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Male Dominant, 45, Rhode island
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Male Switch, 38, central ct, Connecticut
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Male Dominant, 43
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About Bondamental
Looking For You...
I'm a very private, happily introverted, obsessively creative, intensely kinky romantic, conditioned, seasoned dominant seeking a very few select, extraordinarily individualistic romantics for correspondence, friendship, commitment, and cooperation in conspiring to realize the fulfillment of the wilder, more determined desires in discrete and reserved abandon. i do not lie, can be trusted to do what is right, not popular, forever. i do not follow the pack, nor the heard, except when hungry, and i do it my way, yet, do appreciate intelligence and will accept another's inclinations, as those desires promote our mutual proclivities. this is a poem i've been working on for decades; i can't seem to find the perfect flow; perhaps you know it? fast cat, tall grass; saliva dripping on buttocks sly... and the heavens sigh. |
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There was a hallway, odd way and dull light slithered through its shadows. There were doors, some silent, some alive with a tumultuous din of jaded laughter mired in pitiful whimpers amid the grinding low growl of faceless maidens dragging hopeful sins.
Hoping for a window i went in.
Ahhh the lascivious whispers tickled, but the giggles were merely void holes lost in electric winds.
Still hoping for a window i wandered further through thinking eventually to snatch a soul and escape back to the blue.
the scenes of broken angels torturing lonely lost dreamers scampered to and fro, the light dwindling around me, generously offering no place to go. Like a pony lost in hell i wandered on.
i spied a leporous rat, with its twisted degenerate tail, topple a candle setting greasy curtains ablaze, the room vanished, so i pitched a tent. With insincere blessings the dreamers came, there was a council, and honor... a brief glimpse of truth and a chance for a new tomorrow glowed in our souls.
but the rabid mangy rat lurked in the ashes as the light was evil to its tortured soul. it did not come to the council it blessed, instead it snuck craftily behind the broken, blackened ruins as it contrived with with the pitiful whimpers, and with lying spirits, its disease became their treat, and with filthy feet they all scampered to its hole.
'twas jus a strange dream, but now i know, my desire is free, at last i am again in the blue, still searching for you.
Silvertongue |
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