I get a lot of fan mail. Most of it isn’t worth repeating but once in awhile one comes along that is worth sharing. This one made me smile, then laugh. See if you can catch the humor too…
Ode to an internet beauty
You’ve written about getting messages obviously written one-handed. Don’t slight us or yourself. I’m here because the moment I first saw your photo, I experienced involuntary movement of a major body part. Has that ever happened to you? Can you imagine if you saw a really sexy guy and all of the sudden your arm moved without you making it do so? I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, and my cock got hard until it throbbed incessantly. When I very soon after watched that first brief video clip somewhere on the web, yes, I couldn’t help but watch with one hand. I had no choice but to masturbate. I had to. You beauty forced an erection on me, forced incredible lust on me, and forced me to masturbate. My hand grabbed my cock as if directed by a power beyond my control, tightly, and starting stroking it like it was a jackhammer. Seeing you, that classically beautiful face, the high cheekbones, the petite, thin frame, the tiny waist, the very round hips, the perfect-size breasts that are perfectly shaped and are firm and high, those legs, and, just as much a work of art as your sculpted face, that absolutely round, extremely high, tight, and symmetrical rear end that makes for a perfect outward arch–such an incredible curve, the best curve a woman can have and you have every curve, one word inhabited my mind, my hand, my cock, my heart, my soul as I looked….
…My brain function devolved back in time to its most primitive state where I could no longer even think. Primal instinct took over and it made my cock hard and throb, made my hips thrust in a fucking motion even though I was alone, and made me think, over and over and over as I was captured by your sexual power, only of one one syllable word: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck her. Fuck that woman. I need to fuck the hell out of this woman before I die. I HAVE to fuck her. It’s an animal reaction you create in us. It’s what makes us view, subscribe, write. I lose control over my penis where you are concerned: I get hard even if I don’t want to, I jackoff harder than I intend to as my body acts as it would were I actually be fucking you, I come harder, I ejaculate more, and I come much sooner than I’d like to because you take over my mind, body, soul and cock. You own my cock, in a way. In real life, I’d want to drill you forever, but in reality would surely come very quickly given how much you turn me on. You are a living fuckdoll in the most complimentary sense. We men fantasize about having Mistress T the fuckdoll as our personal fuck-toy. That’s the secret hope for some of us; we’re not all submissive wimps. I want to take you under me and have my way with you, touch you everywhere at once, lick you forever, and pound you until my cock falls off.
It’s real–you capture our core beings merely by looking as you do, by being you. I have had innumerable orgasms while watching your videos and looking at your photos. You have the best ass–when a woman is so perfectly round back there, I get overwhelmed with lust. I love everything about your appearence, but it’s that extraordinary rear-end of yours that keeps me coming back, and keeps me looking with only one free hand.
You’re the best.