Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Valentine's Week Memo to my Pet: Tuesday


In the beginning we fucked.

That is, of course, a big part of how we came to be.


And why not? We are both very sexual people, and I still think in some ways we are still discovering with each other just how sexual. 

So it makes sense that we connected through fucking...oh, fine, there were words, of course...words from you that I liked and words from me that you liked...and without those words, there probably would have never been fucking.

But there was fucking.

And it created a connection right away, the second you first discovered me, commenting on what a big boy I was, and me finding out right away that it was no easy task to penetrate that tight pussy of yours, but I did...and we fucked...and you moaned that you had not been fucked like that in years.

I remember everything.

Especially when it comes to fucking you.

No need to get Polyanna on me and blush and say that fucking has little to do with how we came to be; you're no Polyanna for starters which is good, because I don't want Polyanna...I want a girl who loves to fuck.

Glad I have one, and then some.

 Fucking does play a big part of how we came to be and it is a big part of who we are now. Thank god we are so compatible in that area...perfect for each other. I am so glad I can be who I really am with you, and that kinky/sexual side of me is a big part of who I am. 

Of course, our fucking has taken quite the turn since that first fuck in the Holiday Inn Express.

We have fucked in a hot springs in New Mexico, in front of other people in New Orleans, on a patio in Burleigh Heads, in my car in the Wendy's parking lot. I have flogged you, caned you, cut you, choked you, pissed on you, fucked you in the ass, came on your face, gagged you with my cock, slapped your pussy, fisted you, raped you, came in your mouth. I've fucked you while you were on your period, pulling my cock out in the end and having to wipe all of the blood off it, and enjoying that, because it was so primal, and I just loved the dirtiness of it.

I have called you a slut...a whore...fucktoy...I have considered you to be nothing more than an object, a cum depository. I've made you beg for my cock. I have turned you into a soaking wet mess of a whore...which I know these words are doing to you right now.

I have seen you suck the cocks of five different men, have seen five different men...strangers to you...fuck the cunt that I own. I have seen you come from other men, and seen you make other men come. I have proudly shared you, offering up your mouth and cunt to men of my choosing, and I have really enjoyed it....as I know you have...and there will obviously be more of that to come.

It is Valentine's Week, so social norms state that I should be heaping words of love to you...roses are red, yada yada....but how dull is that. 

I didn't want to write about that today.

I wanted to write about fucking you.

Because the best words are produced when the writer knows and loves what he is talking about.

Enjoy the rest of your wet afternoon.

--Your Devoted Sir


  1. That was beautifully said Sir.. I am sure it was sweetness to her ears...

    ownedproperty _c

    1. Thank you. The words were well received...

  2. That was fucking hot, and sure gets to me far more than words romantic in nature

    1. Thank you...she was a dripping mess shortly after reading this....