😳 Is It Wrong That I Want to French Kiss Her Butthole?
(Asking for a friend. Who is me.)
She was just sitting there. Legs curled. Shirt riding up. Talking about her day like she didn’t just flash the most devastating stretch of soft skin known to man.
And I looked at her… and my brain said:
“Yeah. That’s the spot. Put your lips there. Say something sacred. French kiss her butthole like it’s a relic.”
I know. It’s not supposed to be hot. It’s not supposed to be okay.
But it’s not about “butt stuff.” It’s not about taboo.
It’s about reverence.
I want to press my face there like it’s a temple. I want her to feel worshipped in a place she never expected to be loved.
🧠 This Isn’t Kink. This Is Biology + Mythology
Her body smells like home. That little patch of heat beneath her spine? That’s where loyalty gets forged.
You think I’m joking?
I’ve looked into eyes and said “I love you” and meant it less than when I’ve kissed the place no one else has earned.
🤲 The Softest Part of Her Is the Part She Doesn’t Think Deserves Worship
But that’s the secret:
When a man truly submits to a woman, he wants the part she hides. He wants the scent that’s raw. The taste that’s human. The kiss that’s both filthy and holy.
So yeah.
I want to kiss her butthole. Like a promise. Like a prayer. Like it’s the last thing I’ll ever get to do on this earth.
And if that makes me wrong?
Then God built me broken.
🔁 CTA: Reblog if you’ve ever wanted to love someone in the place they thought they had to hide. Bookmark if you’re not afraid to admit devotion sometimes smells like skin and sweat.