Greed: The wanting of something. Not the tempestuous want of lust, but a controlled, directed want that drives you to get it.
It’s another sin of excess, those churchy types really like the whole self-denial thing, don’t they?
I’m greedy. I confess.
I’m greedy for her, for her arousal, for her body, for the pleasure I can take from it, and take in it. Greedy for her wet, for her orgasms, for her wet, greedy to reward her for how she pleases me with my orgasms.
I’m greedy for her eyes, the look in them when her instinct overwhelms her and she is compelled to obey, the look when she comes, for the way they drift and cloud over when she faints. Greedy for her subspace.
I’m greedy for her worries and troubles. I want them, I want to take them from her. I’m greedy for her joys and successes, for us to share them.
I’m greedy for the many ways she pleases me, greedy for the things she does for me that mean I can tell her she’s a good girl, my good girl. Greedy for the satisfaction and fulfilment she gets from pleasing me, and the corresponding fulfilment I get from being pleased. Greedy to care for her needs in all the ways her submission allows.
I’m greedy for her submission that allows me to steadily push back her boundaries, grow her experience and ability to please me. Greedy for her eagerness, for the way she’s greedy for more…
Above all, I’m greedy for her time, greedy to care for her, greedy for HER.
I can’t get enough.
Verdict: Guilty as sin
All of The Deadly Seven
© Charles Rochester 2016