#extradirty
JVL
JBB: An Artblog!
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noise dept.
pixel skylines
oozey mess
Discoholic 🪩
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
KIROKAZE
One Nice Bug Per Day
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
h
macklin celebrini has autism
Kiana Khansmith
tannertan36
Jules of Nature
art blog(derogatory)
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@gentle-sadist2
New blog, same shadow.
41, calm voice, sharp mind
Name: says enough
Location: cold, rainy, fucked up
Blog: not made for the masses
18+ only or I’ll block you.
I see more than I say.
Ask, if you must. I don’t chase.
Backup-Account
I want to mark you in a way people notice before you say a word. Not loudly. Not cheaply. Just enough that something about you looks claimed. My princess when you behave. My pretty little bunny when you get soft. And something much worse when your thoughts stop pretending they are innocent. That is the part I like. The contrast. Sweet enough to be held. Filthy enough to be kept hidden.
Your panties wrapped around my cock while I jerk off slowly, thinking about how pretty you’d look knowing exactly what I’m doing with them.
Good girls are just filthy girls with better discipline. And discipline breaks. Slowly at first. Then all at once. One breath turns into a whimper, one touch turns into trembling, and suddenly she is no longer hiding. She is used, wet, ruined, and too far gone to pretend she is anything but mine.
Imagine sleeping in my arms like you’re on a cloud, skin on skin, breathing so soft, then waking up confused and needy while I’m already deep inside you, one hand keeping your mouth shut, whispering, shhhh, don’t make a sound, little toy.
I want you beside me, pretending to listen to your friends while your hand slowly works me through my jeans. Feel me get hard and let that little smile give you away. You love that part, don’t you? Knowing it is because of you. Open me just enough, wrap your hand around my cock, stroke me slow, thumb rubbing over the precum, tongue teasing the tip when you get too greedy to wait. Look me in the eyes while you do it. Proud. Needy. Like being this filthy for me feels natural.
i don’t want perfect. perfect is boring. i want her flushed, ashamed, greedy, too soft to argue, looking up like she hates how safe she feels being treated like a filthy little mess.
Run if you want. Hide if you need to. But when I catch you behind that tree, I’m going to tie you there and use you the way you wanted when you whispered the rules into my ear. Cry all you want, darling. Your body will still confess.
I like testing her when we are out. Quietly. Nothing obvious. Just standing too close, saying the wrong thing softly enough that only she hears it. Watching her shy little smile try to survive what I just put in her head. She keeps acting normal. Cute. Like I do not notice the way her breathing changes. Like I do not know exactly where her thoughts went the second my voice got lower. That is the part I like. Making her carry the filth in public while she still has to look innocent.
It is not just that I am taller. It is that I can make you feel it. My shadow over you. My hands on you. My body forcing yours to understand the difference. You would be so little beneath me, so easy to pin, so easy to use, so pretty when your soaking holes finally stop fighting and start taking me like they were made to be ruined.
There is something filthy about an intelligent girl turning dumb the second she realizes her body is easier to control than her mouth. One moment she’s articulate, proud, difficult. The next she’s just a soft little mess, blinking like thinking has become too expensive.
When you slap your cock against her tongue slowly, watching her pride die in such a pretty little way.
balance is key ; in regards to one of your posts about submission shouldnt be super easy. i def agree. keep em on their toes, break for the woods sometimes ladies 🤭
A little challenge is healthy.
Hand in their hair. Mirror in front of them. No hiding now. That is the ugly little part they forget to ask for. Being made to see exactly what wanting does to them. The flushed face. The broken composure. The way pride disappears first, then the rest follows. “Look at you.” Not because they look pretty. Because they look honest.
That kind of hunger where thinking becomes useless. Where both of you already know the night is going to get ugly in the best way. No pretending. No polite little limits on desire. Just two people so deep in each other’s heads that “too dirty” stops sounding like a warning and starts sounding like an invitation. That is the dangerous part. When lust does not feel like impulse anymore. It feels like something that has been waiting too long to behave.
This is what happens when someone leads without taking advantage. She does not shrink. She settles. Her shoulders drop. Her mind stops preparing for the catch. No fear. No debt. No punishment hidden under care. Just someone steady enough to hold the control without getting drunk on it. That is rare. Most people want power because they are hungry. The right one leads because he can be trusted not to feed on what she gives him.
