My blood is boiling with desire. Lust is pumping through my veins. The overwhelming need to dominantly fuck is always present.

My urge to hold you down. One hand on your hips pressing down your body in compliance, and one hand around your throat squeezing around your seductive neck.

When I see you, I am taken to that place each time. When you text me, I feel closer to that place. I desire you in ways most men would never feel brave enough to explore.

I lust for things that would be brutal to some and a perfect romance to us. I want to submit you to my will, use you as I crave, and dominate you how you need.

I am the wild and loving mix you so desperately need. We are both victims of trauma that made us this way. Both of us are brave enough to live out the sexual way the world has made us to be.

Where most people need flowers and chocolates, we crave whips, chains, and restraints. Both investing in techniques most would never try.

Holding you down, I thrust and fuck and pound my way into your heart.

I do not choke the airway; I press specifically along the sides of the neck to give you the blood choke that is less amateur and more pleasure. I do not break what’s mine. I ensure your pleasure as you are helplessly mine.

As I see you fade, I release just as your eyes roll back. I release. The rush of blood and oxygen back into your body ignites your senses, and I pull out my throbbing cock and rub your clit with the head of my cock.

You start to cry uncontrollably, and cum, and squirm. You have your whole existence change in an instant. Your sweet juices are flowing, squirting everywhere.

Right when you feel you have experienced the most pleasure anyone could endure. I slide back in cumming deep inside of you so you think how you pleasured the one that controls you.

How do you not see we are meant for these things? How does your mind not go away each time you connect with me?

I cannot make you mine if you do not let me in. You have my curiosity; do not let me move on. I never look at what's behind me