we’re fucking and i’m a whining, squirming mess. you’re pumping your fingers in and out of me and i’m meeting each thrust with my hips when you say, “grab the joint and lighter, baby. you’re such an overstimulated mess. you need a smoke.”
you don’t stop fucking me. in fact, you only fuck me harder and laugh at me as i struggle to locate the joint. you curl your fingers harder, coo and awe at me as i struggle to light up because i can’t stop moaning. my tits bounce and my toes curl and god i really just wanna cum.
eventually, you take pity on me; snatch it out of my hands and pop it in your mouth. the hand not rutting into me easily sparks the lighter and you call me a mindless whore because i can’t complete the simplest of requests.
you make me take hit after hit, decidedly edging me because it’s what i deserve. good girls get to cum and i’m just a silly, stupid slut. you make me take a hit each time you stop and hold my breath. i’m so dizzy, so high, so mindless that i don’t mind when you bring out your cock, the one i’m squeamish about taking. but i’m so stoned, so high, that each blink feels like it takes a million years and every nerve ending is wrapped in a dull warmth.
“it’s okay, princess,” you say with a voice so sugary sweet. it doesn’t match the sting of your grip, the bruises forming on my chest, the apprehension curling in my stomach. “i know you can take me tonight. just lay back. why don’t you take another hit of daddy’s weed?”
𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈
