You, my beautiful boy, are indeed my most favorite read. I take you to bed with me each night, and as I hunker deep beneath the covers, I reach for you as one would reach for a favorite bedside book, knowing that with every page turned…..or in my case, every touch administered…..a new adventure unfolds. Like a good book, you delight me with retorts that are both unpredictable and varied. Your responses to the things I do to you are surprising at times, and yet I delight in them. More often than not, I hurt you in some way that evokes deep and muffled sounds of both pain and pleasure, and I am pleasantly reminded of how much I don’t always expect that.
It is not every night that I intend to administer pain to you, my pup. But I have learned from you that pain is not punishment. Or, if it is, it is the sweetest of tortures for you. Your swollen cock does not lie. Your whimpers can be musical. Your head softly thrashing back and forth on the pile of pillows tells me you want more, not less.
You continue to interest me. You continue to surprise me. Last night, when I was pinching the tip of your cock between my two fingernails, and I felt your body tighten as you breathed sharply, I also heard your deep, guttural sounds of pleasure. The noises you make are layered. I hear the first response of pain…..light, panting and almost fast paced to the point where you lose control of it, but behind it, I hear a different musical backdrop too….a deeper sound, a darker sound, a steady, baritone groaning that keeps you on course, and keeps you connected to me.
You beg for mercy, knowing you won’t get it. You beg harder for leniency, but I question if you really want that. I hurt you a bit harder and I listen more intently. I hear you wrestling for control, knowing I expect this from you. I feel your body and mind do a thousand different things, and yet that cock….that big, lovely cock…..does only one thing; it continues to swell and press against me, seeming to know that it lays at the door of the lionesses’ door.
You are my adventure. You are my page turner. Sometimes I will leave you untouched as I lose myself in the covers, but more often than not, I will reach for you, hungry for a few of your pages, sleepily and happily discarding you as sleep overcomes me. You are the book beneath my covers. You are my mystery, my adventure, my love story and all of the dramatic events I could want. You are my all time best seller.