Doesn’t matter. I’m inside. Inside your house. Your home. Your safe space. Moving through each room in the dark carefully. Touching your things. Pictures. Clothing. Furniture. Marking each and every single one. Mine now. My territory. I’ve touched them like I’m going to touch you.
Finally the bedroom. Looking down at you. Sprawled out. Even under the sheets, you make me hungry.
How many times have you made me want you? Barbeques. Chance encounters at the grocer. Just waving hi as we pass on the street. You always so oblivious. Never quite understanding how you affect me. Affect men. Make them want you. Little gestures. A flip of hair. A laugh. It enflames something. Brings out desires. Dark desires. And how you dress? Ignorant of the fact that it draws gazes to all the right spots. Makes men want to devour you with a look alone. Makes us ache. Then again, you probably do know. Know exactly what you do to us. Want us to act on it. To chase. Take. Throw down. Rip clothing. And indulge. Howling at the moon as we lose ourselves in you. Is that why you do it? Temptress.
So here I am. Looking at you. Watching every motion. Feeling myself get hungry. And knowing… tonight I feast.
*************
Looking for something similar, preferably at a hotel where a key could be exchanged willingly. We’d need to discuss first in chat or messages, have safe words and feel comfortable with each other. Not into heavy abuse, want to feel your allure compel me to do things civilized rational men would not. Most importantly, looking for the right one…
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