Tell me your secret desires, whisper them into my ear. I want to hear them, in your words with your voice no matter what they are or who they are about. I want to know them, all of them. The dirtier the better, don’t hold back, give me every last droplet of filth that you harbour away inside your brain. Infect me with them.
What are the things that your mind strays to in the dead of the night which will have your hand reaching beneath the covers for your hard cock? You know the ones don’t you, they are the ones you don’t tell anyone and yet they are the ones that play, like silent picture reels in your imagination, over and over again. They always make you hard, they always make you cum. Oh I am sure you have told snippets of them to various people over time but I don’t want just snippets, I want them all, every little delicious detail. We all guard the details because it is in the details where our real truths lays. It is the details the expose us and make us blush. I want the details. I want to run around inside the darkness of your mind.
Do you ever blush? Somehow I can’t imagine it and yet the thought of you doing so delights me. It would mean I had burrowed my way beneath that steely exterior and exposed something a little raw and personal.
Of course the game is never played like this. You are the one who extracts the details, stripping away the barriers and slowly exposing my truths so that you can play with them. You tease them from me, like lurid confessions whispered to a priest but rather than absolving me of my sins you feast on them instead. Knowledge is power and you make it your business to know me and yet every time you touch me, every kiss, every mark you leave on my skin, every one of your orgasms tells me more about you. By delving into my desires you cannot help but reveal your own to me. You might not confess your secrets to me in stolen little whispers but in time I will know them anyway for you will leave them scattered all over my flesh.