The power she holds over me is inexplicable. Her eyes are steel blue. Her hair, blonde. She’s a shameless flirt. I see it all the time. It’s almost pathological, her flirtiness – hard for me to feel special to her.
But I can see that, just as she has a power over me – just as she can, with just a few words, make my cock rock hard; just as she can, with a text, have my full attention; just as she can, with a breath, a sigh, a spoken word, make the rest of my world recede – I have a power over her.
I can make her nipples hard without even touching them, her cunt moist without pressing my fingers into it. I can make her stomach churn with nerves just by sending a few choice words.
We make a nice pair.
I have learned some things about her. I have learned how shapely her breasts are. I have learned that she likes her breasts and her face more than she likes her ass. (Is she self-conscious about her ass? I don’t care. I want it.)
I have learned that she trusts me.
And I know what she sounds like when she cums. I want you to know, too….