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Intellectual whips for the mild-mannered Pepper Potts by day and the submissive, filthy minded Harley Quinn when properly bound?
I swear these profiles are more like small, awkward, social acts of seppuku for born introverts. A career of think tanks and biotech tends to corrupt the social senses. Yet, somewhere amongst this little white box I’m expected to seduce you; an intelligent, in-shape, playful, geek type kinkster who wears proper grammar and etiquette as well as she would duct tape, bruises and nipple clamps.
Either I need less fiction in my morning cereal or more sugar.
Still reading? By now if you haven't found yourself with a grin slapped across your grey matter and a wet spot condensing between your legs - I suggest upping your meds and hunting down the nearest Dr. Seuss literature. This would also indicate our mutual interest is minimal regardless of how large your chest is.
So what brings me here? First, it’s illegal (and probably frightening) to stalk and run down a woman in the backwood state park trails just to let her know she’d look incredible with a couple bruises on her ass. Second, there is nothing more relaxing after a long day in the think tank than a woman on her knees, begging for her own desires to be bent to your unrestrained aggressive hunger. Sadly, the world of research and development has a severe shortage of neatly trimmed vaginas. Rug burns, rope burns and bite marks - pleasure and pain – the human physics behind equal and opposite reaction. I could drink, watch TV, smoke and eat small children (that last one always comes up at some point, so I figure we should get it out of the way), but I choose not too. Instead you’re more likely to find me out on a trail running, sailing when the wind is in favor, climbing, reading graphic novels and science journals or taking out my stresses on a jiu jitsu mat until I can find a suitable backside attached to a pleasantly whorish slut-lust mind.
It’s a strange place down the rabbit hole. A bit dark and hard to see at first, but once you’ve been there - nothing taste the same again.
Introverts, music sluts, small chests, LEGO fetishists, bookworms, and hard science graduates always get moved to the front of the line. Class, dismissed.
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