Kitten,

This most recent visit, because we didn’t make love, I felt greedy and demanding — selfish, even.

I don’t mind. I told you at the beginning that I was feeling aggressive and demanding, and that I was going to tie you up, fuck your throat and your ass, and generally take advantage of you. I enjoyed it, every moment of it, enjoyed it when you struggled to get my cock in your throat, enjoyed it when you gasped with the pain of it as I thrust slowly into your ass. I liked that you had to work so hard for your orgasms, and that you were sore in so many places when we finished. I wanted all of those things.

But I also wanted, and want now, to make love with you. Because, as much as I enjoy all the other stuff we do — and nothing in the world, really, is better than when you dropping to your knees, when I say “kneel, Kitten,” and taking my cock in your mouth — as much as I enjoy it all, crushing you beneath me as I slowly drive my cock deep into your pussy is still unique, and still something I need. I need to hear you moan. I need to hear you moved so much that all you can say is “I love you” as I thrust my cock hard into you. I need to have you close to coming, close to crying out, as you surrender to that.

I need that. I want it, and I need it, and soon.

Next time, Kitten, whatever else we do, we’re going to make love. We’ll do it slow, and fast, and deep, and hard, and tenderly: we’ll do all sorts of things, always with your little body beneath mine, my hands holding you, confining you, pulling you to me or pushing you down into the bed. I’ll kiss you, I’ll take your nipples hard between my lips, I’ll reach behind you and grab your ass and lift you up to me, I’ll grasp your throat and turn your head to the side as I press my lips against your neck. But, always, my cock will be in you, opening you, spreading you, filling you. Pounding into you.

I want that. I want you.

Love,
Sir