Raunchy 33-year-old dom dude in DC. My hobbies include hockey, hiking, humiliating bros, bullying douchebags, beating up bullies, locking up jock cock, and wrecking assholes' assholes.
Doms. Masc tops. Boys. They’re so precious.
We love them because they’re big and imposing, if not physically, then in terms of their sheer confidence and power. An entire being made up of sheer dominance.
We forget sometimes, though, that every strong, assertive Masc top was once a little boy, and that little boy still lives deep down inside them. I’d go as far as to say they’re part little boy, part puppy: there’s no denying how excitable and impressionable both those beings can be.
So is it really a surprise that nowadays he, your fully-grown Masc Man, literally starts panting when you strip down to his favorite sexy underwear? That his eyes glaze over and a devilish smirk appears in his face each night when he realizes you’re like a new toy he gets to play with? Or that, when you give it to him, he laps at your boipussy like he were an actual puppy and you’d coated it with peanut butter?
*sigh* Even if they forget our favorite flowers, or what toppings to put on our half of the pizza or our dads’ birthdays. Even if they’re bad boys, they always deserve it, just by virtue of how f*cking adorable they are.
Oh, those Tops. What are we going to do about them?
Magnus Carlsen, World Chess Champion