Tracysub - Kneeling Is Feeling

If She Doesn’t Feel You For Days, You’re Doing It Wrong

I’m not talking just about the fucking and the sexy times and the scenes. I don’t just mean the slaps and pulls, bites and pinches, belts and ropes, licks and thrusts. Oh, the licks and thrusts. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh, yes! I am talking about all of the above, and so much more. I am talking about anything and everything you do. If you’re doing it without passion, if you are going through the motions, you’re doing it wrong. She’ll know it. Everyone around you will know it. Do you kiss her when you walk in the door? Do you lean over and plant a peck on her cheek as you toss aside your coat? Stop that shit. Stop it now. If you’re going to kiss her, grab her by the back of her hair, lick your way up her throat, and then kiss her like you’re trying to save her fucking life. Even if that entire exchange lasts only 10 seconds because you’re in a rush to hop in the shower and get to wherever the hell your ass needs to be next. She’ll feel that for days. Not everyone is good at putting pretty words down on a piece of paper. I get it. Go ahead and buy her a Hallmark card that says everything you feel about her in your heart. But fucking write something personal in it or go home empty-handed. Tell her about the last time she took your breath away. Tell her what you want to do to her the next time you’re alone. Tell her something that can only come from you because she’s yours. Tell her what you think of when you feel her hair in your hand or smell her shampoo. Tell her your fucking dick twitches when she calls you in the middle of the day and laughs into the phone. She’ll feel that for days. Don’t roll over when you get into bed. Grab her hip and pull her into you. Burrow your nose into her neck. It doesn’t matter if all you do after is go to sleep. Do it because she’s the last goddamn thing you want to feel as you drift off at the end of the night. Do it because you want her in your dreams. She’ll feel that for days. Don’t spank her because she asked for it. Spank her because holy shit, that ass. Don’t eat her pussy because that’s what gets her good and ready. Eat her pussy because it’s the only thing that will cure the cancer eating away at your soul. Whisper into her ear every dirty fucking thing about her that makes you crazy. Up your game a bit. Don’t ask her, “Is this what you want? Whose pussy is this?” Fuck. That. Lean over and fucking TELL her that pussy is yours. Because you’ve never felt pussy so good.
Because you’ll never stop wanting it.
Because all day you can’t wait to get in it. She’ll feel that for days. Long after the sun rises and the soreness wears off and the bruises fade, she’ll still feel you. She’ll feel you sinking into the cracks in her soul and hear the echoes of every whisper as it bounces around her heart. She’ll call you in the middle of the day and laugh that laugh that makes your dick twitch, but what you won’t see on the other end is her blushing and squirming in her seat because she can feel you. Whatever IT is, if you do it like you fucking mean it, like you cannot take another breath without doing it, she’ll know the difference. She’ll feel it forever.

It was always his words that made her wettest

“You’ll understand why storms are named after people.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

Good night and take care 😂🤣 ❤️

I want lava.

Very hard to let yourself go but also very freeing on many levels…the dark side…..embracing your inner darkness allows for the creation of a psychological and spiritual balance, an integrated whole - whereas denying it creates chaos and disharmony.

I am as he wishes me to be, Kneeling before him, my palms up. My trust in him complete.

((TN))

There are few things I crave more than to be kept nearby and to be of use while you work.  To take some of the stress away, to make your day a little less dull, a little more pleasant.  And what could do that more than the sound of my feet lightly padding across the floor, fetching your tea, whispering a word or two so as to not distract.  Maybe a light brush of your arm before I slip back under your desk till you need me.  

This is not a sexual activity.  It’s not about orgasms or wetness, it’s not about keeping me frustrated and needy.  It’s not about me at all.  It’s about serving, it’s about being where you want me, being what you want, it’s about you.  I won’t wonder when you’ll let me cum or when you’ll want to fuck me.  In that moment, I will have and be everything I could possibly need.  Whether I’m sitting in silence, casually forgotten, listening to you type, backspace, sigh, type again in the calm rhythm of a man deep in thought, or on my knees, a quiet, reverent mouth serving your cock as you discuss your latest business deal on the phone.  

In those moments, I will be nothing more than a silent serving girl.  A silent serving girl in unimaginable bliss. 

of course