It’s a love hate thing...

I’m fascinated by the alpha male that rises in him as we exchange soft spoken words, and he tells me explicitly of his desires to elicit my cascading waterfall as I drift in & out of his consciousness.

It’s his trademark, and what keeps me anchored to his artistry as he captivates me with his ways.

His tongue trails my flesh whilst the length & width of his throbbing notions render me speechless as I ride the quaking motion of his devotion to pleasure me for hours on end as we sip upon one another.

Each time, is like the first time as he revels in the subtle but evident gasp that escapes my lips.

His rock hard shooting star fills me to the brim as the roughness of his hands collide with the softness of my bare cunt, until I’m gaping and aching for more as he exploits my weakness to serve his inner hedonist.

The urgency of his need becomes evident as I whisper how I want him, to fuck me harder & deeper.

He scribes the letters of his name upon my swollen bud as he watches the way my bare cunt blossoms  for him whilst keeping his eyes firmly affixed to the way he plants his seed, nourishing my bare flesh.

And we find that platform between pleasure & pain as he promises to leave me aching & swollen.

Knowing, that he’ll wash the remnants of him from my body before I make my way home, whilst pondering the way he’ll pleasure my body again, on the way home from work tomorrow evening.

The alpha in him knows how to nurture my neurotic tendencies whilst worshipping  the unpredictable whore in me.