Photo by Valeria Boltneva:

No this can’t be happening!

How are my panties damping at the thought of him?

This man is a weasel in every regard and yet here I am fantasizing sitting at my desk.

He must have a cock as thick as my wrist and I can’t help imagining feeling the firm head begging to enter me.

My pussy tightens with every new thought.



my mind is a prison

I sit

Here in a plume of smoke

Waiting for the sensation of nothing and everything at the same time

Waiting for something to reach me

Somewhere far away

Most times it comes I get scared and turn away

Trying not to listen, to not feel.

Why do I write

Who will listen

Who would want to

One day I will post

One day I won’t be afraid to be raw