queue-balls:

Tongue out, strokers. Eyes up. It doesn’t matter if you want to taste his cum. It doesn’t matter if you’re quivering and raw from the fucking he just gave you. It doesn’t matter that your favorite drug is running down your face, “wasted,” just inches away from your desperate, horny mouth. You let him mark you with his cum however he wants, and thank him with your eyes. You’re his property. You take what he gives you.
And nothing feels better than a hot, sticky reminder.

queue-balls:

Tongue out, strokers. Eyes up. It doesn’t matter if you want to taste his cum. It doesn’t matter if you’re quivering and raw from the fucking he just gave you. It doesn’t matter that your favorite drug is running down your face, “wasted,” just inches away from your desperate, horny mouth. You let him mark you with his cum however he wants, and thank him with your eyes. You’re his property. You take what he gives you.

And nothing feels better than a hot, sticky reminder.