I can’t stop thinking about what I want to do to you. I need to see your body, to smell your pussy, to taste your ass. These thoughts of you in my head are almost impossible to express in words. I need to paint you in the most beautiful watercolor painting in order to have a hope of expressing myself. I need to paint the pain and the pleasure I want to give to you. I must illustrate my need to possess you, to use you, to make you mine. Words are not enough. I am obsessed with you.
Eloquence is needed. If all I have are words then you deserve to be wrapped in the soft red velvet of my speech. The prose of a great writer is required in order to justly describe the power of our sexual transaction. What made us like this? I derive pleasure from your insatiable need to be abused by me in order for you to be fulfilled. Were you spanked too much as a child? Were you not spanked enough? Either way, I will help.