Gentle-Sadist

The main quest is usually the one people avoid the longest. It asks too much. It costs too much. So they stay busy solving smaller problems for people who were never going to save them anyway. Busy feels productive. It also hides regret remarkably well. Most people do not waste their lives on failure. They waste them on everything that never really mattered.

She tells you she misses you while sitting three feet away from you. Think about how dark that is for a moment. She misses someone who is physically present. That’s not loneliness. That’s abandonment with witnesses. You know how to treat her right? Put the phone down. Look at her eyes. Learn who she is this year. Not who she was five years ago. People change. Most relationships die because somebody stopped noticing.

Some girls want to be adored. Some want to be ruined, used, and praised for being such a perfect little mess.

Your body would confess before your mouth ever could. That is the cruel part. You could say you are not like that, you could pretend you are too sweet, too careful, too good, but your dripping little cunt would betray you the second I start ruining you properly.

There is a very specific look I want from you. That tiny, wide eyed silence when you realize I am not asking you to move. I am moving you. Lifting you. Holding you. Spreading you. Taking what is already mine in this filthy little fantasy and ruining your soaking holes until you are useless, trembling, dripping, and far too happy about being handled like a slut.