your only born to get fucked

Not sure what your cunt is trying to tell you? Use this as a guide!*

“Yes” = Yes

“No” = Yes

“Please no” = Yes, but slap me first

“I’m not in the mood tonight” = Hold me down and force it in

“I have a boyfriend/husband” = Give me bruises to hide from him

“Stop” = Harder

“Please stop” = Spit on me

“That hurts” = Keep going

“Be gentle” = Hit me harder

“I can’t breathe” = Choke me harder

“I’ll suck your cock” = Force it down my throat

“I don’t swallow” = Slap me until I agree to swallow, then spit in my mouth

“Play with my clit” = Slap my cunt

“Fuck my cunt” = Fuck my ass

“I don’t do anal” = My ass is very tight

“No it won’t fit” = Force it in

“No please it hurts” = Don’t use lube

“Be more respectful” = Step on my face while you fuck my asshole

“I’m a classy girl” = I love ass to mouth

“I’m about to cum” = Don’t let me cum yet, I haven’t earned it

And some body language cues:

Wears lingerie and/or heels = Fuck me

Wears any other clothes = Hit me for wearing clothes, then fuck me

Gets on her knees = Skull fuck me

Gets on all fours = Fuck my ass

Gets on her back = Slap my cunt then fuck my ass

Smiles = Fuck my throat until I pass out

Cries = Fuck my ass harder

Whimpers = Slap my tits

Screams = Gag me, preferably with your cock

Tries to run away = Tie me up then slap and fuck me even harder

Reblog if from the UK ….

Next time you’re out somewhere, like your favorite city street or shopping mall, take the time to sit down and look around. 

If you’re like me, you’ll quickly notice that any busy place is absolutely crammed full of hot little cunts. All of them absolutely oblivious to the evil that sits just outside of grabbing distance. There are so many. Gorgeous little things with their tight pants and their low-cut tops, just going about their business, not ever thinking about how they present themselves. How our gaze runs over them. How they struggle and cry in an oubliette, deep inside our minds. 

That’s right. I rape every woman I see. Every one from consent to senility. Every one screaming, pleading, hurting inside my mind, for my pleasure only. Chances are, if I’ve ever seen you, I’ve thought about you. 

Now stop for a minute. Imagine how many of us there must be. Hundreds. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Your nice old neighbor. Your boss. That cute guy who comes in for his daily coffee. The guy with the uncomfortable stare, who’s just sitting on a bench. 

We’re everywhere, us predators. Even if we’ve never done it. Even if we’re as safe as houses, so long as we fulfill our needs somewhere. You never really realized that, did you? 

Of course you didn’t. It’s because you’re not a predator.