Cunnilingus recipient wanted

Some years ago, there was a man – I believe I wrote about him, but can’t now find whatever I wrote in the overwhelming morass of words here. This man posted ads regularly on Craigslist, offering his hands to willing women. He offered “sensual massages,” happy endings of the sort I and so many men have been privileged and cursed to enjoy. And he offered them for free.

My sexual tastes are fairly narrow: they tend to revolve around a little carousel of variety. One day, I want to tie a woman up and devour her; another, to dress her up and direct her; the next, to have her recruit a third for us; and then, to go to a sex party together.

Today? Today what I want is that first item: I want to strip you nude…

… (or maybe not nude – maybe to tear away just enough to grant me access to your cunt, or maybe, maybe, to leave your top clothed and your bottom half bare – I don’t know)…

Maybe, if you’re game, if you trust me, to tie you up, to bind your wrists together over your head, or to your ankles, or to cinch your ankles to your thighs, severely restraining your range of movement.

Maybe, if you’re game, if you trust me, to blindfold you. To pump loud music into your ears.

And regardless – whether or not you’re comfortable with that degree of surrender – I want, then, to overwhelm you with my hunger for you, with my lips, my tongue, my fingers, my hands, my wrists, my palms. To press your thighs open wide enough to fit my head between them, to grip them tight as they squeeze my ears between them. To learn your tastes, your smells, your movements.

Are you sensitive? Do you need just the tiniest, lightest flicker of a tickling pressure? Or are you hungrier? Do you crave firm, constant pressure? Do you want a finger? Two? Four? Deep inside you? Pressing up against your G-spot? Sliding in and out? Rhythmically? More irregularly? Pounding deep inside you? Hovering near your entrance?

Do you want my hand reaching up to choke you? A little? A lot?

[I tried to find a good image of this happening. I found… nothing. I did, though, find a lot of hotness, which I share with you here….]

Caressing? Or gripping? Your breasts? Pinching, squeezing your nipples?

Will I leave your thighs bruised by my hands? Scraped by my beard? Marked by my teeth?

[Here too, I looked and looked, but found nothing good….]

I will surely have my ideas with respect to all these questions, ideas which will be informed by some combination of the limits and boundaries you establish before we start and my intuitive sense of the workings of your body, of your mind, of your clit, of your cunt.

Will you come? Once? Twice? Twelve times? Fifty times?

Will you have to stop me with a safeword? Or will you wear me out with your stamina? (I’m told there’s a first time for everything, and I’m open to that possibility, unlikely though it may seem.)

Regardless: today, I seek to fill this particular position. The only requirements? Space between your thighs for my hungry mouth.

Years ago, I wrote of my policy – long since abandoned – of offering my cock to any interested cocksucker. Today, my appetites lead me to postulate a structurally similar, but inverse, policy: if you’re willing to open your pretty thighs for me? Then I. Will. Devour. You.

You may submit your application in one or both of three forms:

1) A single photo of your thighs open wide, cunt splayed before me, fully clothed, in jeans, leggings, tights, pantyhose, etc. This photo should not include any flesh.

2) A single photo of your smiling face, taken just for me, as you ponder this possibility.

3) A short paragraph describing your relationship to receiving oral sex.

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