heat-tolerance

[heat-tolerance]

we say "needy" way too often. you're not needy. you're "wanty"

...but with a little work I think I can make you needy.

[heat-tolerance]

God I love how easily I can fluster you. You can speak three languages, but once I say a single patronizing thing in a sweet voice you forget them all.

[heat-tolerance]

Here’s the most basic difference between us.

I need to cum.

You get to cum.

[heat-tolerance]

If you really, really want to touch yourself you'll still want to touch if I make it more difficult.. give you a challenge.. a handicap. right?

So you'll still want to touch if I say you can only... use a single finger? use your left hand? grind the arm of the couch while standing? use a makeup brush to rub your clit? squeeze a pillow between your thighs and hump the air? touch on and off for ten seconds at a time?

Maybe if you're really good I'll even let you help me choose your fun little handicap. Maybe I'll make it too hard and you won't be able to cum. That would be awful. I do wonder, though, how tricky I can make it where you might still be successful.

[heat-tolerance]

It’s not about making you do fucked up things for me.

it’s about making you WANT to do fucked up things for me.

[heat-tolerance]

Cute date idea. I'll write "stupid girl" across your chest with a permanent marker, make you wear a cute little dress that doesn't quite cover it, then we walk around to see how many people notice.

[heat-tolerance]

You girls are so cute when you act tough.

Baby, your fingertips don’t even touch around my cock. You aren’t going to “take me at arm wrestling.”

[heat-tolerance]

You can wear something cute and skimpy while we garden. I’m going to wear my crocs and this dumbass hat.

[heat-tolerance]

I like when you’re feeling safe and warm and relaxed and you’re so wet it slides right in

…but there’s something so nostalgic about hurriedly, impatiently trying to fit into you.. your hand on my stomach holding me back.. your eyes pleading for me to slow down.

It’s like I’m a teenager again and I don’t know any better. I do know better, but right now I just don’t care. I can’t wait.

[heat-tolerance]

I named this blog “heat tolerance” for the (corny, I know) double entendre, but I do actually have an addiction to growing and eating hot peppers. This little guy behind me is one of about 75 I have planted.

[heat-tolerance]

I'm so desensitized. Regular porn does very little for me these days. I need a genuine connection.

I need you to be my pretty little pornstar.

I need you to look me in the eyes and say my name while doing whatever the fuck it is I told you to do.

I need to know your favorite movies and albums just as much as I need to know how much stimulus you can take before getting overwhelmed.

I need to know your thoughts on life, the universe, and everything just as much as I know how easily you bruise.

[heat-tolerance]

I can’t stop thinking about that picture I took of you.. on your knees, hands still tied behind your back, looking up at me with the biggest, proudest smile on your face. Fuck. I don’t think I’ll ever cum that hard again.. and I don’t think you’ll ever look prettier than you do with my cum dripping down your face.

You should make that picture the wallpaper on your phone. Maybe I’ll make it mine too.

[heat-tolerance]

I met this girl who likes to wear sundresses without panties. She says it's "so freeing and comfortable" and I just think that's so fucking adorable.

but

I'm going to train her to feel differently about it. She'll still love it, of course, but 'free' isn't the word I want her thinking of...

Whenever she feels a breeze she's going to think about my fingers gently tracing up her thigh. Whenever she crosses her legs to sit down she's going to think of my hands forcing them apart. Whenever she walks and the bottom of her dress bounces against her thighs she's going to think about how easily I could toss it up over her back.

She's going to reach down and touch herself and her only thoughts will be about how easily I could have her anywhere I want. She won't be able to concentrate on anything because her thoughts will constantly come back to me.

She used to dress like this for herself, but now she's doing it for me.

[heat-tolerance]

You think it's just a coincidence my hand fits perfectly around your neck? my knee feels perfect pressed against your cunt?

Or are these a couple of the thousand reasons why you're meant to be owned by me?

[heat-tolerance]

I don't even have to tell you what to wear. You just know what I like and you're sooo eager for my approval.

[heat-tolerance]

Bruises on your wrists from holding your arms above your head against the wall? Good. Bruises on your ass and thighs from a spanking? Better. Bruises on your hips from when my thumbs dug into you? The fucking best.

[heat-tolerance]

Trying to keep the cicadas off my apple trees. Maybe my lucky possum shirt will scare them away..

Maybe I’ll post more non-horny things from time to time.