“The Gift” is still on the way but in the meantime….enjoy.
I want you to drive me crazy. Seriously.
I mean really crazy.
Tear my clothes off in public crazy.
Shout at the top of my lungs I want your dick in my ass now!
Begging for more when it’s all the way in Crazy.
Tears of lust and frustration and orgasm mingling while I beg for more pain and mercy within the same breath crazy.
If each thrust is like the crack of the whip, how many can you deliver before you tire?
Drive me crazy.
How hard, how fast, how long?
Until I am feverish crazy, so that I drool and spit and curse and apologize for sins not yet committed, crazy.
When I am just that crazy feed me.
Give me an ass to lick as you plow into me from behind, on my knees begging for more between the velvet softness in front of me.
Can you see it?
Can you see it clearly?
Me squirting across the room in a frenzy of lust, my hands on your ass, your mouth on my mouth, as you thrust and grip my hair into your fist, me slapping your thighs with my ass because I am convinced your can get your balls in too if you just try a little harder.
Did you doubt that I was a slut?
A climb on top of you while at the XXX theater slut, showing off how well I ride slut?
Covered in Vinyl with only my pussy and ass exposed so I have no other option but to feel what you want me to feel slut?
A suck you while you drive, fuck you on a picnic table, put another finger in my ass, finger me until your tips lose their sensation slut?
Arms bound above me, spreader bar opening me, clamps on my nipples and clit, with a gag in my mouth slut?
But not blindfolded so that I can see every implement of torture you have waiting for me and the fear makes me wet slut?
Did you doubt that when your hands were around my neck and the knife was circling my nipples, and my body trembled beneath you?
When I was bent over the spanking bench, tits swaying in the wind, trying to mount you through my pants?
Or when your hand was on my chest feeling it’s palpitations, seeing the lust in my eyes, and knowing that on that night the clock had struck 12, but on others we would toss the bitch out the window?
When did you doubt that the reaction was yours and yours alone?
You never should have, because you drive me crazy.