I’ll keep the calls off of the blog. It seems that’s what you’d want. I love you. It’s been hard lately with the neighbors. This month should be better. I don’t want to think about so much right now, things that would pull me into memories or the future. I am yours through all of it. I wish so much you understood how desperately I need you to claim me. I fucking will always love you, Mistress. I can feel it screaming through my blood, raking at the walls of the veins. I need you. I will always need you. You will have me as your whenever you want. I want to confess my sins to your pussy while you wear headphones, never knowing. I’ll always love you. I’m sorry this is so brief. I hope these words read like cliches rather than the frantic again-understandings of a tortured mind. Yours. Always Yours. I’ll write tonight, discuss what it means to have the reality of me be a manifestation of your pussy when I masturbate. Or something similarly odd.
