woah, weird. this report here says you need to fuck my cunt feral style in order to live. no, no. I'm serious. it's critical that you mount my hips and ram your cock in me like a dog in heat or else you're like literally going to die. we gotta follow instructions, ya know
bored, mean girl college cheerleader giving a handjob to the loser geek virgin goonette in the private study room. cheerleader looking away, scrolling on their phone, talking a mile a minute about anything and everything but what they're doing.
"yeah, so i think I'm going to go with the pink top tonight. the one that i showed you earlier. you remember, right? i texted it to you this morning."
soft hands stroking her under the table to a steady rhythm. the geek covers her mouth with her hand and nods, thinking about the photo the cheerleader had sent. low cut top with a lacy black bra peeking through, the way it clung tightly to their waist.
"ugh, Taylor keeps asking me what I think about her new boyfriend. I could never understand dating someone like that; he's so boring."
she doesn't even remember who Taylor is. It seems like they're maybe friends? or fake friends? or former roommates? she holds in a gasping moan. the cheerleader's tits are bouncing a little from the jerking motion. it's making their top ride up, enough to just barely see the underwire of their bra.
"should I get the mauve or blush lip? nevermind, it's not like you'd know the difference."
she leans in a little to see. both colors look laughably similar. either one would look great on the cheerleader, though. the image of a trail of light pink kiss marks along the underside of her dick...she thrusts into the cheerleader's hand.
she's taller than them. she could probably overpower them if she tried hard enough. force them to their knees, hook her thumbs in their mouth and hold it open, just slide it in...get them to finally shut up for once. she's sure their throat feels much better than the stroker at home. but maybe that isn't enough.
the cheerleader's pencil skirt is one of those extra tight kinds, short enough that it could pass for a belt. the door to the study room is locked. students rarely come up to this floor.
she could probably tip the cheerleader's chair over, get them on the floor. pull up the skirt...move the thong to the side. always thongs. they may as well ditch underwear altogether at this point.
what a wonderful way to lose it. while they're kicking and thrashing, regretting every passive-aggressive, annoying, vapid thing they've ever said, while their mascara smears and their hair gets mussed by the cheap carpet. it has to be missionary. mating press. she would have to see their face. definitely would have to record it. maybe even post it online later.
the geek leans in even more, contemplating. she's already so close. if she put it in, she'd probably finish after only two or three thrusts.
"are you about to come?" asks the cheerleader, finally looking her way. "you wish you were inside me, don't you?"
she can't take it anymore. she lets out a strained groan. she comes. it gets on the cheerleader's thigh. they roll their eyes and reach in their purse for a napkin. their phone buzzes. it's Taylor.
"oh, my god, heyyy, girl! no i'm not busy, i'm just studying with my tutor...yeah..."
her chest heaves. she swallows, exhales, and then cleans herself up.
sitting in someone’s lap with my back to their chest but they have a hand around my throat or they’re groping my tits and they’re fingering me or using a vibe on me and slapping my cunt when i get too close and and and
I think there's a big spectrum of "feeling like a dog" that goes from being a small puppy who everyone loves and pats all the time, and being a huge feral hound who has to be muzzled and leashed for the safety of everyone around them
many princesses have been shamed for being princesses, told its embarrassing and spoiled and that no one will ever love them. it is your job as knights to break this rhetoric in their heads. tell them you want them to be a princess, praise them and tell them how good they are doing.
so many pretty princesses want to be pretty princesses, but it’s been pushed on their heads that being a princess is wrong. brave knights must remind them that it’s okay, that they can trust their knights.
you have to remind them that they don’t always have to carry the world on their shoulders. they can let go of the royal duties sometimes and let themselves be pretty princesses.
it is very hard for princesses to do this, but you have to keep pushing them and reminding them how good they are. they might resist, they might tell you they are embarrassed that they like being called pretty princesses. remember that it’s a good embarrassment, it fills their deep wants. some princesses haven’t been treated as princesses before, and it’s new for them, so be patient with them. it is very hard for many princesses to let go, and sometimes they need their brave knights to hold their hand.
Mommy still has a lot of work to do, so why don't you come and sit on my strap while I finish it? You can sit there with me deep inside you but don't you dare move or even think about trying to touch yourself! I can't have any distractions. I may have to touch your breasts when I get frustrated or even twist your sensitive little nipples, but you just have to take it like a good girl. Can you do that for your Mommy? Will you be a good girl?
mutual obsession?? call me when you’re touching yourself because you can’t cum without hearing my voice. make me beg even when i’ve been good because you need me to be desperate for you. have me completely addicted to your praise while you obsess over how much i would let you get away with, how far i would let you go with me. let’s keep each other marked with possessive hickeys and bruises. tie me up since my hands are useless when you are around and you love seeing me completely at your mercy. fuck me so thoroughly that i don’t even bother touching myself anymore, knowing that nothing i do will ever feel quite as good as you. pleaseee?