I have to admit something to you. It’s something I probably shouldn’t say out loud, but I think you already know. I undress you with my eyes, completely and shamelessly. I look at you and imagine how every piece of fabric would fall away from your skin, how each curve would be revealed to me, inch by inch. I can’t help myself. I see you, and my mind starts to wander, starts to create all these scenarios where there’s nothing between us—no clothes, no barriers, just you, bare and beautiful, in front of me.

It’s more than just admiration. It’s objectification, pure and simple. I know that. I know it’s wrong in some ways, but I don’t care. I want you, and I can’t stop my mind from going there, from imagining what it would be like to have you fully, completely. To make you mine in every sense of the word. And the truth is, I’ve thought about it far more often than I should. I think about you constantly. At work, at home, before bed, first thing in the morning… you’re always there, lingering in the back of my mind.

It’s hard to stand sometimes when I think of you. I mean that quite literally. The thought of you—the way you look, the way you move, the way you smile—gets to me in ways that I can’t control. It stirs something deep inside me, something primal, something that wants to strip away everything else and just take you. I picture it so clearly in my mind, the way your body would respond to my touch, the way your breath would catch as I undress you, as I explore every hidden talent you’ve been keeping from the world.

At the risk of being considered vulgar, I will admit I am currently imagining your breasts in my mouth. The erect nipples being softly licked by my tongue. Feeling you relax and slowly arch your back as my hands wrap around you. Pulling you closer to me, so that I may slide ever more of your breasts in my mouth. I’m not gentle either. My hands never stop roaming all over you – your back, your ass, your sides. It’s not just about the nipples though, as you well know.

That feels fine, that feels nice, but it can be very powerful, too much at times. You also prefer to be grabbed. To feel my large rough hands firmly gripping them, squeezing them. Playing with them, making them mine. You don’t mind, not even a little. You need to feel possessed, owned. You want to be objectified at times, and you feel very desired. My hands squeeze as you lean your head back and moan, fingers sliding thru my hair.

You’ll close your eyes, and in that moment, everything else will fade away. All the worries, all the stress, the constant thoughts that weigh you down—they’ll melt, slipping into the background until they’re nothing but a distant memory. Your mind will finally be quiet, your only thoughts belonging to the here and now, with me.

I know how much tension you carry, in your shoulders, in your back. You feel it every day, that ache, that tightness that never really goes away. But with me, it will. The tension, the pain, it will all dissolve, forgotten the moment I touch you. You’ll feel lighter, like a weight has been lifted, as if you’re free for the first time in what feels like forever. And that’s when it will happen—something deep inside you will stir. The longings you’ve kept buried, the desires you’ve pushed aside, they’ll wake up, bringing your senses to a sharpness you haven’t felt in a long, long time.

Every touch, every brush of skin, will feel electric. The texture of my fingertips against your body, the warmth of my breath near your ear—it will all be magnified. Every sensation heightened, amplified until it’s all you can focus on. You’ll feel warm, your skin flush as the heat rises inside you, your cheeks burning with a blush you won’t be able to hide. Your mouth will go dry, and your breath will catch in your throat, as though you’re trying to hold back something you can’t quite name.

Your breathing will slow, deepening with every passing second, becoming heavier, more labored as you lose yourself in the moment. And then, without even realizing it, you’ll start to lean into me. You’ll crave the contact, desire more and more with every passing heartbeat. Each touch will leave you wanting more, and you’ll find yourself leaning in, your body instinctively seeking out mine, needing the connection, needing me.

You’ll feel it, won’t you? The pull, the deep, undeniable urge to let go completely, to surrender to the moment, to the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long. And in that space, there will be nothing but you and me. Every care, every thought, every worry will be gone, replaced by something far more primal, far more powerful.

Your clothes, they feel wrong. You suddenly realize you’d be much more comfortable if they were lying crumpled on the floor. You shed your shirt, your bra, your pants. Your panties you leave on for the moment, because they’re cute. You feel your sexiest with this pair, the thong perfectly bisecting your ass and helping to enhance the view. You’ll feel me slowly sliding your breasts from my hands and my mouth, warm wet lips slowly kissing their way down between your thighs.

You’ll feel my hands sliding under the elastic waist band before ripping outwards, tearing them off in one powerful rip. You gasp, impressed at this rough and primal display and eagerly spreading your legs. You want me, you want to have me inside you – though that’s not exactly what I have planned just yet. My mouth kisses it’s way down to your clit, tongue softly and slowly swirling around your clit. You gasp, feeling the pleasure, and groaning as you sink back down into the bed and feel instantly relaxed. Your hips buck and thrust into my face, fingers gripping my hair and desperately trying to pull my face deeper into you. You’re wet, by god you’re soaked.

I can tell. I can tell you’ve been neglected, and I don’t just mean recently. It’s been happening for a while, hasn’t it? Too often, men don’t care enough to ask what you want. They don’t really pay attention to your needs, your desires. Sure, they talk a big game, make all the right promises, but you’ve learned that most of them are just saying whatever they need to say to get you into the condition you’re in right now. To get what they want.

But when it comes to actually following through? They never do, do they? They get what they want and then… nothing. No care, no effort. They leave you hanging, unfulfilled, forgotten. And that’s how you can always tell they don’t really value you, not in the way you deserve. It’s in the way they don’t put in the effort, the way they expect, demand, and assume. As if they’re entitled to you, to your body, to your time. As if it’s their right to take, without ever earning it.

But it doesn’t work that way, does it? You are worth more than that. Your true talents, your desires, your experiences—they’re not just handed over. They have to be earned. And right now, that’s exactly what’s happening. Right now, you’re being rewarded for the patience, for waiting for someone who knows how to really take their time with you.

I can feel it—you can feel it. That familiar tingling, building through your whole body, spreading out, reaching every part of you. It’s like a current, isn’t it? The way it surges, gaining strength, making you think you’re on the verge of release. You can’t help it. You cry out, desperate, thinking it’s going to happen, that you’re finally going to reach that peak. But then… no. I slow down, I ease you off, not letting you get there just yet.

You beg. You whimper. I know it’s driving you crazy, making you want it more, but that’s the point, isn’t it? I’m taking my time with you, being thorough, making sure you feel everything. Making sure every touch, every sensation, every second is etched into your memory. Because this isn’t about rushing to the end. This is about you. About making sure you know, deep down, that your pleasure is what matters most.

You deserve that. You deserve someone who takes their time, who cares enough to make sure you’re not just a means to an end, but the center of it all. And when you finally get there—when I let you get there—you’ll know just how important you are.

You can’t stand it, can you? The way your body shakes, the way every nerve feels like it’s on fire. I see it in your eyes, in the way your chest rises and falls, your breath coming in ragged gasps. And I know. I know exactly what I’m doing to you. I can see the effect I’m having, how close you are to the edge, teetering on the brink of release, and finally, I smile. I relent. I permit you to go over.

And when you do, it’s like a dam bursting—nuclear, really. You shake, your body wracked with sensation, your voice escaping in screams you can’t contain. It’s raw, it’s powerful, and I know you haven’t felt anything like this in years. It’s been far too long since you’ve felt this alive, this wanted. But I don’t stop there. I won’t stop there. Oh, I slow, just enough to let you breathe, because I know how sensitive you are now.

I know every inch of you is tingling, almost unbearable in its sensitivity, and yet… you can’t help but crave more. I take my time, holding you down, keeping you with me, knowing just how overwhelming it all is. You can barely take it, can barely process the sensations running through your body, but I guide you through it. Slowly. Methodically. And in time, you begin to relax again, sinking into the rhythm, riding that wave over and over. You crash down, then rise up again, each time a little different, each time more intense. Until you lose count of how many times you’ve surrendered to it, lost in the pleasure, completely undone.

This moment, this limited slip of time, has given you more than the last few years combined. You’re flushed now, skin glowing, your body drenched in endorphins, and above all, gratitude. You look at me, and I see it in your eyes—that realization, that recognition that you’ve been seen tonight, that someone has found you desirable, worthy.

And I can tell—you’re thinking about how you’re going to repay this favor. How you’re going to show me that gratitude, in your own special way. Because now you know what it’s like to be seen, to be cared for, and you want to return that feeling. You want me to know what it’s like to be desired the way I’ve made you feel.

I can see it in the way you look at me, in the quiet promise in your eyes. You’re not done yet. You’ve got something very special in mind, something you’ve been saving for the right moment, for the right person. And I know, whatever you’re planning, it’s going to be unforgettable. Because this isn’t just about you anymore—it’s about us. And you’re ready to show me just how grateful you really are.