In Sync, not NSYNC the boy band, though I did do sound for them back in the day.
There are days when I want to own her just as much as she wants to be owned. To take control and possession. This is one of those days and I don’t think she is even aware. She is sitting next to me browsing the web unknowing that I want to do bad things to her. Grab her by the hair and kiss her until she moans. Drag her to the sofa and tear her clothes off, all the while telling that she is my slut, my hole, mine.
It is an urge that strikes me often. The need to show her just what she does to me. The need to express the growling part of my psyche that she sets aflame.
I’m going to pause here for a moment while we go get petrol (don’t I sound all Brit?) and pickup the StepD.
…and we’re back, the funny thing about that trip is that while we were waiting in the car Molly couldn’t keep her hands off my cock (enclosed in my button fly jeans, sheesh you people), and had a (mostly) monologue conversation about how much she wanted, cock, cum, sex, complete with a musing about if she would enjoy laying on the floor while I came on her, and that she has decided that she likes it best when I come on her tits, oh and she must find those picture we took when I came on her the other night. Conversations with Molly often go this way, each thought triggers another and another, but today we were unknowingly in sync.
Seems we both might be feeling the urge.