What does it mean when recent married women who used to never post thirst traps just suddenly start. So curious what changed. What’s going through their head. Need attention? Bad sex life? Wanna avoid in my future.
Treat yourself like a slave.
Treat your woman like a queen.
Take Mrs. Brute out for a romantic dinner.
Why?
Celebrating how lucky she is to be wed to a savage.
9pm reso. Somewhere extra special. My evening turf.
Texas Roadhouse.
Mrs. Brute's driving the brand new M5.
I'm kettle bell walking. 10 miles.
75lb ruck on my back. Mouth taped shut.
Outfit change in the front zip pocket.
Organic linen capris & a crispy white Kirkland button down.
Fresh pack of American Sprits balancing on my head.
Start my journey at 7pm. 12min split pace.
Throw the headphones in for the trek.
Gotta 15 team MLB over/under parlay.
14 already hit.
Astros v Angels broadcast.
Just need 1 more run from the home squad.
Crack of the bat. Ohtani dinger.
Cashed. $120k payout.
Combo appetizer type night.
See the neon Roadhouse sign shimmering in the distance.
Puts the Heart of the Ocean in Titanic to shame.
Nearly there. Hardly broke a sweat. Shoulda ran.
M5 was valeted. Mrs. Brute's in the lobby.
Parking lot outfit change.
Spritz of Paco Rabanne 1 Million.
Redline it straight for the double doors.
Crash through them like the blessed ADHD afflicted autistic man I am.
Heads turn like a crowd full of demon possessed little girls.
Watermelon Crawl banging on the speakers.
Throw 2 fresh cigs between my pursed lips.
Manager rushes over to me. Lights the cigs.
"Follow me, Mr. & Mrs. Brute"
Private back room.
Floor peanuts aloud. Standing table. Just us.
Cactus Blossom center table.
Rose pedals and crushed peanuts beneath our feet.
Toby Keith's "Unleashed" plays on vinyl in the corner.
Server makes her way over.
Her jaw drops when she lays eyes on me.
Looks familiar.
It's the veteran waitress from my local Waffle House.
My 2 favorite women. Right here.
Willing. Able. Excited.
Kirkland button down comes off. New cig is lit.
Flex my traps. Panties fall to the peanut flooded concrete floor.
I'm like Frank Hopkins with 2 Hidalgos. Riding bareback.
Clothes back on. Time for the main course.
Ms. Waffle Roadhouse takes our order.
2 bone in ribeyes. Blue rare.
Tip her $50 in Sacs. She limps away like nothing happened.
Mrs. Brute gazes at me from across the standing table.
Bites her lip. Winks.
"You're welcome, killer", she whispers.
Hiroshima size bomb goes off inside my giant brain.
She set this up.
This is love.
Brute doesn't lose.
Steaks come. Perfectly cooked.
She gives me hers.
Another 2 pieces of meat are devoured.
A perfect night? A perfect woman?
Pretty fucking close.
Heart of a Lion. Heart of a fucking Lioness.
If you want to know what women are into just see what they read
The top book of all time for woman is 50 Shades of Gray
An arrogant rich man takes a young girl and abuses her both psychologically and physically(sexually) this makes her fall in love and they get married