Denomination of Domination - The Write Way

I can still hear your sweet tone reading through my words. Your voice quivering as your mind projects images to the rear of your retinas. A clearing of the throat as all those projected images become a victim to summation in your mind. Lightness in head once the body has been tempted enough by the mind. The signs are all detectable to one observant enough.

To state a fact, in terms of naivety and mind games, I don’t play to that. I ignore it. Treating others as wishing to be treated oneself, a reflection of what you think you may be doing, but an image of me knowing this. Regardless to the point, the plots are dotted ahead, and I will continue to mark the line.

I ensure that a hunger is built within you. It’s not what I say; it’s how I say it. Provocatively, suggestively, honestly and the heart I wear on my sleeve also coming into effect, a magnetism that cannot be repelled. The chemistry is too rich in electrical-like currents which surge through the air, the hairs on the back of your neck stand to end, and the ones on your arm, also follow suit.

You ask me how I dominate; I cannot answer as I have no answer myself. To now look back, I guess my domination is that of your orgasm and every last little thing that your mind, body and soul require to achieve such status. Once I know these, your body will become an object of craft, my hands to shape and mould you to deny and provide orgasms, over and over again. My satisfaction arising from the increase, extinguish and re-ignition of yours.

I had a feeling you were a bit of a firecracker. I'm a bright spark. You will never extinguish me. Can you light my dark and starry skies? Repeatedly? I know you can, because I will provide you a reason to. I desire to satisfy your needs, every last single one. And I will find ones that you have not yet found. An exploration I will conquer, all for your benefit, all for my benefit.

Once I am comfortable enough from being given such right to your mind and body, I will use you as an object of my pleasure, thus allowing you an opportunity to experience what I hold as being sacred to me. I will not restrain myself. I will succumb to temptation. To provide you, in return, with what draws you to me. The need to satisfy me. The tables have turned, and you will probably be bent over it, or a knee well suited for your midriff.

A bunched skirt, a pair of panties around one ankle, a wriggling of the hips, an arching of the back, a pinch of the nipples, a dash of my naughtiness, a slight trickling of fluid on your inner thigh. A raised hand showing an open palm striking down in a swift calculated motion. The sounds are to die for. Moans escape and the clap of flesh on flesh ringing through both of our pairs of ears. Extra fluid escapes. Too tempting to not consume it and taste. You will be my pillow as I allow you to stand. My knees press firmly against the floor. I look up into your eyes and wink cheekily. You know this is part of what you have been waiting for.

All doubts cast in, and by, your mind are eradicated. You cannot remember the last 10 minutes properly. You have immersed yourself in me, and I have observed this occurring.

I like the sound of you. I cannot wait to hear the symphony of your orgasm. I am the conductor, an orchestra to repeatedly perform an encore. To direct you, and control you will give me a sounder view......