Writer’s Block (dry) = No Desire To Write, No Ability To Write (bearable)

meat man 🔪🥩

come get ur meats or whatever

I just think physical affection would fix me

Smoke and Mirror🪞

🌘Night routine: act 1

✷ Your Last Embrace ✷

GHOST IN “CARTEL PROTECTION” 🕶️ | MODERN WARFARE II

the floorboards creak under his weight, his knees burning n his joints aching from the weight of his muscles being pressed against the hardwood.

“baby,” his voice comes out low, but not low with its usual rasp and usual deep tone, its whispery and whiney. you can see the pout in his lips from where you sit at the edge of his bed, the slump of his broad shoulders, he looks so pathetically desperate.

“what is it, si? hm?” you cock your head at him, the gloss of your lips shining under the dim bedroom lights as they tug into a sweet unknowing smile.

he sighs, eyes slipping downward n he fidgets with his fingers softly fighting to come up with words. simon can feel his cheeks burn in a blush, embarrassment trickling into his bloodstream.

“give me something, anything,” he laughs, voice cracking under the need that stirs low in his stomach. “please, i need you.”

you nod slowly as if processing his sweet words, yet you know exactly what he deserves. and he’s not going to like it very much, but what comes easy? without pain there’s no pleasure.

“come here then, love.” you grin, eyes never leaving the big hunky man kneeling at the floor.

he’s a good boy, palms pressing against the wood as he crawls his way to you slowly. his knees drag the floor, neck arching to peer up at you as he continues his journey forward.

you can see the tendons in his neck stretch and flex, and with the way his lashes flutter you can’t help the excitement that fills your belly and soaks the cotton of your panties.

“right there’s perfect, honey,” n on command simon comes to a stop a couple feet in front of you, settling back on the heels of his feet as he watches you impatiently.

“unbuckle your belt.” he follows your instructions, hands pulling and tugging until he can feel the material hugging his hips untighten. “show me yourself.”

his jaw ticks as if he was shy, but course he listens and pulls his jeans under his ass letting his cock fall free and brush against the pretty blonde trail that lines under his bellybutton.

“being so good for me today,” you giggle softly letting the words hang in the air between the two of you. “touch yourself, simon.”

his smile from the sweet praise falls, brows falling into a deep furrow that wrinkles the skin between em. “w-what? no, no-”

“do it.” you warn slicing through his voice, the soft of your voice turning stern as your lips scowl ever so slightly.

his face reads nothing but disappointment but he’s a good boy n he’s going to listen no matter what, even if the night took a terrifically depressing turn of events for him.

his hand wraps around the length of himself slowly, shoulders dropping in a deep breath as his begins to stroke his cock slowly. he can’t help the way his skin warms under your eyes, this is deeply embarrassing, yet he complies and continues.

his free hand balls up against his thigh, eyes fluttering as he catches your gaze within his. his eyes flicker across your face, the pretty red of your lips, the lively look in your pretty eyes and its sad how he can already feel the twist of his stomach.

his stomach collapses, chest rumbling as a soft groan purrs off his lips. his head drops back slowly, eyes rolling into the back of his head. he’s been pent up all day and the feel of finally being able to get off has him folding.

you watch his hand speed up, pretty pearls of precum beading up at the angry red tip of his pretty cock. you unbutton your shirt slowly, the fat of your breasts concealed under the thin lace of your bra.

“look at me, simon.” you whisper and he complies, head falling forward wide eyes scanning down the tanned skin of your supple tits and the smooth skin of your belly.

his lips curl as he chokes out a sweet whimper that hits your ears and tickles in your lower stomach. “fu-huck… you look so beautiful.” his mind is all over the place, picturing and painting pictures that have his balls drawing up with an impending release.

“goddamnit, please, baby. help me,” his pretty begging makes you laugh softly, you can tell how close he’s getting, hand moving quickly against himself, from tip to base with soft squelches that follow his rapid hand.

you pull your bra under your tits, letting them spill out for his greedy eyes before you set your perfectly polished foot along the length of his flexing thigh. his fingers wrap around your ankle before you can feel his nails pierce through the skin, leaving small crescents in the wake.

“i’m so close, c’mon,” his words come out in a deep growl before they end in a pitch that heightens into a sweet whine. “let me cum, mama, please.”

you can’t say no to whiney begging that leaves his bitten lips, eyes darkening as you peer down into his flooding eyes, tears lining his waterline. “go on, baby, you gonna cum for me?” ⊹˚ ₊‧ 𝜗𝜚

think sum1 needs help… ✌️

tiddy

it is so vital to my well-being to have more possessive, delusional gaz. like.. having a one night stand w him and you accidentally blurt out that you love him while you're in the middle of a life-changing orgasm.

albeit awkwardly, you manage to send him off in the morning without any issue. he was cute but you couldn't see yourself in a long-term relationship w him, so you've already made up your mind to ghost him. then the texts come. he's hounding you for days after, ranging from casual invitations to dates, to possibly half-naked selfies. it's like he doesn't understand why you wouldn't be responding.

you finally glimpse one of the messages on your homescreen (you've been leaving him on delivered, not daring to open the messages) where he says you "confessed your love” to him, which means you two must be serious.

inwardly cursing yourself for the slip, you realise you just need to block him before this escalates further.

he's concerned that he can't reach you, but luckily remembers your address from your first night together. maybe he'll just need to teach you how to accept a loving and caring man into your life <3

Steve Huston, 'Ghost Boxers'. 2010.