You don't need to make up to me, lover, although I cherish your efforts in the lavish backseats of an American stretch limo on our way to the middle of nowhere. Give me any small space, really, any room whatsoever to unbuckle your belt, sit down in your lap and grind your hard day into blissful elation. You're all about making me happy, I like that.
You know your cock makes me happy, deep inside me, pounding and thrusting, until the sweet beads are streaming down your chest. Mad sex, bad sex, beat me baby, we both know I deserve it. Punish me for my insolence, my pink clit especially, because you know it's so sensitive like your heart.
Pummel my tiny pearl, until the swollen purple hue appeases your heated rage. Let there be no magical dust, no sleeping solace, no anaesthetic potion to numb my senses. Call me mercilessly, alert to your painful passion, writhing in anguish and intimate defeat.
I am a slave to your vengeance, a prisoner to your wistful and perverted desires, your kink and your roughness, your irreparable damages. Look down when you're done with me, my nudity puddled in your devastating affection. Blissless and vulnerable to your wildest atrocities, shoot your cum in my face.
Fist me with frantic finality, splayed and depraved in my demoralized envy. You are beautiful, male in your flaming plumage, gorgeous and gifted, powerful and mighty. May I satisfy you fully in my last fleeting moments, grant you release of your pent-up aggressions.
Give me everything you've got, hammer me bloody and bruised, ripped like a virgin, rolled in your sheets, buried in your backyard rose garden, my petals forever blooming with the scent of your fury. Give me your eternal spring.