That’s not how you do it, silly slut. You don’t trace delicate circles, slide yo
That’s not how you do it, silly slut. You don’t trace delicate circles, slide your fingers up and down like you’re Picasso. Like you think you’re Picasso. Do you really think he was one to be delicate, to savour the moment and pick each brush stroke with precise care? Do you think that care is what you want? You don’t want to be careful. You want to be careless. You want to be rough, and ready, and oh so eager to please. You want to feel sore in an hour, and a day, and next week. You want your pleasure to be a lingering thing, something that you get little reminders of in the future, echoes that all ricochet from this moment, out into those. You don’t want to be delicate. You want power between your legs. You want my power. So I’ll do it for you. I’ll thrust my fingers between your legs, because mine are thicker, and they have intent behind them. They’re not about your pleasure, but the pleasure I get from watching you. I’ll be rough, because that makes you squirm. I’ll thrust thick fingers between plump lips, and you’ll gasp. I won’t be delicate. I’m not a painter, and you’re not a canvas. I’m the one who understands your baser needs, and you’re the beautiful slut that needs them catered for. -- source link
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