Now, don't get me wrong - a good, solid metaphor has its place, and sometimes dancing around the concept of a thing can be a sort of foreplay all its own. Hell, I'll often find myself captivated by even a particularly well-crafted allusion, perhaps even a hint of an innuendo. Many days, I'll find myself wanting a bit of indirection and intrigue.

Today, though? Today's not one of those days.

I'd like, if you'll pardon the directness, to fuck you in the butt. But, y'know, happily. With my hands on your hips and my lips nuzzling at your neck, my weight pressing you into the bed and a nice, soft blanket for you to nestle into completing the cute-lass sandwich. With the squelching slorp of a well-lubed cock that bulges in the middle and arcs up to press and thrust inside you, and fingers pressing between your thighs to tease at other spots in a circling caress, no less. We can make a mess; that's not a problem at all. It might get a little rough, with hot, low growls in your ear and a rutting smack of my hips on your ass, and, just maybe, a grunted sigh, your name on my lips, as you feel me pump and release, right down inside you in your deepest entrance.

So it'll be, in no uncertain terms, a butt-fuck. A lusty, vigorous push of my cock through your ring, my body cradling yours and making you feel small and shivery and safe, even when I've pressed you down and mounted you for a grinning, groaning rut. And it's indubitably in your butt, although I'm always up for a follow-on or an appetizer with flickering tongue between your legs, or a warm spread of pink over my shaft. Don't get me wrong, there; I enjoy every part of you.

You, by the way.

Yep, you, reading this, feeling a little bit of a flush creeping across her cheeks, a faint stirring deep down inside you - consider this an invitation; I don't bite at all.

I've got some soft, snuggly blankets set up, a nicely-warm bottle of lube - apple scented, if that helps - and, of course, a smile.

Come join me, yeah?

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