Surrender looks pretty on her. She’ll go far.
As far as the leash allows, anyway.
He found one of the very few women who knows how to thank a man who bought her a drink. This is what men want when they buy you a drink. They don’t want to get to know you and listen to your life story. They want to put their cock in one or more of your holes as soon as possible. That’s what you are from the first moment they see you. A set of holes.
In a sane world no-one would blink an eye.
In a sane world, the only drink a woman would get from a man is whatever comes out of his cock. The idea of paying, even indirectly, for sex may be a step in the right direction, but it’s hardly an end goal.
This just made me instantly soaking wet.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It’s his fault for being boring. His fault for not fucking you in the parking lot like the whore you are. Didn’t he know you were high? Didn’t he know you needed to get off? Was he stupid?! He’d taken you somewhere nice, opened the door for you! Politely! Pulled out a chair and asked boring date questions and told you your eyes looked pretty for the fiftieth time as you sucked down cocktails, thighs trembling, hands shaking, getting more edgy and sharp as the molly coursing through your system had made its demands. When he’d eventually gotten up to use the restroom you’d left, sticking him with the bill.
Now you’re sucking off strangers outside of a strip club on the other side of town. Its all his fault. Its his fault if it goes too far. His fault if you end up in a motel again, the entire weekend a blur of strange cock and bad drugs. Maybe this time you could stop at just sucking cock.Maybe.
Its his fault for making stupid Anniversary plans. Its all your husbands fault.