these hands even as they type.. they burn and hunger
this flesh even as it sits and stares at the screen .. smolders deep within
it burns
a hunger, a thirst..  not for flesh
not for the mind of a woman i can steal and keep and break and shape and mold
they hunger for a hunger itself
they burn for burning
for the deep desire of your body your curves your mind
to belong to be owned to be shaped and molded used and raped and tasted
by a mind a cock a will a heat
a touch
your Owner
your Master
whoever he might be
and i thirst to find that One
that burns so bright
to be owned by this hand
this mind
this soul
this ten inch cock
and so each day i am here, passing by the women who want to fuck or date
meet or plunge into hands that never need let go
and i seek her out
that One that craves to be owned in full
by a creative mind an artist to make of her flesh and sensations
her mind and soul machine
the perfect slut to match and wrap around this cock
the flesh, to melt into these hands
that exist 247
to exchange the power they may posses for the power
of you being their posession


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