BDSM Dating in Liverpool

I have this thing, it’s not just a kink. It’s emotional. ***. Primal. It’s about indulgence. About trust. About seeing a slim, delicate woman, one with soft curves and hips that stick out when she lies down, let herself go just for me. And I don’t mean wild or reckless. I mean surrender. The kind where she lets me treat her, feed her, adore her… until her belly, once flat and modest, swells into this gorgeous, tight little dome. Just from me.

**That contrast of her petite frame, and this proud, round bump pressing against her dress… it undoes me. It’s so tender. So hot. And when that dress comes off and her belly spills into my hands, warm and firm, I can barely think. I want to touch. To worship. To kiss her navel. To nuzzle against her soft skin. Sometimes I want to bite it. Gently of course, like I can’t help myself. Like I’m 1ntoxicated by how impossibly full and beautiful she looks.

There’s this moment too after she’s had too much, when she shifts and groans and sighs, where her body starts fighting to keep up. Her belly’s heavy. Distended. She can’t move easily. And that… that’s when something ancient kicks in. Something primal. She is vu1nerable in the most intimate way. Her body is no longer in control, and it’s my doing. Not in a cruel way, but in a way that says, she trusted me enough to let this happen. And now I’m here to protect her. To soothe her. To rub her belly and tell her how perfect she looks.

**Who would be the perfect partner? The girl that admits she too gets that urge. That sometimes once she’s fed and full and completely sated, she'll let me see it flicker behind her eyes. That same primal energy. Like an * who’s eaten her fill and now just wants to be taken. To receive. To lay back, stretch out, belly taut and rising, and let nature take over.

That would be the cherry on top for me.

That moment where she looks at me, her body swollen from everything I’ve poured into her: food, drink, affection, and says with her eyes, “Finish it.”. To want me to really fill her. Let me claim the space she’s made for me inside her. Not just her belly, but her.

And when she lets me… when she opens up in that final, intimate way… that’s when I feel it: Look what I did to you. That’s when it all comes together. She’s full because of me. She’s mine. She’s carrying me in the most tender, visceral way, and in that moment, nothing could be more perfect.

Are you that girl? If you are, drop me a message!