WARM LEATHERETTE

making me wear my own wetness as lipgloss after putting her fingers inside of me just so she can kiss it off before fucking me again

normalize taking your top's face in your hands when they're visibly trying not to lose themself in your cunt and cooing little just barely condescending questions in a sweet tone while you hold them like "doesn't that feel good?" "you must have been so pent up, was that hard for you?" "is this what you needed?" until they start nodding and shaking and tearing up against your palm and rutting too frantically to catch their own breath so they just have to give you dumb breathy little "uh huh"s for every reply

restrained summer fun. tied up summer fun. bound and gagged summer fun.

when they smack your ass suddenly, then rub it as you gasp, and adorn it with a soft kiss to ease the sting…

Describe to me in detail how you want me to fuck you and I will follow your commands forever

everyone talks about cute subs who get mushy-brained while getting fucked but what about the cute doms who get mushy-brained n stupid while fucking someone??? hellooooo???

can we be passionate and intimate but also disgusting and perverted pleeeeeaseeeeee

I'm so easy it's absolutely pathetic, she says she wants to see my tits and I blush and squirm and five seconds later I'm pulling my tits out to snap a picture

she’s shy but she masturbates with her tongue out bc she’s imagining you’re watching

can you toy with my cunt? spit in my pussy and play with it? take your time admiring it knowing i get all shy and embarrassed when you do that yet force me to keep looking at you while you observe my cunt? watch it throb and clench around nothing, as if its begging to feel something, anything...

literally all i’ve been able to think about lately is being spanked. i need to be pulled over the lap of a fully clothed butch with my jeans and briefs pulled down to my knees. i need them to tell me that they know i’ve been overwhelmed lately, so they’re gonna help me relax. all i have to do right now is count. i can squirm and cry and kick and scream and white-knuckle the sheets as much as i need. i don’t want them to tell me what number we’re going to, we’re done when i’m a mumbling, panting, blissed out piece of putty in their hands.