No More Caged Bird

how your breath stopped short in your chest

the way the light drained from your eyes, though you knew your cheeks were ablaze

the way your throat tightened as you tried to form an argument that got lost on your tongue.

your eyes never left the floor that day.

you were 13.

you’re older now, and i still see the light fade from your eyes when you talk about your interests for 'too long,'

apologies littering every other sentence,

words trailing off a cliff you haven’t jumped from in 7 years.

i could listen to you forever, though i know speaking for more than 3 uninterrupted minutes makes you anxious.

all i want you to know is that you deserve to be heard

for 3 minutes

for 10 minutes

for 2 hours

forever.

there will be people who cannot handle your grace, your beauty, your wisdom, your heart;

mostly because they can’t handle their own.

but you will never be

and have never been

'too much.'"

—instagram.com/tywrent

Thoughts of lust

I wanted to pin her down and spread her legs. To see her glistening lips and hard nipples in the afternoon light. I wanted to watch her bite a lip in a vain attempt at disguising how wet she was.

I wanted to take my throbbing cock and place it against her aching pussy. Then push into her. Stretch her. Fill her. Make her take me all the way. To press my body against hers, my weight, my power, making her feel small.

And then I wanted to move. From slow and deep to hard and vicious. From deliberate to out of control. I wanted to pull and grip and push. Mark her flesh and make it hurt. Claim her. Own her. Show her who it was she belonged to.

I wanted all of those things and I wanted them right at that moment.

She turned to look at me and I smiled, pulling a hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She gazed at me with those big, dark eyes, innocent and completely oblivious to what was on my mind.

“What should we do next?” she asked as we stood up.

“I have something in mind.” I took her hand and lead her away. It was time to turn my lustful thoughts into the most filthy reality.

The Beginning

“Will it hurt?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Will there be tears?”

“Very likely.”

“Will I ask you to stop?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“How much you’ll be able to take.”

“How much do you think I can?”

“There’s only one way of finding out.”

She turned around and bent over. I stepped closer and raised my hand.

“Ready?” I said.

She closed her eyes and nodded as my arm swung through the air.

with the occasional

and then finally all those wrist curls and pull ups pay off and you bring her house fucking house down

and you just take a bow like a fucking champion even if no one is around!

your hand is still a little sore…

but was it worth it? *remembers her moaning, yelling, cumming, flopping around, turning into butter in your hand*