You read these words now, wanting me. Wanting my hands to touch you. You want my arms to wrap themselves around your narrow waist and pull you close to my body. You want the warmth, to make you feel safe. You miss this. You...need this. Need it. You long, for it to come back.
You want in the darkened room within this hotel near the Brandenburg Gate, my mouth, to move closer to your ear. You wait, you want for me to say the words that make you feel the most intense pulsations within your body. You want the words. You hunger, for them to start. To start, and never end.
As my body is pressed close to yours, you wait, your blood pressure rising in anticipation of the words, the hands removing your garments, slowly. Removing them, as my words slowly strip your mind. As my tongue extends outward, touching your flesh. The warmth, of my tongue enters your ear.
The tip, of the tongue, pushes inside, and swirls around. The moistness, the warmth, sends shivers throughout your body. You ache, for what you remember, comes next. My fingers, slender, adept at unbuttoning your white dress blouse.
A blouse that is held tight against your large breasts. Extremely large, breasts. Breasts that are as white as milk. Breasts that I remember well. Breasts that demand attention when on display in public, and they did receive far more than their share. Your breasts, how blessed you are to have been given such a well endowed upper torso.
They feel firm, stout, powerful. They are a magnet. They draw others to them. They draw, many to you. Have drawn, so many, to you over time. You know this, and you display them in various forms of dress to bring so many souls to your feet, to worship you.
But, I am not here to worship. My intent, is to control, to dominate, to make you submit, to overwhelm your cerebral cortex, and make you surrender. All the while your state of subjugation will be masked, and you will have no awareness how you are not dominant in this encounter.
Thereby, making you, by definition my slave. If you have no free will, physically, or...psychologically, you are bound. Bound, restrained, not of your own free will to move about free. Move about physically, or emotionally.
You believe yourself to be superior to me. To be superior to most others. Which, you are. But not here. Not here. Here, I control you. You know this to be true. Your behavior states what your words contrast in content. "Not my slave." Remember? But you are. You are here, reading these words, conjuring in your mind what I write.
You ache to experience in real time, what I write. You want me, behind you. Stripping away your defenses. Speaking softly in your ear. Slowly removing the garments that present to the world your status. Removing the clothing, seducing you. Readying you, for sexual coupling.
You ache, and suffer, throughout, as the process of undressing you, unfolds. The blouse gives way, as I pull it off your slender, firm arms. It falls to the floor, next to the dark black, very fashionable and quite expensive high heels.
Your bra comes next. It's unbuttoned, and it falls away, allowing your breasts freedom, but for a moment. Your long blonde hair, falls over them. "You like my hands to grip these tits, don't you?" You moan, in response. It feels good, to have the hands of another, caress lovingly, with the utmost of devotion these enormous tits. These tits, that give you, such power, over so many others.
They feel so good. I recall vividly, the first time that I saw them unrestricted by material. Alive, in their natural, unbound, free state. Suspended naturally, their youth, magnificent to behold in person. Their power over me, making me at that time, your subject, your slave. But not now. I, now know, the secret of seduction. To your, seduction.
"You need me, don't you?" My fingers swirl slowly over your exposed flesh. Softly, touching. The fingertips, lightly brushing sensitive areas of your body. Down below, silently there is movement. Your vaginal cavity is beginning to come alive. It's no longer dormant. You are being stimulated, and you find yourself wet.
Wet, moist, aching, wanting. As you were then, you are now. As you read this, you want me. You want me to do, as I am writing. You currently lie, with another. He, will have to suffice in my stead. Would it be beneath me to say, that you are with the "second string quarterback?" Hmmm? Perhaps?
Anyway, the viscosity of the juices pouring forth, running between your legs is noteworthy. There is a lot going on down there. You know this and I sense it. I know that you run wild. That once you are stimulated, your body comes alive. Yes, your orgasm can come, merely by words.
You revealed that to me. Perhaps, that was something that you should have retained as a secret. Allowing me to know, enables me to exploit thi, and make you hunger. It gives me the power to take control of you.
"Your body, is extremely desirable, baby. I, am overwhelmed by your slender, waif like frame, your essence." While I speak my hands move around. My arm clutches your breasts allowing one hand to unbutton your skirt, and it falls to the floor. Your flesh is now, bare of clothing.
Naked, wanting me. Hungering for my hands to caress, my tongue to kiss and lick, my words to continue. "You look so beautiful. Really, I am overwhelmed by all that you are. Do you know, how you affect me? How your beauty makes me lose sight of everything."
"Do you want me? Do you need to be inside me?" "Yes. I need to be inside you now, as then. I need to mount you. Or, would you like to be on top, as you were the last time we were together?" "I want to be on top."
"Maybe...I will think about it." Yes, I will give it thought. But, as I stated earlier, I am in control. I, dominate this encounter. You submit to me." "Yes...." "You excite me with the black bra, black skirt, the black high heels, and the white blouse.
It was your signature look, and it really made me hunger for your naked flesh. You drove me wild with passion, when we went out in public." "Touch me, down there." "Touch you, down there. Is that what you want, baby? Hmmm?"
