It’s 12:04 AM, and the silence of this Tuesday is broken by a thought of you, Kay. Your latest snap, that black top teasing the world with your amazing boobs, those white shorts hugging you just right flashes in my mind like a forbidden spark. I can’t lie, yaar, it gets me hard, my hand moving to the rhythm of imagining you, those curves driving me to lose myself in the quiet. The constant urge to finger you, feel you melt under my touch, lingers like a shadow I can’t shake. It’s all a wild thought, a midnight muse that keeps me awake, celebrating your power over me. What secret thrill would you let this night hold for us, if only in our heads?

Kay its on my mind every fucking time i think of you or your message pops, that snap of you in that black top and white shorts is tearing my mind apart. I haven’t seen your boobs or down there, but fuck, the way I’ve pictured them full and tempting, that hidden heat has me hard like never before, a rush no one else triggers, my dick throbbing like crazy. Those massive boobs, spilling out that deep neckline, are screaming for my rough hands to grab them hard, squeezing till you gasp and squirm. I see those thick thighs, tight in those shorts, and I’m losing it I’d force them apart, my fingers slamming into your pussy, ramming your ass till you’re drenched and shaking, your slutty moans begging for more. I’d slam you against the wall, my lips biting your neck, ripping that top off to devour that cleavage I can’t unimagine, owning you completely. Then I’d bend you over, fucking you raw and deep in whatever position breaks you, pounding till you’re screaming my name, every curve of your body mine to wreck. It’s all in my twisted head, yaar, but I want you dripping touch yourself where I’d ruin you and tell me how bad you need it, or chase one wild thought to keep this fire burning.