It's you

Welcome to the…almost… darksied of Tumblr, 34, F, Leo. (She, Her) American, Made in New York. With New York Qualities and Traits. All this page is about is to be wanted by a man. To be loved by one. To be committed to him and him me. To be Enough. To be Wanted. The Object of his desires… Always. BDSM, Impregnation & Role Play Friendly. Please block, dont report if any of these are controversial to you. >> DNI << No submissions. I dont want your noodes. Im single + No open relationships. No sister wives. No children. Not a dominant. Submissive always in bed.

Maybe I wanted him to be angry with me. Maybe I wanted him to fight his nature of being a man. A top predator of the food chain. Watching him fight within himself and struggle. As I hold my breath unsure of what he may do next, but how could I ever be unsure? I could trust him. He could trust me. Knowing he could… but he could never. No matter how disobedient and defiant I became. I just make him so mad. I say things. Terrible things sometimes. I am his wife. And I am his for his taking. His pleasure. How could I talk back, be so ungrateful. He was every right to show me. He says nothing. I don’t know if I feel fear or anticipation. But it’s why I always make sure to wear easy to access clothes around our home. Short skirts, dresses. I wonder if he knows. I should stop being an annoying nagging wife. It’s bad enough im 34, competing with his young 18 yr old secretaries paid to sleep with him at his every whim. Perhaps he should’ve listened when they said happy wife, happy life. We wouldn’t be here. A smack across my face, pressed against the wall, accusing him, vulnerable, nervous. Panties pulled to my knees as my husband shoves himself inside of me. “Is this what you want?” He goes harder as he covers my mouth with his hands. “Is this what you need?” I can barely stand, his strength is the only thing keeping me up, I am all his, his wife. “You make me so angry.” He says. He makes me face the wall as if in time-out as he continues “You are my wife. I love you. And youre all mine.” He is so rough and so tender as he brushes my hair away from my face, and leans in to kiss my cheek, pouring himself inside of me. I should know better. He chose to marry me after all. “Yes, I know but—“ there he’s done it again. He covers my mouth with his hand, “shhh…..thats enough… what’s for dinner?”….