There is still power in the pussy but there is nothing like power personified in a man. There is nothing like when he has your number - and trust me someone does. Their presence has the power to change your mood instantly on sight! The sound of their voice reverberates through your body as you submit to their will before anything is even asked of you.
You know power?
The toxicity level is dangerously exhilarating. There is no need for pheromones. Their smile alone can melt away your underwear. One hand on the small of your back, the warmth of their breath on your skin and you are ready and willing to be the getaway driver.
Who has your number?
His complexion possess the power of the sun. His smile is as broad as his shoulders. He takes up all of the space in my mind. Constantly I remind myself to breathe. Isn’t it supposed to be involuntary? He is just a man. A man with my number. And when he dials me up, my temperature rises as small beads of perspiration appear on my forehead and I fail to hide my heightened sense of arousal.
"I wanna see you"
Those words are so heavy. You rearrange your schedule to accommodate the request immediately. As the anxiety builds you daydream of the past and the future. The first time, the last time, the next time. He is just a man. With the power to separate your soul from its casing. He is the existential threat to your sanity. How can someone, a mere man, possess such power to invade your thoughts and make a mockery of you and all of your sensibilities. You and all of your education, all of your self-respect and your decency. They have no place when he enters the room. They are nothing and your are left with nothing but a compelling need to subject yourself to his happiness, his desires, and his will.
Answer the phone.
There is an exchange of power waiting. It is phenomenal as he pours into you. Now you possess the power; you are the conductor. He is vulnerable as is eyes begs with intent. As his pulse quickens and as he gives up his dominion. Now the queen has arrived. My neck, my back - no hunni, these lips, my eyes, my touch they seduce and conquer before anything even happens. My body demands to be desired and with every encounter there is a form of worship that takes place in every position. Shall I flex on him? Sir, you may have my number but I run this show. It begins and ends as quickly as I want it to. You explode on my command. I give and I take. Deeper, slower, harder, faster.
All hail the queen!
There is this exchange of power. It makes me giddy with accomplishment. He wields it and I harness it. I conquer it to use it against him again and again. There are levels to this. You just have sex.
I exchange power.
via Blogger Power Plays
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Such a cliche.......The bookish Accountant with the naughty mind.