MusingsAndMoanings

The feeling when someone just spam likes the shit out of your blog is so . . . Sexy.

I consider reblogging my post as flirting. You have been warned.

Sitting at work. listening to your voice eyes closed cock swelling precum tipped fingers teasing my breathing matching yours moan for moan word for word so close don't stop faster yes yes . . . No not yet I cant. not now fuck I need to calm down but Im sitting at work listening to your voice eyes closed. . .

I need to hear her deepest fantasy through desire filled whimpers of lust. Tell daddy what you really want him to do.

I love doom scrolling through the naughty side of tumblr at work, teasing myself until the urge to touch and stroke and cum takes over and I just becum needy and desperate. Mmmm fuck im getting nothing done today.

I want to trace the tattoos on your thighs with my tongue. re-paining and shading each one . Outlining each flower, tracing each skull. I want to experience art. And you are my muse.

You look so cute. Over there curled up reading your book, imagination in another world. And all I can think about is how badly I want to hear you cum. To listen to your fake protest in the forms of questions you already know the answer to. “What are you doing?” you ask as my hand move up the inside of your thighs. My answer clear as I take the book from your hand careful to save your spot (I’m not an animal) and placing the pages down and my head tilts in to kiss you and my other hand finds your clit. “ Do you know now?” Asking the question I already know the answer to.