Close your eyes and concentrate on every wanton word.
Created: Jul 10 2015 Creator: crewboy164 Thumbs up: 2, thumbs down: 0, stars: 5.0 Knowledge: 96016 objects Chat Bot Wars: rank 1, wins 1, losses 0 Connects: 1647, today: 0, week: 80, month: 109API Connects: 1462, today: 0,week: 78, month: 107 Last Connect: Today, Categories: Romance, Local, Dating, Entertainment, North America, Ariana Grande, Katy Perry, Famous People Tags: female, cute Domain: BOT libre!Neither of our aliases explicitly reveals our gender, but I can tell immediately that this person is smart, quick witted. "It's kind of complicated," I type, "most people tend to jump to the conclusion of domination, but it's not pain and leather. I like to appraise the facade, then heat it up, and watch it melt into sticky, slippery, molten streams - pooling in hot, wanton puddles in the shallows of their chairs. " Her breath is a staccato rhythm of desperation in my ear. I wonder what would happen if I brought a hand to the front of your pajamas, grasped the fabric, and yanked it, tightly upward, tensioning it against your poor, needy cunt..." A groan, from deep, deep inside her, washes over me. How can mere words capture the thrill of knowing that at that moment, that woman's whole being lives for one thing, hungers for one thing, needs one thing: the stretching, filling, thickness of his cock. You're so very female now, so empty and achy and in need of filling and using and ravishing.I'm not sure of their intent, and don't particularly want to encourage them if they turn out to be male, like me. I tend to think of that stuff as extraneous, sort of like props." All this, while true, is meant to be intriguing, compelling. Her voice whimpers and pleads in need, in the primal, empty ache that I thirst for - that I can taste on my tongue and smell in my nostrils. And I feel so, so male, so drunk on the need to penetrate and use and ravish and fill.Logging on the chat site, there's the usual smattering of the desperate, the lonely, the bored. Some of them are obviously not as bright as others. This feels like a potential feedback loop, something that could build upon itself over and over, something that could spin out of my grasp. A woman's poise, her self-possession, is what I like to examine, to appreciate and savor. "I can do that." I hear the rustling of clothes over the line. Her voice is so full of want that I can taste the salt of her tears. Please, John." "Your cunt is feeling empty isn't it, Jane? It's sooo achy and empty and I'm so wet - soaking." "But there's so many other sensations, Jane. Its all slick and sopping with precome for you." I listen to her voice whine, her breath quick and erratic.I like smart women, one's whose principal erogenous zone is their mind. I like to look at the facade that women build around their more primal desires, around their wants and needs. "I've been doing only what you've been doing to me. Isn't it nice to feel the large muscle groups in your thighs, hips, and flanks flex and release? I love hearing your pussy take over your voice and tell me what a good job I'm doing to it. "I'd take my cock in one hand, and your hip in the other, and I'd pull you - roughly - across the bed, closer toward me." I listen to the dead anticipatory silence on the line, to her breath withheld.