Lessons in loathing. The first time you smelled rubber. The shameful hug of latex. Walking into a smoky sex club before the age of cameras, where only your eyes could record the whipping of emotional intrusions and sweaty misdirections. Most of us on here are humans. I don’t need 4k to remind me I am alive. Where are the well read, and the well said? Calling all dominant women who want a real, invisible, untouchable, connection into another person’s mind, soul, and slippery silhouettah of a man. I got stories. I have manners. 7 billion people and we are all lonely. Let our kinks be the bridge over troubled waters.