Unbound Acceptance

Give yourself to me and 
I’ll give myself to you.
It doesn't matter what people think,
we’ll do whatever it is we want to do.

I sweep across your eyelids a
dark shade of blue,
paint your lips a ruby red;
oh, such a beautiful hue!
When we go out in public people
look at us like we’re a couple of freaks.

But it's alright ‘cuz we already know
we’re unique.
When the urge arises I'm not afraid
to display my affection for all to see.
No timidity;

I just set my passion free.
I feel something harden against me
when our mouths meet, but oops!
That's what happens when we turn up the heat.

The way you look in that dress arouses me,
affects me physiologically.

Are you feeling the same way I'm feeling
‘cuz right about now I wanna
get down to some sexual healing.

Obedience Unlocked

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The Ache You Left Behind

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Ruined Like You Asked

I shut the door behind us, and it’s like flipping a switch.

She’s still standing there in that dress—soft blue, short, innocent.
Her mouth says nothing, but her body screams.
Tense thighs. Bare legs. Lips parted like she wants to be fed.

I step forward, slowly. Let the silence stretch.

“You’ve been teasing me since brunch,” I say, voice low.
“You think I didn’t see you squirming in your seat like a wet little thing?”

Her breath catches. I don’t wait for an answer.

“Take off the dress. Slowly.”

She obeys.
She always does.

Fingers tremble as she unzips it, slipping it down inch by inch.
No panties—good girl. I taught her well.

Her nipples are hard, her inner thighs glistening, and fuck—she’s beautiful.
Obedient. Edged with need.
Her silence is part of the game. Part of her offering.

“You liked sitting across from me like this?”
I stalk toward her, circling. “Full of my cum, pretending to be polite?”

She nods once, shivering.

“I could’ve fingered you under that table,” I whisper into her hair.
“Made you cum while the waiter refilled your coffee.”

A small sound escapes her throat. I grab her jaw.

“No. Not yet. You’ll speak when I say, cum when I say, break when I say.”

She gasps as I spin her around and slam her back to the door.

Her legs wobble. I press my body against hers, one hand snaking between her thighs.
Soaked.

“Fucking dripping. You sat through an entire meal like this?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpers.

I don’t praise her. Not yet.

Instead, I lift her dress—just enough to expose her—and unbuckle my belt with one hard, deliberate motion.

The sound alone makes her moan.

I line myself up behind her, one hand gripping her throat from behind, the other pinning her wrist to the door.
And I take her.

No warning. No buildup.

Just a brutal thrust, full and deep—she chokes on a cry, her body arching against mine.

She’s so tight it’s fucking unreal.
Hot, trembling, soaking wet, wrapped around me like a vice.
Perfect.

I slam into her again. And again.
The door rattles. Her moans echo off the walls, raw and shameless.

“You wanted this,” I growl into her ear.
“Wanted to be wrecked, used, stuffed full again.”

She nods, gasping.

“You were such a sweet little thing at brunch,” I sneer.
“All polite and glowing. But this is what you are.”
I thrust harder. “A mess. My mess.”

She cries out when I slap her ass.
It stings loud and sharp, and her cunt clenches around me like she’s about to cum.

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” I snap.
“Hold it.”

She whimpers, her hands clawing at the door like it might save her.
It won’t.

I grab her by the hair and pull her upright against me.
“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sir.”

“Who owns your holes?”

“You do.”

“Then cum for me now.”

She explodes—moaning, screaming, falling apart as I fuck her through it.
Legs shaking, eyes rolling back.

I don’t stop until I feel her pulse around me.
I thrust deep one final time and cum hard inside her, groaning as I fill her again.

Her body collapses against the door, spent and shaking.

I hold her there a moment longer, both of us breathing like we’ve run miles.

Then I gather her into my arms, lift her up—so light, so soft—and carry her to the couch.

I wrap her in a blanket, settle her on my lap. Her cheek rests against my chest.

I kiss the top of her head.

“You did well,” I murmur.
“So good. So fucking perfect.”

She doesn’t speak.
She doesn’t need to.

Her body says everything—
Safe.
Wrecked.
Loved.

Mine.

 

Wait is Over

Him (closing the door behind them):

Take off the dress. Slowly.

You’ve been teasing me since your first sip of coffee.

Did you think I wouldn’t notice?

Her (unzipping, lips parted):
I hoped you would.
I thought about you under the table.
My thighs were shaking for hours.

Him (stepping closer, lowering his voice):
And you were wet.
I could smell it when you crossed your legs.
You carried my want between your thighs like a secret offering.

Her (dress slipping down her hips):
I liked the ache.
Liked sitting there dripping with your come
while the world thought I was just glowing.

Him (brushing knuckles down her spine):
You walked beside me like you were mine.
Because you are.
You obeyed in silence, and that obedience was loud as sin.

Her (knees tightening):
Every word you said felt like pressure between my legs.
I wanted you to drag me into a corner
and remind me how I’m meant to be used.

Him (gripping her jaw):
You belong on your knees. Not for my pleasure—
but because it’s where you need to be.

Her (sinking, eyes wide, trembling):
I crave the weight of your hand in my hair.
The pull. The power.
I want your cock down my throat until I forget how to say “no.”

Him (unzipping):
Then open.
Let me fuck the good girl out of you with every inch.
You’ve been so obedient—
Now let me ruin that quiet.

Her (lips parted, desperate):
Yes, Sir.
I want to be wrecked.
I want to feel your need inside my mouth, my throat, my cunt.
I want to be nothing but yours.

Him (thumbing her lip, voice like gravel):
And you will be.
From the bruises I left last night
to the tremble in your breath now—
everything you are belongs to me.

Her (whispering):
Then take it.
Take all of me.
Break me open until there’s nothing left but your name in my mouth.

Him (pulling her up, slamming her to the door):
You’ve begged for this all day.
Now I’m going to ruin you properly.

Beneath the Table

Him (sipping coffee, gaze steady):

You’ve been shifting in your seat for an hour.

Is your cunt still full from last night, or are you just aching for more?

Her (blushing, voice velvet):
Both.
It’s hard to focus when I’m leaking into my thighs, Sir.
You marked me deep.

Him (smiling faintly):
Good.
Every step you take is a reminder:
You’re used.
You’re owned.

Her (tracing the rim of her glass):
And every word you say drags me deeper.
I feel your voice like a hand between my legs.

Him (leaning in slightly):
If I slipped my hand under that dress right now—
Would I find you dripping?

Her (swallowing hard):
Yes.
You wouldn’t even need to touch.
Just your fingers near me would make me tremble.

Him (voice low, calm, deadly):
You want me to wreck you again, don’t you?
Right here.
Right now.
If I told you to excuse yourself and wait for me in the restroom—
Would you?

Her (breath hitching):
Yes, Sir.
Without question.

Him (smiling into his coffee):
But not yet.
No.
You’ll sit there and suffer for me.
Smile when the waiter speaks.
Pretend you’re not soaked and ruined and mine.

Her (legs crossing tighter):
You’re cruel.
And I’m aching for it.

Him (brushing fingers over her wrist):
You’re glowing.
Everyone thinks it’s love.
But we know better.
You’re in heat, little one—
And I’ll be the one to put that fire out when we get home.

Her (whispering, desperate now):
How long do I have to behave?

Him (grinning darkly):
Until I’m done enjoying your restraint.
And then I’ll bend you over the nearest surface and fuck the good girl out of you.

Her (a shaky exhale):
Yes, Sir.

Her Wordless Obedience

She doesn’t speak a word of submission.

She doesn’t need to.

From the moment we step inside the café, her entire body shifts.
Her posture softens—but it’s not weakness. It’s surrender. The kind she offers only to me.

She walks a half-step behind me. Not overt, but intentional.
It tells me she’s in her space—that gentle headspace where she’s attuned only to my voice, my presence, my permission.

When we sit, she waits—just long enough—for me to gesture before settling into her seat.

A tiny glance, upward and sideways, barely noticeable to anyone else.
But I see it.
It’s her asking: May I?
I nod. She exhales.

Her fingers trace the condensation on her glass as she listens to me speak.
It’s not idle—it’s grounding. She’s focused, but her world is narrowed. Quieted.

She doesn’t interrupt. Not once.
When she speaks, it’s measured. Thoughtful. Polished—but not performative.
Her tone is soft. Not shy—controlled.

And her eyes—God, those eyes.
They flick to my hands constantly. Watching for a gesture. A signal. A shift in my expression.

She reads me like scripture, and responds with the smallest of things:
—knees pressed a little tighter
—shoulders straighter when I look at her
—a subtle parting of her lips when I mention how she looks

Then there’s her collarbone.
Bare. Exposed beneath the dip of her dress.
She tugs it once—slowly. A silent reminder. I remember who I belong to.

Her coffee arrives.
She stirs it the way I like mine, even though it’s her cup.
Then she pushes it toward me, just a little.
An offering.
I take a sip. She smiles—satisfied, like she’s just pleased me with the smallest act of service.

There’s a moment—quiet but potent—when she shifts in her seat. Crosses her legs, uncrosses them. Her breathing changes.
I know that look.

She’s wet.
From just the tone of my voice and the memory of my hand on her throat the night before.
No one else sees it—but I know every flush in her cheeks, every tension in her thighs.

When I brush my foot against hers beneath the table, she freezes for a breath. Then relaxes into it.

After the Storm

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Her Late-Night Invitation

My phone buzzes. Midnight.

Three words on the screen:

“I’m alone.”

A pause. Then another:

“No panties.”

Then one more—

“Door’s unlocked.”

I don’t smile.
I don’t need to.
Because this isn’t an invitation.

It’s a surrender.

She knows what she’s doing—
using words like a leash,
pulling me in from across the city
with that sweet, aching need she only shows me.

I stand.
Grab my keys.
No hesitation.

Because I know what I’ll find:
Her — on the edge of obedience and desperation.

Knees drawn up.
Lips parted.
Pussy wet and waiting like a prayer.

She thinks she’s calling me over.
But really, she’s summoning the storm.

I won’t knock.
I never do.

I’ll walk through that door,
strip the silence from her room,
and remind her who she belongs to.

I’ll bend her over whatever surface is closest.
Sink into her without a word.

Fuck her until she remembers my name in gasps, not sentences.

Because when she says come over,
what she means is—

Take me.
Own me.
Don’t stop until I’m wrecked.

And I will.
Every time.

My Pussy begs to be Pounded

Fuck me until
My Pussy Bleeds
I'm a Sick Bitch
  I have Twisted Needs

My Asshole is Tight
It yearns to be Gaped
I'm such a Tease
  I deserve to be "RAPED"

I'm a Bad Girl
And I should be Spanked
My Pussy begs to be Pounded
My Hair cries to be Yanked

Call me Dirty Names
Put your hands around my Neck
Want to really Turn Me On
Then Show me no Respect

Fuck other Women
Tie me up and Make me Watch
Put my picture on Ebay
And Take Bids on my Crotch

I like being Nasty
It's what i do Best
My purpose is Clear
I'm here for you to "MOLEST"

His Unusual Request

He asked me for my used panties,
I couldn't believe what he said.

We were friends for a long time,
we talk about sex and relationships
we hangout in underwear
we were not shy or afraid.

We shared stories of our kinky deeds,
Talked about our private parts.
He knew when I was on my periods,
And even when I farted, it didn't keep us apart.

But when he asked for my panties,
I was shocked and surprised.
But the thought of it made me horny,
So I decided to oblige.

I wore it while I masturbated,
Made it smell of me all night.
Rubbed my pussy and played with it,
To make the gift just right.

I discharged my ovulation on it,
squirted multiple times thinking of us.
My panty was getting so smelly,
But I was still charged with sexual rhymes.

I wore it for two days without changing
I wanted it to be filled it with my smell
when the 3rd day came, it smelled so nasty,
anybody around me could tell

On the third day, I met him in a cafe.
wearing a short skirt and with a wink
I handed him my used panties.

And he took a long sniff, without a blink.
He said it smelled awesome,
And I giggled with delight.

I could tell he wanted to sniff it more,
Our friendship had reached a new height

Pussy Slick Throbbing Dick

Hearts afire 

Wild desire 

Pulse quickens 

Clit Thickens 

Pussy slick 

Throbbing Dick 

Passion Flames 

Together came 

Sheets wet 

Sexy sweat 

Ebb & flow 

Pulses slow 

Shivers deep 

Back to sleep

 

I like being yours

I like being yours,
when you tell me to suck you
while at the movies.

I become wet and throb,
then lean over, unzip you
and quickly suck you
into my eager mouth,
heart trembling,
cunt gushing,
from the thrill of maybe
being caught.

And maybe from knowing
I have no choice
but to obey.

I like being yours,
when suddenly,
you bend me over,
and quickly push
your stiff cock into
my glistening cunt,
and I have no power
to say no and
no will to resist.

I like being yours
when you use me.
I like being yours
when you bind me,
and hold me
captive to your will. 

Most of all
I like being yours,
because I know
you are mine.

Your Cum Erupt Inside Me

When I was opening my body to you,
I stretched out my body to the greatest extent. 

I crossed my hands under my head,
I lay on my back and looked at you,
Your eyes wandering over my body.
I never felt so shameless or free.

I wanted to open myself wider to you,
I wanted to merge into one with you. 

When you slid your hand down to my vagina,
I held your head tightly with my arms.
That was a moment when I felt 
we were almost one

To rub my burning face against yours,
To exhale my heavy breath near to your ear,
To be deeply drunk in your masculine smell,
To dance with you in the most instinct rhythm... 

To feel your rigid and eager cock 
penetrate my pussy
To feel the seamless coordination of our bodies
To feel your cum erupt inside of me….

There is nothing more I want,
There is nothing more I need,

But to open my body to you again and again.

What Will Happen Next ?

Your fingers Caressing
My Silk Creamy Skin,
Roaming around Freely,
Feeling every inch
of Yummy Flesh.

With your Eyes closed,
Imagining my Curves,
Breathing in Deeply
Your Steamy Hot Scent.

Your here, I'm here,
Both Together,
Wondering what
Will happen next.

Pleasurable Pace

Pretty Paramour
Pleasant Possibilities
Primal Potential

Prurient Purpose
Palpable Proclivity
Pleasurable Pace

Pondering Panties
Positioning Posterior
Playful Persuasion

Persistent Progress
Pleasuring Private Places
Poetic Promise

Probing Pudenda
Pure Prestidigitation
Prompts Passionate Praise

Pairing Perception
Perpetually Pushing
Passionate Plunging

Pounding Paradise
Profound Pulsating Pressure
Paladin Pleasure