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| I confess. I am a Romantic. I am a hopeless Romantic. At least I am hopeless while single.
I need a woman. I will write paeans of poetry for her. I will extol her virtues and especially her non-virtues. Her grace and beauty will be praised through the word, and her body-temple will be subjected to the entire range of sensations – from pleasure to pain. She will know what it is like to be desired – body and soul. She will be worshipped and also whipped. My hands and their instruments shall lead her on a voyage through the land of both soft and hard Kink where she will learn more about herself than she has ever known before. And she will be known as she has never been known before. I will become intimate with her and will know what excites her and also what grates her. I will know by my hands, my tongue, my nose, and my lips every furrow and every fold and every curve in her luscious body. She will be pleasured like never before. And I will be pleasured by pleasuring her.
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