Forcing your knees apart so I can tongue your pretty little exposed cunt while you moan and struggle to get away from my firm, uncomfortable grip and ravenous mouth. You shouldn't be enjoying this. I'm hurting you. Using you. Ignoring your protests and sidelining your comfort to feed my unquenchable hunger. You shouldn't be enjoying this at all. But you can't help grinding your hips back and forth. Your trembling body's involuntary reaction to the pleasure being inflicted upon it against your will. Such a stupid prey animal you are. You can't even stop yourself from enjoying your own violation.

There’s something dangerous about sweet women who keep pretending the dark thoughts just found them by accident. The soft voice. The innocent eyes. The little shocked look when the conversation gets filthy. Cute lie. They know why they stay. They know why they come back. They don’t want to be ruined in one ugly moment. They want it slow. Quiet. Personal. Just enough corruption to make their thighs press together and their halo feel a little heavier every time they think of you.

That’s the problem with attention. Once you’ve had the real thing, everything else feels empty. A few words. A look. A hand on your chin. Suddenly you’re kneeling without even realizing how you got there. Not because you have to. Because some part of you stopped wanting to leave.

You think you want attention. You think you want compliments. Then it happens and you are scared. Then someone looks at you for a little too long. Sees a little too much. And suddenly one ‘good girl’ hits harder than a hundred people wanting you. That’s how it starts. Quietly.

The dangerous part was never making you sit here. The dangerous part was making it feel normal. Now every other place feels slightly wrong. Every other conversation feels a little empty. That’s how attachment works. Not all at once. Just slowly enough that you don’t notice until you’re already looking for me.

Most people think danger feels loud. It doesn’t. It feels familiar. That’s why they never see it coming. It learns your favorite song. It remembers how you take your coffee. It listens when you talk. Then one day you look around and realize you’ve stopped feeling safe anywhere else.

this moment when I slide my hard cock slowly inside your wet drenching swollen pussy and I hold your hips still so you have no choice but to take it exactly how I give it to you every slow push every pause dragging it out until you’re desperate for more before I finally cum deep inside you and don’t move right away just watching my cum slowly leaking out of you like a quiet proof before I fuck it slowly back in with a calm steady rhythm

Any idiot can flirt with a woman. That's easy. A compliment costs nothing. A little attention costs nothing. The harder question is whether you notice what's underneath. The exhaustion she hides behind a smile. The things she never says out loud. The weight she's been carrying for so long she forgot it was heavy. Most people see the face she shows the world. Very few notice the version that's quietly falling apart behind it. That's the one I pay attention to.