When Can I Tell You This?

God, I wish you were here. I wish you’d fuck me. I want you to curl your fingers around my throat. Squeeze it possessively. Bring my ear to your mouth only to hiss something filthy. I want you to hurt me. To hurt me so I scream in need. So I climb over the pain threshold only to hit that pure pure bliss. I want you to see me cum. I have a vibrator, you know? I want you to hold it at my clit mercilessly until I cum enough times for your satisfaction. And then I want you to handle me, place me wherever and however you want. I’ll be struggling, mind you. But you’re stronger then me. You’ll force my legs open for you. You’ll force your way in, knowing that that’s exactly what I want.

I want bruises on my body. I want you to leave me marked and aching for the days to come. I want just a dark look from your eyes to inspire fear - and heat - in me. I want you to whip my ass till it’s, as they say, cherry red. Guess what? If you did that and then plunged your fingers in my pussy, those fingers would drown. That’s what I want. I want you to hurt me. But I still want to feel safe in your hands. I want consensual non-consent.

I came at least five times today to that fantasy.