If you look around on BDSMpersonals long enough, you'll notice there's a formula to the posts. Everyone seems to start with who they are and then ends with that they want. The really creative might mix a little of each into their paragraphs. The truth is it doesn't matter much who I am. There's something about the way I talk to you that makes your cunt ache and makes you question if you're even allowed to ask anymore. That's all you really need to know anyway.

I'd rather tell you about you instead. You're thirty plus. Old enough to have had some experiences, but still feel like you haven't exactly found it. You're probably partnered. We both know that you're missing something there too. That's probably the story of your life. Always missing something. I'm sure that's not your fault though.

I like when you stutter and are unable to express what is going on. The overwhelm. The compliance when you finally give in. You hate it. It feels unmanageable. Like you're not in control. I asked you for something simple a couple days ago. You gladly do it. Now....We're two weeks in and you're not even thinking. You're on autopilot and you can't believe you've stopped questioning my asks.

I require you to orgasm every time you pull into your driveway and look at the shutters on the neighbors house. Every time you see that color of green, you feel something wash over you. The shampoo aisle of target is hell. Every color of green available to you and the association with that damn color grows each time you arrive home. You're not sure if you should stop it. It feels like more control than you'd ever want to give up. But how would you even stop it now.

And that buzz and anticipation that overrides every ounce of common senses you were gifted by your mother, disappears when I message you. You don't even have to open the message to feel it leave your body and a new feeling replace it. Need. Desperation. Brené Brown has at least a dozen more for you. It doesn't matter if you can label it. Just feel it.

Late at night, you finally close your eyes. There's a comfort that creeps in. The night light in the hallway glows and your mind paces as your body fails to move. The search for justification for today has quieted. You're now in that place you've been searching for. Quiet comfort that comes after feeling alive.

If you're looking for an escape into something you never imagined, I'd love to hear from you.

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