Heart of Darkness
I was looking at couples profiles of people who "swing" and came across a profile of a couple where the very sexy little woman, 5'1" but with substantial hips and ass and pictures in tall red pumps, close to my age, expressed a need for " erotic, wet, wild, passionate sex". The title of the profile said. "Can you Tame the b**st!"
This was my reply.
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I don't understand why someone would want to tame it. Much better to train it than tame it. Nobody should want to tame a wild thing of such beauty and turn it into a pet. Much better to find it wild, come at it with the whip and a chair teasing, inflaming and arousing the b**st until it's thighs are soaked and then I'd be ready to take it on for what it is in its full glory.
Imagine this.
I've circled the wild thing several times, admiring its incredible beauty. I come in, retreat. Jab, withdraw. I finally find an opening and take the her by surprise. I take wild thing down to its knees, push it down before me, mount it, drive in and fuck the little pretty where I know it's hot and wet and ready until it moans and gushes, and raises up it's glorious ass. It drenches the the big hard throbbing instrument that is prodding hard and deep down in her. There are little hurts at the bottom of some thrusts that take her breath away. She soaks it with her shameless lust, she shrieks and cries. The womanly ass pushes back to meet the instrument that has forced this submission. The wild thing's perfect hot wetness gushes again, pulses, pouring, squeezing, clutching, lips pulling, sucking, insisting until I, the trainer, hold her head down, bite the shoulder next to the back of her neck, takes her by the hair with one hand, covers her screaming mouth with the other pounding and pounding away at her until at long last he gives a long loud roar, over and over, like the big lions they hear at night and pumps and pumps until he knows b**st within both the b**sts is slayed.
Now the wild thing lays purring underneath me, the trainer of wild things. She is still squeezing at the prod until its milked, and it finally the wild thing feels the hardness go and it slowly, achingly slowly slides out of her. The feeling is exquisite. A calm thrill floods warmth through her whole being. Her fingertips tingle. She notices her ass feels warm. She notes every little sensation, even the lingering little hurts. She's calm, her mind in twilight not quite certain how this happened to her. But she knows why, and is certain in will again. She been subdued, but not broken. She knows there is more to be taken.
The wild thing will feed, and rest, and wait in the tall grass. She will rise again.
----
love the tone of the profile, love the pics and the dimensions of the 5'1" woman of substance, ass, and hips to hold that has needs that call apparently call for a man that first of all has an uncommon imagination.
i do believe i have the goods.
any questions?
This was my reply.
--------------------
I don't understand why someone would want to tame it. Much better to train it than tame it. Nobody should want to tame a wild thing of such beauty and turn it into a pet. Much better to find it wild, come at it with the whip and a chair teasing, inflaming and arousing the b**st until it's thighs are soaked and then I'd be ready to take it on for what it is in its full glory.
Imagine this.
I've circled the wild thing several times, admiring its incredible beauty. I come in, retreat. Jab, withdraw. I finally find an opening and take the her by surprise. I take wild thing down to its knees, push it down before me, mount it, drive in and fuck the little pretty where I know it's hot and wet and ready until it moans and gushes, and raises up it's glorious ass. It drenches the the big hard throbbing instrument that is prodding hard and deep down in her. There are little hurts at the bottom of some thrusts that take her breath away. She soaks it with her shameless lust, she shrieks and cries. The womanly ass pushes back to meet the instrument that has forced this submission. The wild thing's perfect hot wetness gushes again, pulses, pouring, squeezing, clutching, lips pulling, sucking, insisting until I, the trainer, hold her head down, bite the shoulder next to the back of her neck, takes her by the hair with one hand, covers her screaming mouth with the other pounding and pounding away at her until at long last he gives a long loud roar, over and over, like the big lions they hear at night and pumps and pumps until he knows b**st within both the b**sts is slayed.
Now the wild thing lays purring underneath me, the trainer of wild things. She is still squeezing at the prod until its milked, and it finally the wild thing feels the hardness go and it slowly, achingly slowly slides out of her. The feeling is exquisite. A calm thrill floods warmth through her whole being. Her fingertips tingle. She notices her ass feels warm. She notes every little sensation, even the lingering little hurts. She's calm, her mind in twilight not quite certain how this happened to her. But she knows why, and is certain in will again. She been subdued, but not broken. She knows there is more to be taken.
The wild thing will feed, and rest, and wait in the tall grass. She will rise again.
----
love the tone of the profile, love the pics and the dimensions of the 5'1" woman of substance, ass, and hips to hold that has needs that call apparently call for a man that first of all has an uncommon imagination.
i do believe i have the goods.
any questions?
9 वर्षो पूर्व