The mere thought
of you
on your knees
fills me
with pride
desire
and poetry.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Whitaker
The need
to own you
to direct you
to teach you
to nurture you
to control you
to excite you
to support you
to guide you
to protect you
to arouse you
to mentor you
to thrill you
to inspire you
to admire you
and
to adore you
is hard-wired
into this
romantic
sexually dominant
soul.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
A year old. Always true.
Art by William Whitaker
The need
to own you
to direct you
to teach you
to nurture you
to control you
to excite you
to support you
to guide you
to protect you
to arouse you
to mentor you
to thrill you
to inspire you
to admire you
and
to adore you
is hard-wired
into this
romantic
sexually dominant
soul.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Whitaker
There is a woman.
She walks this earth.
I have not met her, although I once came close. I have barely seen her, though glimpses have thrilled me. I have never spoken to her, although I swear I can hear her sweet accent in my head. And in my dreams.
I do not know her perfume but her scent thrills me. I have not touched her but can almost feel her skin beneath my finger tips. I have not looked into her eyes, but feel light-headed at the thought.
I have not owned her, but the hunger to do so consumes me.
There is a woman.
She walks this earth.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by William Whitaker
I wrote this three years ago. It has been plagiarised at least four times, once by a woman who reversed the point of view. I suppose I should take it as a compliment (except I hate thieves). I have always liked this post, and hope you will forgive the repost.
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