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harmonyofpainters · 11 months

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Unleashed Naturally

Creativity is a fundamental human trait, ingrained in our DNA. It is the force that drives innovation, fuels imagination, and sets us apart from other species on this planet. Yet, despite its inherent presence within us all, many individuals struggle to tap into their natural creativity and express it fully. In today’s fast-paced world, where productivity and efficiency reign supreme, we often…

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#assignment08 #writingwithheart #writing #writing training

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buginateacup · 6 months

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#just writing things #ya girl's back on the smut train

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becca-e-barnes · 9 months

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Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

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dragonsxbutterflies · 7 days

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I think there needs to be a free use society where sluts are used whenever doms see fit.. like I could be in my uni class when another student decides he's horny, and so I have to cockwarm him while we both watch the lecture.. orrr maybe my professor decides she needs a wet hole to play while she grades papers, so she makes me lay out in front of her and fuck myself for her amusement... me and some friends could be out for dinner when all of the sudden out seats are taken away and bought back with various toys on them that we must sit on for the enjoyment of the other guests..

I just think that'd be fun 🙈

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braxiatel · 2 months

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Enough grumbo AUs where Mumbo is a diehard Ariana Griande fan. More grumbo AUs where global musical sensation Ariana Griande is absolutely obsessed with this little freak of a man she found under a rock one time

#/light hearted and silly #everyone keep writing the aus that make you happy #I love to be on the train on my way to work #typing unhinged things on my phone where anyone might read them over my shoulder #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #grumbo #mumbo jumbo #Grian #ariana griande #the void collection

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thevoidstaredback · 2 months

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Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Storyboard Part 2

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master-xochimilli · 2 months

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Puppy training where I teach them to be a good doggie for me, to be a good pup and fuck my desperate wet hole with their throbbing puppy cock. Yanking on their leash to have them rut into me faster, kissing them, feeling their pretty barks melt into desperate moans against my lips.

Saying come on puppy~ Fuck your owner, give your sir a nice fucking load of puppies, make my tummy bulge with your cum~ as I pull yet another orgasm from their shaking body, yanking on their leash again. I won't let my lovely doggie stop breeding me until we're both a shaking overstimulated fucked out mess~

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thefirsthogokage · 1 year

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Great thread by John Rogers on why writers need to be on set for TRAINING purposes, written late on May 6th, 2023:

(click to enlarge and probably for better quality)

(link to first tweet)

Bonuses:

Link to John's thread about having writers on set for DIALOGUE.

#john rogers #writing tips #wga strong #wga strike #training writers #writing for visual media

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niby-rh · 1 year

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Egg

C’était une nuit d’étoiles filantes, j’étais seul dans mon appartement et j’avais besoin de prendre un peu l’air et cet événement était parfait. Je suis donc sorti faire un tour avant de trouver un endroit où m'installer pas très loin de là où j'habite.

Installé, je regarde le ciel, préoccupé et anxieux. L’air est frais, l’herbe est haute. Je m’y enfouis, toujours la tête lourde, et mon regard plongea dans le ciel étoilé.

Les mauvaises pensées revenaient, même en me concentrant sur cette belle pluie d’étoiles.

Et puis, quelque chose dans le ciel me fit revenir dans l’instant présent, heureusement, car un point lumineux plus intense que les autres, se mis à grossir, comme ci il s'approchait.

Je me redressais. Des sueurs froides me firent frissonner de peur, quand je me rendis compte que j’avais vu juste. Une grosse boule de feu, accompagnée de plusieurs autres petites, se dirigeaient vers moi.

Je commence à courir jusqu'à chez moi, je prends quelques affaires, dont mon téléphone.

Tout en courant hors de l’immeuble, je vois beaucoup de mes voisins affolés, certains sont déjà partis en voiture.

Je regarde mon téléphone et cherche des informations concernant l’événement.

Une page d’un journal territorial en parle, il y a que quelque minute de ça, je regarde le ciel, l’astre se rapproche, j’ai peut-être encore le temps.

Je cours pour ma vie. Une peur immense me submerge, mélangée à l'adrénaline. Ce cocktail désagréable me remonte dans la gorge, ce qui la fait se serrer. J’ai le souffle lourd, tout est trouble autour de moi, les larmes me montent aux yeux. Autour de moi, la panique envahit les rues.

Puis, le silence. Je jette un regard par dessus mon épaule, vers le ciel et… Plus rien.

Je me réveille, les yeux lourd et avec mal à la tête. Je regarde autour de moi, je suis dans un lit d'hôpital, je touche mon front et remarque un pansement.

Je me redresse, j’ai les jambes engourdies, je retire le drap et m’assoit sur le rebord du lit, toujours un peu sonné, je tente de sortir du lit, avec succès. Je prends les deux béquilles proches du lit et je pousse le rideau qui occulte la vue.

D'autres patients sont parqués dans des espaces dédiés.

Pas beaucoup de bruit à l'extérieur de la salle. J'aperçois un infirmier et me dirige vers celui- ci.

Je lui pose quelques questions, perturbé d’être ici, sans savoir ce qu’il s’est passé. Il me répond plusieurs météorites ont dévasté une grande partie de la ville, il ya de ça, quatre semaines, et qu’il y a eu beaucoup de victimes et quelques morts.

Abasourdi, je ne répond pas.

Je m’assois sur le sol, dévasté. L’infirmier me soutient et me propose de l’eau. J’accepte volontiers.

Je repars le lendemain, les jambes frêles. Je regarde autour de moi. La vie semble avoir repris son cours. Je soupire, toujours sous le choc. Ma maison est dévastée.

Je sors mon téléphone, celui-ci a pris un choc mais reste utilisable. J’appelle un ami pour trouver ou me loger. Il me propose de venir chez lui.

Je sais que plus rien ne sera comme avant.

__↓🇬🇧↓__

It was a night of shooting stars, I was alone in my flat and needed some fresh air and this event was perfect. So I went out for a walk before finding a place to settle down not too far from where I live.

As I settled in, I looked up at the sky, concerned and anxious. The air is cool, the grass is high. I sank into it, still with a heavy head, and my gaze plunged into the starry sky.

The bad thoughts came back, even as I concentrated on the beautiful rain of stars.

Then something in the sky brought me back to the present moment, fortunately, because a point of light, more intense than the others, began to grow, as if it were approaching.

I sat up. Cold sweat made me shiver with fear, when I realized that I had seen right. A large fireball, accompanied by several smaller ones, was heading towards me.

I started to run back to my house, grabbing a few things, including my phone.

As I run out of the building, I see many of my neighbours in a panic, some of whom have already left in their cars.

I look at my phone and search for information about the event.

I look up at the sky, the star is getting closer, maybe I still have time.

I run for my life. An immense fear overwhelms me, mixed with adrenaline. This unpleasant cocktail rises in my throat, making it tighten. My breath is heavy, everything around me is blurred, tears are welling up in my eyes. Around me, panic invades the streets.

Then, silence. I look over my shoulder, to the sky and... nothing.

I wake up, my eyes heavy and my head hurts. I look around, I am in a hospital bed, I touch my forehead and notice a bandage.

I sit up, my legs are numb, I take off the sheet and sit on the edge of the bed, still a bit stunned, I try to get out of bed, with success. I take the two crutches close to the bed and push the curtain that obscures the view.

Other patients are parked in dedicated spaces.

Not much noise outside the room. I see a nurse and go towards him.

I ask him some questions, disturbed to be here, without knowing what happened. He tells me that several meteorites have devastated a large part of the city, four weeks ago, and that there have been many victims and some deaths.

Stunned, I don't answer.

I sit on the floor, devastated. The nurse supports me and offers me some water. I accept willingly.

I leave the next day, my legs weak. I look around me. Life seems to have resumed its course. I sigh, still in shock. My house is devastated.

I take out my phone, it has taken a shock but is still usable. I call a friend to find somewhere to stay. He offers me to come to his house.

I know that nothing will ever be the same again.

#writing #french writing #writing training

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baddywronglegs · 20 days

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The train doors opened and the wizard stepped aboard.

He looked down the carriage with a sigh, taking in the rows of full seats, uninterested faces. Not one of these people wanted to give up their place for a tired old man, however extravagant and pointy a hat he wore.

He took a swig of the coffee from the platform, chewed the grounds, and marched up to the first row of seats.

“Excuse me, child,” he rasped, leaning over a man clearly in his thirties, who spent a gallant amount of time pretending not to notice he was being spoken to by the owner of the beard currently tangling itself in his own. “Where do you get off?”

The man frowned. “Doncaster.”

The wizard stood upright again and raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Change trains to Leeds.”

“Ah,” the wizard said sagely. “So it is not Doncaster you want to be in but Leeds.”

“I guess?”

“Splendid.” The wizard threw his empty cup over his shoulder where it fizzled out of existence, threw wide his arms, and brought them together with an almighty clap – right where the Leeds-bound man would have been, had he not in that instant been replaced with a sprinkling of purplish glitter.

The wizard eased himself into the now vacant seat. His new seat-mate took an earbud from her ear, staring in shock at what had just happened beside her.

“What just happened?”

“I sent him to Leeds,” the wizard said levelly. “I’ve done worse.”

“You teleported him?”

“I wanted a seat, he wanted to be in Leeds, it worked out best for both of us.”

“But if you can teleport people why didn’t you just teleport yourself?”

You can hide a lot of things in a beard. A smug smirk, a thoughtful curl of the lip, a scowl – but like a tiger in the long grass, it’s the movement from one to the other that gives them away.

“Look I paid a lot for this ticket,” he muttered at length. “And I can only do that once a day so we’re stuck together until one of us gets off, so just put that thing back in your ear and let me have this one.”

#writing #trains

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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

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Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

#steddie #cj writes #steddie ficlet #hopping on the 'steve's parents aren't perfect but they mean well' train #cj talks #steve harrington's parents

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tea-cat-arts · 4 days

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Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #the fact that people think scum villain #-a series that examines and criticizes common tropes in fiction-#is somehow against criticism or being a little hater is wild to me #especially since shen qingqiu never gets punished for being a hater #heck- he's still a little hater by the end of the series #he mostly gets punished for treating life like a play and like he and the people around him are characters #(or in other words- he suffers for denying his own wants and emotions and his own sense of empathy)#I think some of y'all underestimate how much writing/art is inspired by creaters being little haters #like example off the top of my head-#the author of Iron Widow has been pretty vocal about the book being inspired by their hatred of Darling in the Franxx #I think my interpretation of Shen Yuan's transmigration is also supported by the fact that this series is an examines writing processes #side note- though i understand why people say Shen Yuan is lazy and think its a valid take it still doesnt sit right with me #i am probably biased because my own experiences with chronic pain and depression and isolation #but ya- i dont think Shen Yuan is lazy so much as he is deeply lonely and feels purposeless after denying parts of himself for 20ish years #like yall remember the online fandom boom from covid right?#being stuck completely alone in bed while feeling like shit for 20 days straight does shit to your brain #the fact that no one came to check on him + he wasn't exactly upset about leaving anyone behind supports the isolation interpretation too #+in the skinner demon arc he describes his life of being a faker/inability to stop being a faker now that he's Shen Qingqiu #as “so bland he's tempted to throw salt on himself” and “all he could do is lay around and wait for death” (<-paraphrasing)#bro wants to be doing stuff but is stuck in paralysis from repeatedly following scrips made by other people #another point on “Shen Yuan isn’t lazy” is just the sheer amount of studying that man does #also he did graduate college- how lazy can he really be #he doesnt know what hes doing but he at least tries to actively train his students #and he actually works on improving his own cultivation + spends quite a bit of time preping the mushroom body thing #+he's experiencing bouts of debilitating chronic pain throughout all this #but ya tldr: Shen Yuan's transmigration is an encouragement to write and not a punishment and also i dont think its fair to call him lazy

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the-bar-sinister · 1 month

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First whumper uses physical violence to train whumpee. Pain is the great teacher.

When whumpee has been trained to respond to pain, then the actual violence isn't needed. Then all whumper needs is the threat of violence, and whumpee responds.

When whumpee has been trained to respond to the threat of violence, then whumper doesn't need to threaten anymore.

After that, whumper trains whumpee to the implication of violence.

The subtle cues. No one but whumpee would even know that whumper was making a threat.

Even a gentle smile can be an implicit threat.

And whumpee responds.

Whumpee has been taught.

Later-- much later-- caretaker has to work to understand why some of their innocent actions and gestures make recovering whumpee flinch, and jump.

#whumblr #whump #whump community #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump scenario #whump tropes #whump writing #caretaker #whumpblr #whumper #whumpee #darkfic #dark fic #whumpee training #💻🔪

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albertserra · 7 days

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The Question of Palestine by Edward Said, 1979.

#the question of Palestine #Edward said #lit #every time he writes something that is still perfectly applicable today I want to throw myself off the train #and this happens like. every other page #if not more

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master-xochimilli · 2 months

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I need to get my hands on my pretty little pup, seeing their eyes light up with each good boy~ I whisper into their ear. Tracing my fingers down his pretty body all the way down to his needy throbbing little cock as I bite and mark them up

Telling him what a pretty boy he is, such a cute eager little boyslut for me he is as I rub his cock, kissing them and telling him how good of a boy he is as I slowly stretch out his dripping hole, getting darling little moans and whines in return~

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submissivequinn2 · 2 months

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✨ Can I shake my udders for you? 🐮

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