Game - private question, public answer

A whisper of midnight satin, a long backless, sleeveless evening gown with a high slit making every step a promise revealed. My legs, endless in their tease, framed by the slender grace of ankle strap stilettos. Beneath the satin would only be Yves Saint Laurent Black Opium and the anticipation of his touch.
 
A whisper of midnight satin, a long backless, sleeveless evening gown with a high slit making every step a promise revealed. My legs, endless in their tease, framed by the slender grace of ankle strap stilettos. Beneath the satin would only be Yves Saint Laurent Black Opium and the anticipation of his touch.
WOW🔥🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️
 
That would depend upon the nature and the maturity of the relationship. But for a lover, heels abandoned at the door, the dress pooled at my feet, a show of vulnerability and trust. A pause, allowing time for tension to build. Then to sink before him in reverence, lips parted not for words but for an act of devotion that reaffirms our dynamic.
 
Someplace in Europe. I took a river cruise a few years back and absolutely LOVED how quaint and beautiful the small towns in France and Germany were. While I know absolutely nothing about their politics and economy are, just the feeling of relaxed friendliness makes me think I wouldn't have minded being born there.
 
Well it would be using big toys, my husband bought me a large realistic dildo a few years ago and it felt different, I’ve since bought myself an even bigger one and it’s the only time I properly orgasm now 🙈 x
 
This looks fun. I'm in. Ask anything.

And no, I've never sucked cock, I do trim, and lesbian porn is my favorite. 🤣
 
Last edited:
Yes, but darling, I don’t really see it as a fetish; it’s simply the oldest liturgy; the body remembering what modern minds try to forget, that moment when pleasure and purpose collide. It’s the feeling that when he holds you down, he does so not only to take, but to give, to flood you so deeply it quite literally rewrites your cells. I feel ‘chosen’. I confess that I don’t remember a time when it didn’t consume me, even from that first trembling surrender when my innocence was so beautifully gathered. That dizzying moment when biology overrides reason. That’s why that mundance ritual, taken each morning with orange juice is so important to keep my deepest hunger leashed. Logic dissolves when he pins me down and I whisper to him and to myself of the hunger I have for it but that morning routine ensures the only thing growing inside me is the exquisite yearning of how badly I want it to be true. One day…
 
Back
Top