𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙖. she/her. latina, bruja, twenty3, & depraved writer of loser men.

𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪’𝙨 𝙨𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠 .ᐟ 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙣’𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙙 .ᐟ 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡’𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧 .ᐟ 𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙤’𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚 .ᐟ 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣’𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 .ᐟ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 & 𝙘𝙤𝙬𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙖𝙨𝙩.

𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣. about / directory / library / side blog.

men who aren’t afraid to have make out sessions with your cunt. their tongues rolling and swirling and lapping at every puffy fold and slick crevice. their noses nudging at the hood of your clit, inhaling the addictive sweetness of your arousal. their arms curling around your thighs, forcing your legs to stay nice and open as you hump their tongue through an orgasm, body trembling from the shocks of pleasure. they’d rather die than pull away, growing annoyed as you beg them to give you a break. why should they stop? they have a perfectly good meal in front of them thats plate still needs to be licked clean.

thinking about men who read your romantic novels aloud to you, acting as your personal narrator. they’d impersonate the characters, twisting their tongues and enunciating each spoken word in the character’s faux accent. their pitch rising each time they read through the main female character’s perspective. they’d make a whole show of it, entertaining you with their perfomance while adding a few verbal annotations to the script. the only thing they’d ask for in return is for your warm mouth to be wrapped around their shaft while they read, your tongue rolling along the bumpy edges of the mushroom tip as you rest between their legs. they’d give your head a pet at the end of each chapter, an eyebrow raised as his cock twitched in your mouth, your pleading words for him to “read another chapter” reverberating around his cock.

forcing satoru gojo to suck on your fingers because he’s way too loud whenever you fuck. you’d often become annoyed with him, fed up with constantly having to remind satoru to stay quiet ss you fucked yourself on his cock. you’d shove your fingers in his mouth, stuffing his mouth full to finally silence the high-pitched moans and groans that escaped him with each roll of your hips. his blue eyes would roll back, pale cheeks now blushing bright red as drool leaked around your fingers. his tongue would lap and swirl around the digits, forcing them deeper down his throat as your cunt swallowed his cock with messy squelches. he’d suck harder as he cums, body trembling between your thighs as he fills you up with his sticky load, his mind too far fucked out to think about anything other than how perfect, and warm, and wet your cunt feels around him.

thinking about simon riley who’d squeeze himself to fit between your thick thighs in a tight spot. he’d be far too big, crowding up the entirety of your space with his massive frame. the skin between your legs would burn, growing sore and reddened as he slipped into you. the coarse hair of his legs rubbing painfully against you with each pathetic roll of his tired hips. your legs would be locked around his waist, the space far too tiny for either of you to be able to move comfortably. he’d hump your cunt, cock barely pistoning you as it nudged your gspot. your clit pressed against his hairy pelvis. he’d spill into you within seconds, coating your gummy walls with his thick load, cock softening inside of you. he’d whisper a small “thank you” before collapsing on your chest, his ash blonde hair tickling the underside of your chin before the whistle of a snore fills the air.

“don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like that. you’re going to make me cum quick.”

the gooey muscles of your walls clenched around simon’s cock, strangling the flow of blood coursing through its prominent veins. a deep growl rumbled through his chests, brown eyes fluttering shut to avoid your heated gaze. “you’re going to be the death of me.” he hissed through gritted teeth as he turned his head away, nostrils flaring in annoyance as your walls contracted around him.

your cunt drew him in further, his hairy pelvis nuzzled against your heat. thoroughly soaked with your sticky arousal. your nails scratched at the back of his shoulders, digging into the curved flesh of his spine. his hips rocked into you nice and slow, drawing out the moment for as long as humanly possible.