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Show him how really thankful you are for earning his attention.✨

Show him some tits, let him grope you.

And it's adorable. She's watching me talk to this other man, and I can see on her face and in her eyes that she has no idea what we're talking about.

I know she understands it when I speak because she responds, but I always make sure to talk slowly and clearly and in small words I am sure she'll understand. The conversation I'm having now? None of it's going in, none of it would, so she's just switched off. Smiling happily up at me, a million miles away.

Adorable.

There used to be times that sort of expression took effort to tease out. Talking her down from being smart, working her into it. It got easier and easier, and now?

Now there she is. Defaulting to dumb.

Such a good girl.

I pat her head and feel her nuzzle into my palm.

Take my phone- text people, pretending to be me.

Cancel plans because you don’t want me going out

Tell me I need to stay home because it would make you happy. Don’t let me wear clothes. Leave the house because you have plans but make me stay home, alone.

Or tell me I can still go out and see my friends. Make me thank you for allowing me that option. Tell me, two minutes before I walk out the door, that you wanted to help me with my makeup. Coat my face in your cum. Spread it into my hair.

Tell me it’s up to me- I can still go out, but I can’t clean up. Make ME make the decision to call and cancel. I’ll have to be the one to come up with a story.

Eventually my friends aren’t going to want to invite me anymore.

Make my life revolve around you. Your wants. Your needs.

I've been at my desk for three hours and I've written maybe four sentences because I can't stop touching my cock. It's been hard since I woke up. That kind of hard where it throbs against your stomach, where every shift in your chair reminds you it's there and it's not going away until you do something about it.

So I stroke it. Just for a second. Just to take the edge off. Except the edge doesn't come off. It gets worse. Now my hand is wrapped around it and I'm thrusting up into my fist, slow and lazy, pre leaking down my shaft, and I've completely lost whatever thought I had about the email I was writing. Doesn't matter. Nothing matters except the squeeze of my hand and the fact that it's not enough. My hand is never enough when I'm like this.

I need you. I need a slut who'll crawl under this desk and let me bury my cock in their mouth so I can finally think about something else. Or better yet, park you in my lap and let me work with my cock stuffed inside you. Just keeping it warm. Keeping it somewhere tight and wet so it shuts up and lets me focus. You don't even need to move. I just need to be in something. Something that clenches and reminds me it's there every time I shift my weight.

That's all I'm asking for. A place to put it. A good little cock sleeve who'll sit still and let me finish this fucking email.