hi is this a safe space to say i'm a liiiittle tipsy rn and can't stop thinking about a butch keeping my drink topped up. steadying me by the waist when i start getting wobbly. watching with an endeared smile as my words get a lil slurred. pushing another drink into my hand anyway. cooing, "you wanna get home?" when the room starts spinning. buckling me into the car before driving me home with one hand on the wheel and the other tracing innocent patterns onto my thigh. guiding me through front door of the house and into the bedroom.
"wanna get comfy?" they'd ask— but their hands are already peeling my clothes off.
"poor baby... too dizzy to stand? you wanna lay down?" but they're already coaxing me to lay back. hands are already traveling across my hips, my waist, my chest.
"oh? not ready for bed yet?" when my legs fall open and my hips start to buck up into their own. "you sure? not too gone?"
but the hand slipping underneath my panties and the mouth on my neck and the "look at you"s and "you're so good"s would make me wonder if having me dazed and whiny and desperate and too drunk to pretend otherwise was the plan all along.
idk is it a safe space to say that's #onmymind
