure.

I want to have my head between your thighs in the 69 posi­tion, devour­ing your clit, suck­ing on it furi­ously while hold­ing you fast with one arm around your waist and the other around your ass and hips, so that you are unable to get away, forced to endure the almost painful plea­sure I give you.

I want to taste the sweet­ness of your kiss, espe­cially when I manip­u­late you with excru­ci­at­ing sav­agery. I want to breathe in your moans of pain and plea­sure and I want to muf­fle the screams of your orgasm with my mouth. Yes, the sound of your com­ing is the sound I cher­ish the most. Even when, finally, I enter you, pass­ing your outer lips and take you, all that is on my mind is to hear you sing your plea­sure again. And again. And again.

In fact, your seduc­tive song, your heated mewl­ing, and your heart-​tearing beg­ging will make any man give up his honor and life to lose him­self inside you. I can­not tell you how it makes me feel when you beg and plead. I feel like I am wit­ness­ing a force of nature of hunger and yearn­ing. A barely con­trolled storm that will eat me alive if I allow it, if I am not careful.

I want to sur­ren­der con­trol to you in the way a man sur­ren­ders to a woman when she takes him in her mouth. I want to feel your tongue undu­late against the sen­si­tive under­side of my cock while your hands play with my shaft and my balls. I want to throw cau­tion to the wind and grasp your head by your hair and impale you on me. I want to feel your nose against my pelvis and I want to pound your mouth like I want to pound your cunt. I want to lay you on your back on the bed with your head falling off the edge so that your throat is open to me and fuck you. I want to slide into you until there is noth­ing left of me to bury. I want to feel my scro­tum cov­er­ing your nose and mak­ing it hard for you to breathe. I want to grip your throat as you are lying there, not to deprive you of air but to feel the pul­sa­tions of my cock jerk­ing inside your throat as I pour myself into you, to feel you swal­low me, all of me, to feel you accept me and claim a part of me forever.

I want to lose myself in the deli­ciously erotic image of you kneel­ing before me, wait­ing, want­ing to have me in your mouth. From my ele­vated van­tage point, I see the mounds of your breasts jig­gling slightly with your move­ments, I see your long, black hair shroud­ing your shoul­ders and I see your lit­tle pink tongue tip uncon­sciously wet­ting your lips. My cock aches to feel those lips part around it, to feel the tex­ture of your tongue tick­ling the so sen­si­tive under­side. My hands are itch­ing to feel the silky strands of your hair in them as I guide you onto me, slid­ing in and out, excru­ci­at­ingly slowly. I can feel every inch of your tongue against me, your lips clamp­ing down, suck­ing me in. Look­ing down, I can see the grace­ful arch of your back, and the swell of your hips and your bot­tom. Such a deli­cious, delight­ful view.

I want to ten­derly touch your silky skin, leav­ing goose bumps in my trail. I want to fol­low my fin­gers with my nose and my lips, sim­ply feel­ing the resilient soft­ness of your curves. I want to be the intre­pid explorer of your con­tour and learn the ter­rain like a war-​lord before he unleashes his army to do bat­tle on it. I want to appre­ci­ate the vir­gin beauty of your unbro­ken skin and I want to admire my hand­i­work by the tin­gling red­ness and bruises I leave behind.

I want to imprison your arms and your legs, your wrists and your ankles. Del­i­cate and fem­i­nine, they are made to embrace me, be it to pull me closer or to vainly push me away. Your lit­tle fists, so diminu­tive in my hands and yet pow­er­ful enough to cause me pain when you pound on my chest, so beau­ti­ful when they grasp the sheets for lever­age or when they clutch my cock, are ulti­mately use­less when I seize your wrists and restrain you, tak­ing you.

I want to spend hours rever­ing your breasts. I want to lay my head on them and rest on the nur­tur­ing soft­ness they pro­vide. I want to the your nip­ples and make them stand up and salute me. I want to suckle them and nurse from them. I want to bite them and tor­ture them. I want to wor­ship them and make your body respond to me with­out touch­ing any other part of you. I want to make you come just from suck­ling you. I want to bury my face in your cleav­age and feel the warmth radi­at­ing from them. I want to feel your nip­ples graze my chest as you ride me. I want to slap them and watch with glee as your face betrays your shock and they jig­gle beneath my touch. I want to own your breasts. I want to make them my toys to play with. I want you to offer them to me.

I want to feel the resilient pli­a­bil­ity of your full, entic­ing breasts, the skin taut and silky and flaw­less. Your nip­ples call­ing out to me that they want, no, that they need to be touched by my fin­gers, sucked on by my lips, teased by my tongue, des­e­crated by my teeth. I want to make them my world for a long time, and bask in them and I wor­ship them. I do not want to move on until I feel your hips mov­ing des­per­ately try­ing to find some­thing, any­thing, to rub your throb­bing wet­ness against. I want to spank your tits and come on them and scoop up my seed with my fin­gers and make you lick them clean.

I want to be in the shower with you, stand­ing behind you, lath­er­ing your breasts. I want to feel their silky heft, their resilient full­ness on the palms of my hands. I want to feel the nip­ples, slip­pery with soap, slith­er­ing between my fin­gers. I want to explore your body with my soapy hands, slid­ing over your waist, down to your hips. I want to feel the silky smooth skin of your thighs and your arms and I want you to lay back your head and rest it on my shoul­der while I mar­vel at your curves. I want to be the one hold­ing the noz­zle while you spread your legs to allow access for the stream of water. I want to watch, heady with lust as your body reacts to the stim­u­la­tion and you are pinch­ing your nip­ples. I want to be the one hold­ing you as you are shak­ing after your climax.

I want to lose myself in your weep­ing snatch. My fin­gers or my cock, it doesn’t matter–I just need to feel your body wrap­ping itself around me. I want to reach down and find your soft dark­ness wet with desire, radi­at­ing a heat that seems to draw me in no mat­ter what my own wishes might be. I want to feel your flesh part­ing for me, let­ting me in. I have never, and prob­a­bly never will, felt a greater charge than when my fin­gers reach for a woman’s core and find it drip­ping with desire for me. The heat, the soft­ness, the wet­ness, it all sings a song of wel­come and invi­ta­tion. To push four hun­gry fin­gers into you, feel­ing your vel­vety inter­nal mus­cles grip me and your body sur­round me, pulling me in deeper and deeper. It is some­thing spe­cial to dip my fin­gers into a your body, even more so than my cock. Not nec­es­sar­ily bet­ter, just dif­fer­ent. A cock is an instru­ment for plea­sure for the owner; it is sen­si­tive to touch and fric­tion, but not in the same way your fin­gers are. My fin­gers can appre­ci­ate and explore the insides of your body in a way that my cock cannot.

I need to feel the silky walls inside you grip me, any­thing of me. With one arm I want to restrain your wrists, telling you that you are mine, to relax and let me take you. My other hand wants to find the river between your legs and drowns in it. My fin­gers want to slide inside and as you gasp and heave, they want to dance inside you, stroking, teas­ing, pleas­ing all the sen­si­tive spots. When the walls around my fin­gers col­lapse almost painfully hard, I kiss you and as you come, you scream your plea­sure into my mouth.

When your slip­pery, wet cunt is more than usu­ally insa­tiable, when all it can think of is being filled to the brim, to stretch and devour some­thing, any­thing, to be invaded, I want to be there to fill you. I want to fin­ger fuck you for a long time, until my fin­gers are look­ing like prunes and your juices stain not only your thighs but you are cre­at­ing a wet spot all by your­self. Your mind is scream­ing for more, exactly what it doesn’t know, just more. Your body is open­ing up like a flower and feels like you want to invite the whole world in.

I want you to revel in won­der­ful stretch­ing sen­sa­tion as I fold my thumb in and push. I want you to feel how your body reacts with­out con­scious thought and it spreads your legs even far­ther apart, open­ing up even more. I want you to expe­ri­ence the almost spir­i­tual feel­ing of being open and recep­tive when the knuck­les of my fist graze your cervix. I want to give you the most immense invader for your mus­cles to grasp; your labia spread­ing to accom­mo­date my hand and mer­ci­lessly expos­ing your sen­si­tive lit­tle clit to my tongue and my teeth. I want to take you that profoundly.

Even if I would be loathe to remove my fin­gers from your con­strict­ing, hot dark­ness, my body would be beck­on­ing for enter­ing you urgently, cool­ing the white-​hot painful erec­tion with your own heat. I know the moment–my erec­tion so hard it is almost numb. I could chip away at con­crete with it. If you hit it with a ham­mer, the ham­mer would dent. The only thing stronger, the only thing that can mas­ter that hard­ness is the soft, silky wet­ness of your body, juicy and ripe for the tak­ing. The heat radi­at­ing from your core so intense that I need not guide myself with my eyes; I can feel your prox­im­ity by tem­per­a­ture alone. And as I touch the lips guard­ing your entrance, and at the moment of con­tact, nature’s auto-​pilot takes over and there is noth­ing you nor I could do to stop it. At the moment of con­tact, your fate is sealed. Your body is mine. At the moment of con­tact, my mind is dis­con­nected from my body and as a pas­sen­ger, in slow motion, I sim­ply expe­ri­ence the part­ing of your labia, feel­ing them cling to my shaft as I slide deeper and deeper into you. I want to feel your body open­ing up to accom­mo­date me, adjust­ing itself to allow me in, finally wel­com­ing me.

I want to feed my swollen and antsy cock to you, to have your body sur­round it just like my soul is sur­rounded and cra­dled by your soul. Although some­times I sim­ply want to unzip my fly and bend the you over and shove my prick into you with­out circumstance.

I want to raid your entrance with a huge dildo, almost men­ac­ingly big, veined, and built for female plea­sure. I imag­ine your body los­ing con­trol when I ease the thing into you, thighs open­ing to let the invader in, hips buck­ing to accom­mo­date, clit erect and beg­ging for lips to suck on it and teeth to bite it. I imag­ine the sen­sa­tions of your body assault­ing your mind and shut­ting it down so that all that remains is a ripe female body, open and recep­tive, eager to wrap itself around all the plea­sure I can push into it.

I want to spank your lovely round ass while you are lying on your stom­ach on a bed. I want your thighs parted to accom­mo­date the huge dildo I have slid into you and every spank to cause your pussy to con­tract around the arti­fi­cial cock, inten­si­fy­ing your plea­sure both inside and on your blis­ter­ing cheeks while I’m teach­ing you some much needed patience.

I want to savor the sat­is­fac­tion of feel­ing your body giv­ing itself to me to do with as I please. I want to drink the emo­tions pump­ing through your heart. I have the con­trol and patience to truly appre­ci­ate the beauty beneath my fin­ger­tips. I want you to be a whore in need; just a dirty lit­tle tramp not know­ing what to do with herself.

The fever in my blood rises every time I think of ten­derly make your skin rip­ple, to ever so gen­tly extract moans and screams of pain-​stained plea­sure from you. To kiss the sheen of sweat from your fore­head and breathe in your spas­mic exhales while my hands roam and explore your body to learn its secrets, to find the spots that hurt the most or feel plea­sure the most. I want you to gasp in pain at my touch and give your body to me as a sacrifice.

I want to pos­sess you utterly and com­pletely, you eagerly sac­ri­fic­ing your­self on the offer­ing altar of my desire to trea­sure and use, to cher­ish and abuse. I want to cut through your skin and nurse your liq­uid soul like a vam­pire. To make you cry–oh, God, to make you cry and drink your tears. To stretch your soul and wrap myself in it like a warm blan­ket. To stretch your flesh and wrap it around my body like a womb. To be shack­led to you, addicted to you, and obsessed by you.

I want to suc­cumb to the emo­tional release of unleash­ing my inner beast and let him use, abuse, and con­sume you. To shed my mask and allow the ele­men­tal mas­cu­line in me dive into the cool, sooth­ing pool of the ele­men­tal fem­i­nine in you. To envelop myself in the soft radi­ance of your plea­sure and pain. To drink your tears and lap at your nec­tar. To be chained by your yield­ing flesh and soft touch. To pos­sess and to be possessed.

Can you han­dle being taken that deeply?

Hurt that profoundly?

Sav­aged that abysmally?