For My Bad Boy

Just a little short for my bad boy:

I’m in love a bad boy.  A guy with a career and a hustle on the side.  A guy who’s a little rough around the edges.  A man with a cold demeanor that only I could melt.  A guy who loves me and yet I could never fully tame.

And I don’t want to tame.  I don’t want to detract from the raw sexiness he exudes from his every pore.  It’s his confidence.  His cockiness that gets me.  And his strength.  He can pick me up, toss me onto the bed, take control, and make me his slave.

He knows how to please me.  He works hard at it.  From the time he first kisses me to the beginning of hour two, he works.  He kisses me.  Whispers into my ear.   Tells me how sexy he thinks I am.  Nibbles on my neck.  Suckles my nipples, my breasts.  Goes down on me with abandon. Doesn’t let up when the pleasure becomes too intense.  Makes me go down on him.  Makes me gag and my eyes water.

After the first hour, sweat begins to drip from his forehead and land on my ass.   He smacks the sweat off my ass as he does his best doggy style.  He wants to make me tap out.  Tell him I’ve had enough.  But I never will.  I can’t get enough.  Instead, I beg for more.

And that’s why I’m in love with my bad boy.  That’s why I’ve done what I can to make him mine.