What is it about the idea of finding a pretty lady off the street, tossing her into my imaginary van, tearing off her clothes and repeatedly thrusting my hands and cock into her cunt that entices me so?
Let’s assess this rather primal thought.
Okay, so I’m a savage. We all knew that. But does it go deeper?
Its not the act of sex itself that gets me hard, it’s much more.
It’s taking this person, all that she is, all that makes her something — and finding that raw centre she hasn’t managed to hide away properly.
It’s the imagery in my mind – the sights! The sounds! She’s gasping and low short distressed groans escape her lips. It’s the sound of how the fabric that hides her body tears when I rip it off her.
And when her breasts spill out, how will they fall? What are their shape? Is there a freckle or two sprinkled across that pale canvass?
What underwear does she choose? Lace? Silk? Satin? Cotton? What colour? What pattern? If anything. She might go commando, like the cheeky teen needing to be punished.
The crowning thought, I guess, is taking her from her world and bringing her into mine. The person she might’ve saved herself for, the person she’s loyal too – I’m taking that, violating that. Her shaven or trimmed or natural cunt is mine for the taking.
And will I think that? When I lower myself on her? Well I wonder if the shape of her body fits perfectly with my mouth – so that when I eat her out, my mouth is a snug fit for her pussy. Would we be made for each other?
O how I want to drink, like a maddened vampire. Every last drop. Till she’s broken and sore and red. I want to slurp, I want to suck. I want to bite.
So I like the idea of taking a woman and stripping her down to her core. It’s very primal, very caveman-like. But there’s something more there. Maybe it’s pretentious but there’s a sense of longing, belonging and admiration for the beauty of sexuality, sensuality and nakedness.
There’s a curiosity for what lies underneath. And what does that make me? A man? A dominant? Something more?
You see…for anyone reading but scared to write in and say hello, know this: it’s okay to be dark. Because here I am, dark too.
But anyway, that’s my late night darkness.