Man, Woman


There are many high integrity men in her life.  Truly.

The manosphere she walks through holds males with the same primal intentions,  but she draws the most honourable, chivalrous ferocity out of them.

Why do they begin by giving more heart than she asked them to give,  by assuming an exclusivity beyond what she lives?

Her men look into her eyes and adore her loving ways,  the laughter she brings kicking and screaming through the night.  They crave her adoration, her validation.  Each release is followed by silence, then the asking her to come again, at the start of another escape from the monotony of a passion-less dawn.

They do not require much.  They only need and simply want her attentions, her time, her walk, her company, mostly her adoration, and some: her ass.

And generously, they keep feeding her mouth, filling her person with shaking gratitude for those moments of utter abandon and then they keep returning, hungry and kind,  making her beg them for more of what she never wanted, this emotional connection to the human animal they hide between her legs while each is is tenderly tying the threads of desire and strands of deep trust to the red of her beating heart.


 When someone tells you his truth, hear him.


#for Reticent Mental Property. Image courtesy of the web.

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