Popular Post Ha**** Posted May 29 Popular Post I don’t get wet because you want me to. I get wet when I feel safe. When your voice wraps around me like silk. When your gaze doesn’t rush. When your hands hover just long enough to let me crave the contact. When I can feel the weight of your patience dripping off your fingers. I get wet when I know I’m not being sized up, but seen. You won’t know it at first. I don’t open fast. I need to feel the space around me soften. I need to know your touch won’t ask for things my body isn’t ready to give. I move slowly—not to tease, but to taste. To decide. To feel. You can call it mysterious. Cold. Difficult. I call it sacred. Because once I do open? There’s nothing soft about my hunger. I want to be kissed so deeply my knees shake. I want to be taken with intention, not assumption. I want your hand around my throat—not because it’s hot, but because you know when to tighten, and when to let go. I want to be fucked in a way that makes me forget where I end and you begin. I want to be laid out, trembling, soaked, aching—and know that you earned every drop of it. I want to be handled. Stretched. Spoken to like I belong on my knees but only for you. I want your fingers between my legs while you whisper how good I taste, how soft I melt, how loud you want me. But only after you’ve made me feel safe enough to fall apart. See, I don’t give my body to someone who doesn’t know how to hold it. You have to show me you’re steady. That your desire isn’t fragile. That my slowness doesn’t scare you. That my softness doesn’t bore you. That my depth doesn’t make you flinch. And once I know that? Once I feel your hunger isn’t louder than your care? I’ll give you everything. I’ll beg for more with my mouth wide open. I’ll spread my thighs and pull you in deeper. I’ll take your grip, your tongue, your cock like I’ve been waiting my whole life to be filled that way. I’ll ride the edge, clench around you, cry your name, and still ask for more. And I won’t hold back. Because I never wanted to be touched—I wanted to be known. I never needed fast. I needed real. So if you want me, don’t rush. Don’t push. Don’t reach for shortcuts. Slow down. Lock eyes. Ask nothing—and feel everything. Show me you can hold the weight of my want. And I’ll show you what it means to be fucked open by someone who chose you.
GreyHog Posted May 30 Passion is the common ground - physical, emotional, mental. Respect and trust lead to consent. Passion unleashed with consent and a strong dynamic is undeniable and fulfilling.
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