This is all part of the con, you see. He pulls back just enough to scare me, just enough to make me desperate. He knows he owns me when I’m in that state. He knows I’ll take whatever crumb of attention he’s willing to throw at me, and he knows I’ll be grateful for it. He Knows he owns me – heart, soul and vagina.
And he’s fucking right.
(This is all completely facetious, btw. True that I want him so much I’ll take what I can get but I honestly don’t think he realizes that he owns me as he does. He thinks I’m a fun, independent, sexual being and he likes me that way. Luckily, that is also who I am. And everything I am is crazy about him. He will be fucking me in the morning. Umph.)