Not new. Just gone long enough for most to assume I’d vanished into the myth. I didn’t. I was busy living the kind of life people write books about and then burn the evidence. Vacation was three countries, two private jets, one near-arrest in Monaco, and zero apologies.
I don’t chase. I don’t beg. I don’t perform for crowds unless the mood strikes, and when it does, I make sure the audience never forgets the show. Women have tried to own me; some still wake up wet remembering how close they got before I slipped the leash with a smirk.
I read people the way others scroll feeds: instantly, ruthlessly, accurately. You’ll think you’re in control right up until the moment you realize my tongue is already tracing the exact spot that makes your thighs betray you. I like the switch because power is only fun when it flips without warning. One minute I’m on my knees devouring you like a man starved, the next your wrists are pinned and I’m growling filthy scripture against your ear while I decide how many times you come before I let you breathe.
What I crave
- A woman who can dominate me until I decide I’ve had enough… and then watch the tables turn so fast the room spins.
- Outdoor risk: pressed against a nightclub wall, bent over a balcony at 3 a.m. while the city pretends it can’t hear you scream my name.
- Threesomes where everyone leaves ruined in the best way. Bonus if she’s watching, directing, or joining.
- Armpits, necks, the small of your back—anywhere that makes you squirm when I drag my tongue slow.
- Anal like it’s worship. Slow rimming until you beg, then deeper, dirtier, until “please” isn’t a word anymore—it’s just sound.
- Watching you try to stay quiet while I edge you with a remote toy in public.
- Cock worship that feels like a religious experience and pussy worship that leaves you speaking in tongues.
- Breeding talk so vivid you’ll feel it drip for hours.
Toys I travel with
- Steel anal plug (cold until your heat claims it)
- Cockring that makes me last exactly as long as I want—usually longer than you think you can take
- Remote prostate massager for when a woman wants to feel me lose composure from the inside
I don’t do jealous, clingy, or vanilla. I do intense eye contact, bitten lips, and the kind of deep, slow fucking that feels like confession. If you can match my energy, outsmart me, outlast me, or make me laugh while I’ve got you folded in half—we’re going to have a problem. The kind that ends with ruined sheets and a standing invitation to do it again.
Send the first message like you’re not already wet just reading this.
I’ll know if you’re lying.
—Manni
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