youre all poised and im made of poison

Call me crazy but the hottest part of exhibitionism is the violation of everyone else's consent. The hot part isnt me getting touched i could do that in the comfort of my own bedroom the hot part is the strangers on the bus giving scandalized gasps and murmurs and judgement and the visible discomfort and hammering home how much of a freak i am. And thats nothing its hotter when they don't know their space is being violated. Masturbating under the couch next to them while you share a blanket and wondering if they can smell the scent of sex when they shift the blanket. Getting fucked over your friends face while theyre blackout drunk and passed out and at any moment they can open their eyes and get an eyeful of your pussy getting stretched open. Getting fingered during game night with the family trying not to clench too tightly or else the noises of how wet you are will give away more than your facial expressions. Jerking your girlfriend off on the crowded bus because the proximity to the girl in front of her made her hard and her cock is almost touching the girls ass. The violation of everyone else makes it hotter its like they just exist to increase the stakes and pleasure

throw your hair in a messy bun, drink some blood, put on some nine inch nails and jerk off face down

dumb dog of a top that can’t help but pull your jeans down to your knees and use you whenever he feels his dick getting kinda hard. on a cute hike or picnic date in the middle of the woods or something and he just shoves your face into the dirt before getting to work on your belt. huffing and whining like he literally can’t focus on anything Other than stuffing himself inside you as quick as possible

holding you in a headlock as i jerk you off . watching as you get weaker ,, your breath staggering trying to muster up energy to fight back . resisting less and less ,, unfortunately for you and fortunately for me <3

what's the point of going to bed if he's not rubbing his bulge against my ass?

Shoving my knee between your legs and telling you to get yourself off. I’m not helping you, I’m not moving it for you. You can’t do it yourself or I’m leaving you with no release.

puppy can have nice ears and tail

the rooms thick with smoke. there’s a feint glow of the blunt passing between us as we are lolled on the couch. you’re giggling, eyes glassy, already half-fucked-up, but i’m obsessed with watching you lose it. “take another hit,” i say, pressing it to your lips as you pause. you inhale deep, your tits rising under your shirt, lashes fluttering. “one more,” i urge, handing it back, and you obey, fingers shaking as you suck it down. i keep going, “come on, another,” until your giggles die, your body slumping into the cushions, too stoned to move, your mind a sloppy, blank mess. you’re out of it now, eyes rolled back, breathing shallow, and i lean in, growling how fucking hot you look like this. i slide my hands under your shirt, groping your tits, feeling your nipples harden as you moan softly. its too easy, knowing you can’t protest. you can’t think, can’t fight, just a wet, needy whimper slipping out as i yank your pants down, spreading your thighs to find you dripping. it’s crazy how your body can betray you in such ways…

"poor baby" im bricked.