It gets them every time. At least those that have been in my presence. Walking behind me. Gingerly; awkward in their steps; feeling off balanced as my hand is wrapped around their cock and towing them behind me. Always amazed that they willingly follow along. Being pulled by their manhood. Feeling vulnerable, overtaken and directed. Along with loving the feeling of being used, desired and objectified.
Come with me pet. I have plans for you and this cock of yours that truly belongs to me. Doesn't it pet? Belong to me? To tease, arouse, deny....all for my pleasure.
Stop talking and come with me.
Don't back up on me pet. I'm just warming up.....
This has reminded me of two things from the the days when I was a shy, awkward adolescent.
ReplyDeleteFirstly, being led in the dance by my ballroom dancing teacher as she taught me the man's steps. Little did she realise the seed she was implanting.
Secondly being coached by my drama teacher at about the same time. A slim, frail lady, but surprisingly strong when she took you and forced your body into the exact pose and gesture that was required for the part. Of course I fell hopelessly in love with her and what she represented, without realising what it was. These dreams incubated in the dark for over fifty years.
I had forgotten about their origins until I saw this piece. Odd that. A Proustian moment.
Good to hear from you! Amazing what memories images can tap into! Lovely!
Delete~ Vista