instructionsforboys:

Fuck yes, move that body, put on a show for your man, show off. You know you love the attention

If I could actually make coherent noises right now that weren’t mostly vowels or an array of moans, I would say to you that you’re either an idiot or naiive. I really think you’re just naiive. Do you not realize I’m not acting here? That it’s not a dance, or a performance. I’m not undulating around on the floor to appease you or to prop up your already puffed ego. I’m not being generous and trying to hide displeasure from an underwhelming fucking by over-compensating. 

I’m not moving like this on my own. My body is moving beyond the control of my mind, on its own, in response to the pleasure you are giving me. The way you fill me with your pillar of a cock and press your weight to my back side makes me hornier than a doe in heat. Did you notice I”m only half hard? I’m losing my mind here just by the way you’re stimulating my prostate. I can’t sit still, I can’t run away. This lust courses through my veins with no where to go, no way to disperse. Yet, I want more, oh god so much more, and I want it harder and deeper and slower and god do everything you can to me.

Do you think being on this floor on my knees is comfortable? You think I can’t smell the Pinesol under my nose? Don’t you realize none of it matters, because you’re fucking me so well that my brain has turned off that feedback so it can focus on the more interesting stuff? And it is interesting. It’s also driving me insane. Don’t say stupid shit to me while I’m in ecstasy. Mostly because I don’t want you to cheapen yourself. Why? Right now you are a God to me. Fucking act like it.

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Text is fictional.