Gift wrapped

Are you one to carefully unwrap your presents, peeling the tape away slowly so as to save the paper?  Or do you rip the paper right down the center and ravish the package in your impatience to see what’s inside?
 
D is a hungry man.  While he is patient and takes time to savor each detail unveiled by the unwrapping process, I know that deep down his nature is a rip-or-be-damned kind of man.
 
So, out of respect for this inner, gluttonous beast that resides within my soft-spoken man, this week I will shop for wearable gift wrap, knowing full well that it will only be on the package for a few short minutes.
 
The wrapping must be thin — thin enough for hands and teeth to tear it.  It must be cute — cute enough to awaken my hungry ravisher.  It must be inexpensive — cheap enough that I won’t care that it is in shreds when he is done.
 
Instead of the traditional unbuttoning of my blouse, perhaps he will approach that from behind, the tearing of the fabric filling my ears  as his forearms bulge from the exaggerated effort of setting me free.
 
Instead of lifting my skirt, he will grasp the hem and wrench it open, splitting it up the center as he reveals my panties specifically chosen for this game. Will he rip those, too, before he smacks and swats the tender, revealed flesh?
 
I will stand before him, shredded and revealed, his prize to devour at any speed he chooses.  I predict he’ll choose fast and hard and all-consuming, until all that is left of me is sticky condensation.
 
I’ll leave him to add the red bow, the only detail I cannot add myself, anywhere he chooses.