Kitten,

I was exhausted last night. But I woke knowing just what I want to do to you. I see it as another of those frozen moments. You’re on your stomach, tied to the cushion, and I’m standing in front of you. I have your hair wrapped tightly around my hand. I’m pulling your head up, and my cock is thrusting into your throat. I’ve been doing this long enough that there are tears running down your face, my cock is wet and dripping from you saliva, and you’re obviously exhausted, surrendered to it.

I’ll write more today, Kitten, but right now I’m hard–very hard–imagining this. Remembering, really.

Love,
Sir