Mindfucking

I dislike the term ‘foreplay’ with its insinuation that penetration is the main event; and as though anything non-penetrative is trivial and frivolous compared to the Real Business of sticking something somewhere.

But even if I were to use that term as shorthand for ‘the introductory stages of sexual activity for the purpose of stimulating arousal’, I’d still have issues with the ‘play’ part. I like my getting-revved-up activity to be serious. Not necessarily solemn, but with focus, intent and dedication. No messing about here, I want to see hunger and need in your eyes. That turns me on, more than any caress.

Yes, I like my clit stroked and my nipples pinched. I welcome your cock in my mouth or your hands cupping my breasts. You can touch, hold, lick, bite; make me gasp, make me squeal – but if you truly want to awaken the wanton in me, start with my mind.

Fuck me with your eyes and your words; collar my attention with your intent and my body will follow the leash of your lust.

Talk to me. Tell me in low, firm tones how much you want me. By the time you’ve finished the first sentence, I’ll be soaking wet and weak at the knees.

Look down into my eyes with uncompromising, commanding gaze. I’ll melt.

Pin me with nothing but an expression of dark speculation. Please

Hold me close and deliver demands in hoarse, hot breath against my ear. Oh yes

That look, those words; promises with a hint of threat, adoration saturated with lust and desire. Show me those and I’m ready – so ready and willing and eager – for you to fuck me.