Sir,
I am being your very good & self-controlled girl and going to sleep instead of staying up til the wee hours of the morning talking to Ms. T. Nights I don't talk late with you I need to get more sleep.
I just had to write this to you. You might even have *that* effect on me more than you ever did. It's kind of like a near-death experience, wanting/needing you seems more intense than ever. I can remember how your hands feel on my throat. I can remember wanting, aching for your cock inside me, in my mouth, my pussy. I can picture your hands both places very distinctively. My ass needs your hot hand prints. I crave pain for you. I don't crave the pain, per se, but the look of sadistic pleasure on your face as you hurt me is enough to drive me to the brink of orgasm. I want to take whatever you want to give, Master. I want to present my body to you for your use and abuse and pleasure more than I have ever wanted to before.
As I type this, I'm kneeling in my closet. I can feel my body just craving your touch, your bite, your pinch, your slap. I want every one of my holes filled with your cock and your cum. I want you to feel like you may not even have another orgasm in you for days, because I have helped you cum so good, so many times in me and on me that the satisfaction lasts for days and days.
I feel my breathing getting harder just thinking about your cock buried in my throat, you deciding when I will get air again. You scare me and thrill me and rule my whole universe with your words, your hands, your cock.
Sorry this sounds artsy. I feel like crawling around naked and just begging you to please let me cum. God, sir, I want to cum for you so badly. So so badly. I love hearing you tell me I can cum and when I do, that I'm a good girl. God just typing that has me moaning, wiggling my hips and feeling my pussy clench with need. God, I need you, sir.
I need to cut this off now before I melt my feet and then my carpet. I love you with every inch of me.
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo,
Your nonpoetic slave
I am being your very good & self-controlled girl and going to sleep instead of staying up til the wee hours of the morning talking to Ms. T. Nights I don't talk late with you I need to get more sleep.
I just had to write this to you. You might even have *that* effect on me more than you ever did. It's kind of like a near-death experience, wanting/needing you seems more intense than ever. I can remember how your hands feel on my throat. I can remember wanting, aching for your cock inside me, in my mouth, my pussy. I can picture your hands both places very distinctively. My ass needs your hot hand prints. I crave pain for you. I don't crave the pain, per se, but the look of sadistic pleasure on your face as you hurt me is enough to drive me to the brink of orgasm. I want to take whatever you want to give, Master. I want to present my body to you for your use and abuse and pleasure more than I have ever wanted to before.
As I type this, I'm kneeling in my closet. I can feel my body just craving your touch, your bite, your pinch, your slap. I want every one of my holes filled with your cock and your cum. I want you to feel like you may not even have another orgasm in you for days, because I have helped you cum so good, so many times in me and on me that the satisfaction lasts for days and days.
I feel my breathing getting harder just thinking about your cock buried in my throat, you deciding when I will get air again. You scare me and thrill me and rule my whole universe with your words, your hands, your cock.
Sorry this sounds artsy. I feel like crawling around naked and just begging you to please let me cum. God, sir, I want to cum for you so badly. So so badly. I love hearing you tell me I can cum and when I do, that I'm a good girl. God just typing that has me moaning, wiggling my hips and feeling my pussy clench with need. God, I need you, sir.
I need to cut this off now before I melt my feet and then my carpet. I love you with every inch of me.
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo,
Your nonpoetic slave
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