I Need Them To Tell Me How Pretty They Think I Am While They Rail Me. When I Say Call Me Pretty I Dont

I need them to tell me how pretty they think I am while they rail me. When I say call me pretty I don’t mean, “you’re so pretty.” I mean I want to feel your fingers swirling circles round my clit. I mean I’m craving the deep way my body stretches and pulls right after a yawn, but in the center where it all connects I want you. I mean I need the involuntary full abdominal tremors that make my breath shake, like hypothermic temperatures have overridden this molten heat. I mean when your words are whispered to my lips in a savored flavor of July moon, I cannot help but allow you in. I mean when you lose your patience and give up the torturous denial, when your fingers finally do enter me, when my eyes become unfocused and lost, you should take a moment to feel me as I am feeling you— completely. I mean when my thighs straddle your waist and I am breathing rapidly through the slowness of it all, I want you to dig your nails into my hips, and fuck me like you know exactly what I mean. Let me trace vowels in your exhales. I mean tell me you think I’m pretty and then prove it <3

Inexperienced girlfriend x older dad bf to teach her <33

plsplsplsplsplsplspls

having a femme sit on my lap, my strap fully inside them as they whine and whimper into my neck struggling to take it. letting out little broken sobs as their body tremble like crazy, trying to mutter out “it’s too much” as tears form in their eyes

daddy and his pretty little one

just want to be played with until i'm crying n wrung out n sensitive is that really too much to ask for

too tired to do anything but be gently fucked into rn and cuddled until morning 🩷🩷