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Shadows are a curious thing. Darkness that only exists in bright, direct light. Have you ever noticed that? A gray, overcast day—no shadows.
However, I’m not here to talk about physical shadows. There are other shadows, amorphous patches of darkness cast in the recesses of the mind. These too exist in contrast to the light. In my case, that light involves the usual: a respectable job, polite chats with the neighbors, some work around the house. To all appearances, a regular member of society.
No one gets to see what lies in the shadows. The urge to possess, to control, to own. To know and command your body and your mind. Knowing how to make you shiver, whimper, and throb with a few simple words.
The neighbors won’t know that during our polite chat, I’m controlling a vibrator inside you with my phone. My co-workers would never suspect that you’re telling me how you wish to be on your knees worshipping my cock during my meeting online. On a night out, the server will never dream that you have a plug in your ass because I told you to.
Everyone has their shadows. I’m looking for one girl whose shadows match mine. Who craves my hand wrapped around her throat just as much as I want it there. Who needs to get on her knees for me as much as I need that show of submission. A girl who understands the significance of offering herself up to me.
I want more than only sex. Regular conversations. Friendship. Sharing parts of everyday life.
I’m in my late 40s. I’m married. You should be too, or otherwise in a relationship. PM only to start.
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