M Or F?

A Particular Love

I have a particular love

Of desecrating the innocent,

Particularly

Those who do not think they are.

Tonight I may want you romantic and soft, gentle and yielding, your beauty gently on display, or I may want you trashy and eye-catching in a way that makes the world around us gasp and turn their heads, or I may want you bound, knowing the ravaging is to be brutal and you left with no relief, knowing there will be marks, and the most amazing thing, the wonder of you, is that whatever I want, you give.

What Only I Hear

Cry out. Shout. Gasp. Writhe.

Here you are mine and no one will hear your fear, your surprise or your surrender. You are mine. Now and forever.

All of You

It has never been about what you would or would not show, what you would or would not do; never about just how hard or how loud you would cry out. It was never about how far the torture could go before you sputtered the safe word, or how, the next time we went further. It was not about your hunger to please, your messy desperate hunger, your submission. what you would or would not wear and where. The collars. The chains. The cuffs. It was not how or where you wanted to be filled, or marked with cum. It was not how, once you saw that fantasies could and did become real, you gave yourself to them. It was not how often, or how many. It was not the desire that matched, sometimes somehow exceeded mine. It was not the hair trigger that set your need off, the way your body, so exquisite and lush, writhes. All those are delightful and more than most women have to offer. more than most women are. but it has always been, always be, your ability to trust the love you feel, the desire rises, and surrender to the one man who knows, and wants, constantly wants, all of you.

Limits

And just as you believe there are limits to what might become real, uyou find out there are not. None in you. And certainly none from me.

Next

Understand this, that even in the every day moments you are the object of my desire, of my imagination and need. Unsuspecting to you, even at a distance I lust, imagining what I will do with you, to you next

Weakness

I have a weakness for you surrendered

Creation

You could easily believe you made her up

She is that perfect.

A perfection beyond skin and curve and smile

even when you own her, maybe

particularly then. So perfect

that had you not held her

flesh and her heart in your hands,

you would not believe she was real.

You could not have,

even in your dreams, vivid as they are,

created her or the love

her body emanates in every image,

memory and hope.

Hours

Hours. I can spend hours savoring each square inch of perfection,

made perfect not by popular standards or the right software, but made pefect because it is you.

I am slowly finding the poems I lost in the Tumblr purge of my former site.

Serve Me.

Serve me.  Indulge my every whim and desire.  Give yourself to my pleasure,  and I will give myself to yours.