Kink-22 by M. Florence - NSWF

Baby, I love you and I love how you love me.

Love how your hands explore the curves of my body. Love your lips nuzzling against the side of my neck, just behind my ear. Love feeling connected to you. Love how you make me feel sexy, safe, and cherished. Love how you worship my body, your tender touches traveling softly over my skin.

I can love your gentleness and still desire something…different. Darker. Rougher.

There are things I want you to do to me.

Need you to do to me.

The thought of which makes my body ache.

Makes my mouth dry and my folds wet.

Thoughts that make my cheeks burn in shame and want and need.

My desire isn’t polite, reserved, or quiet.

It is ugly, bold, and demanding.

My desire doesn’t give a shit about my feminist ideology. Or my body politics. Or my progressive upbringing.

My desire fucks with my head.

It is taboo and tawdry.

I have tried to keep it locked up. Hidden.

But unfulfilled longing and yearning have a way of seeping through tightly packaged restraint.

Baby, I need you to take what isn’t given.

I want the chase, the struggle, and the submission. I want you to overpower me. Claim me. Take control. Make me small. Make me scared. Make me beg. Make me cry. Make me cum.

Therein lies the dilemma. The paradox.

I know that you are not the beast I crave. Your hands made for caressing not clawing. You mouth built for kissing not biting.

The more I reassure you, the more consent I grant, the more I make it safe for you to explore this primal space, the less delicious it is for me. The more we negotiate, the more we talk about the dynamics and the repercussions and the rigid criteria, the less it satiates me.

How can you take what is freely given?

Force what has been offered?

Steal what is entrusted?

Claim what is already yours?

Baby, I love you and I love how you love me.

I would also love how you break me. Destroy me. Wreck me. Ruin me.

I love the man but crave the monster.

My kink-22.