I’d love to meet a girl off here and take her on a date.
I’d meet her on Tumblr, charming her with every message. I’d come off as friendly and endearing, flirting and sexting when appropriate. I’d learn her kinks and needs, twisting her into a wet, sopping mess with every text I send her. I’d make her think of me, filling her head with thoughts of my voice, my body, my cock in every waking moment. It’d be weeks, perhaps days, before we’d arrange to meet, a train journey or a bus ride away.
We’d meet in some cafe, exchanging warm smiles and hugs. That’s where it’d begin. She’d notice my hands lingering a little too long, a little too low, practically groping her. She’d simply shrug it off. She’d forget all about it while we’d sip on our coffees, exchanging friendly conversation. We’d mesh well off screen, laughing and joking the afternoon away.
I’d suggest a stroll through the woods, almost like an afterthought while we figure out how to spend the rest of the afternoon. We’d find ourselves, trudging along some narrow dirt pathway, the skies getting darker, the woods getting denser. And then it’d hit her. She barely knew me.
One second she’d be side-eyeing me cautiously, the next she’d be pinned against some tree in the lonely depths of the forest. She’d scream, the piercing scream of fear. I’d let her. No one would hear us.
She’d beg me to stop, to reconsider, but I’d tear down her cute skirt. Isn’t this what she wanted? She’d read my blog. She needed this just as much as my stiff, aching cock did. I’d hold her down, rubbing my cock against her bare ass, telling how hard she’d made me. What a good fucking girl she was for making her rapist’s cock ready to breed her. Her begging would turn feverish and constant, wishing this was some cruel joke.
I’d plunge my shaft inside her cunt, laughing as she struggles and fights against me. In and out, I’d wetten my cock in her, stirring up her insides with heavy, savage strokes. She’d feel her sanity slip away. She’d have chosen this. I’d convince her this was her fault. All those nights promising me what a good rapetoy she’d be for me. And she’d deliver on her promise, crying and sobbing, begging me to stop, struggling to fight her fate.
I’d rail her slick, broken twat while her face grates against the coarse bark, sinking my fingers into her soft, jiggly ass. Shit, I’d spank those perfect fucking spheres, watching them redden and ripple with each strike. I’d lovingly break her down into a set of holes, moulded to service my cock.
Thick ropes of cum would plaster her insides, leaking out of her weak frame. I’d throw her down and wipe my cock clean with her hair. In sweet, gentle tones, I’d ask her where she lived. I’d point out that she couldn’t walk right now, and that the night was drawing closer.
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
titsay
areudirty
