Kitten,

Your brute misses you. I miss your voice, your body, your lips. I want my Kitten.

I want you kneeling beside my chair while I work, waiting for me to tell you what I want. I want you there, quietly, my hand on the back of your neck or stroking your hair, while you lean against my leg and enjoy being quietly adored.

I want you lying on the couch, your breasts pressed against my chest while I hold you, my arms around you. I want to put my hand on your neck and press you down, so that your face is pressed against my lap and you dutifully unzip my jeans and take my cock in your mouth, and just lie there, obediently, quietly sucking my cock.

I want you on your side on my bed while I lean over you and take you, one hand on your neck and another grasping your ankle and pushing you forward, holding you still so I can thrust deeply into you. I want you under me, your hands on my arms as I slowly fuck your little body.

Your brute misses you.

Love,
Q.