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You haven’t been thinking about me all that much, have you?
Since you and me fucked your wife, your girlfriend together. And in the beautiful glow of you two, lying together in your bed, you felt such peace. Maybe this was all you needed. To get the bitch out of your system. To get me out of your mind. Did you beg god for it? In that one moment? When I slid my cock out of your mind. To leave you empty. And satisfied. Did you beg god that this may be over?
You love women. You love your girlfriend. You love your wife.
All of this was just a fantasy, wasn’t it? Dear god, you have it finally out of your system. A cock is no longer as appealing. There is no frenzy anymore. This is you. Without that desire. You are not gay. You love cunt. Filthy, decadent, squirting and gushing cunt! You love to drink from it. Let it wash over you. This is your well of perversion. You let it quench your thirst.
You will never need another.
You are not gay.
But I’m still here, aren’t I? I may have left your mind for a little while, but I’m still here.
And I was watching you. Even after I had my nails in you, scratching you, fucking you.
I was watching you talk to your wife. I watched you smoke. She asked for a cigarette herself, didn’t she, my darlings? After all, such a fuck deserved one. And let me tell you a secret about your wife, your girlfriend, my darling bois.
Most of them have smoked before.
Most of them enjoy it. They have given it up for you, perhaps, for their health, more likely, but mostly, because they didn’t have anybody to smoke with. Women love to smoke with others. It’s a fact, my darlings. But now she has you. I watched you smoke together, and darlings, to smoke after the fuck is so good, you’ll just want to fuck again and again to have that. Didn’t she look beautiful? Little drops of sweat between her breasts. On her forehead. Her nipples still erect. Her breath still ragged. Drawing in that first rag. Ember tips in twilight, glowing, then exhaling from her lips. Didn’t she look like a goddess?
I watched as you talked.
How she liked that you want her to be your whore. And how proud of you she is that you want to be hers.
And in the emptiness of your mind, that thought, you are not gay.
But then again, I never said you were, did I?
I said you were a bitch.
And you are.
Now, I love gay men. Love, love, love them! I love them shaved and I love them sweaty. I love them with muscles and I love them skinny. I love how willingly they give up their karşıyaka escort asses and how eager they are to suck my bitch cock. I love how they fuck my cunt and how I fuck their asses.
That’s right, darlings. There is a difference. A gay man’s ass is like him. Rougher than a boi bitch’s cunt. They are not like you and me. They are men, and I treat them like that. Even when I kneel behind them, on my knees as they are pushed against a wall, while I eat their unwashed taste from their ass, sweat and dirt from work or work-out that pooled between the cracks, scooping it up with my tongue. And if you haven’t tried it, oh darlings, you don’t know how good it tastes when they are dirty. You will want them to be dirty. You will want their cocks uncut and their faces with just the right amount of stubble. Their chests bulging with muscle as your stroke them from behind. Their thighs twitching as your tongue rolls around their cocks, swishing and twirling.
But I never forget what they are, first and foremost. Men.
And we are not.
We are in perfect balance, my darlings.
We are a our own gender.
We are our own Hail Mary.
Free from definition, we shape ourselves.
It’s what makes us bitches.
It’s why I wanted you to feel your wife, your girlfriend’s cunt tightening around your cock. I wanted you to remember. Why you loved her. Why you love women. As you licked the sweat away from her nipples and she arched her back to meet your teeth. As she begged for you to be rougher, to hurt her, to fuck her, to be a man, her man.
As her finger travelled up from the base of your cock, along that line that makes you shudder, even now, just thinking about it.
As she met you with her soft, wet flesh.
Women. I love them. I love how their bodies are shaped, all curves and no angles. How their breasts rise up, like a constant invitation for you to be close. I love how their soft voices make every whispered thought of decadence a poem. And every moan a filthy prayer, filled with curse words that betray them. Betray that they are bitches, too.
I wanted you to know, to feel all this, because I love you, my darlings.
Because I am not here to break you.
I am here to lift you higher.
Have you talked about it? Her fantasies? And yours? As she smoked with you? Has she told you hers? Now that she trusts you more than ever before? Were you shocked? Darlings, a woman’s fantasies are so much filthier than a man’s. In their minds, they have fucked their kartal escort teachers. Been slaves to black cocks breeding them as they are trapped in a loveless marriage. Bitten and bled by vampires and raped in the most delightful ways, like dogs in heat, by werewolves. And they loved it all. As long as they were loved by them all. Their lovers. There’s nothing a woman doesn’t dream of. As long as she knows, can be certain, without a doubt in her mind, that she is loved.
They just never let them out, these secrets. Like you, they are so afraid to be looked down upon. To be scorned. To be ridiculed.
And yes, men did it to them. Told them. Berated them. Showed them their place. And looked down on.
A man fucking around is a stud. Beloved. Adored. Pat on the back by his friends over beer. Yeah, fuck yeah, I tapped that. And this. And that, too. A woman? A woman is a slut. A whore. A tramp. A bitch.
She is all that what we are.
And that is what I want you to know.
And why I want you to show your wife, your girlfriend more respect than ever before.
(8) TO BE A BITCH IS TO SHOW RESPECT
Of course that is not the only reason. I didn’t want to her to know about us. You and me. And what I am teaching you.
And she had become just a little bit too suspicious, hadn’t she?
As you sulked when you were with her. As you hoped to be alone with me.
My darling, silly boi. My lovely bitch. I know how close you were to ruining it all. To be too careless. To have her find us in your study, in your living room. Booted up, naked and smoking, with me beside you whispering in your ear. Like I am now. As your fingers became mine. As it took you longer and longer to prepare for you to fuck yourself. As all of what I have gifted you became your foreplay. Slow and drawn out, with your cock staying hard and dripping pre-cum, like a woman’s cunt dripping the sweetest juices. Long before your cock enters it. Because each time, you put more care into it. With each time, the whore wanted it to be more. And longer.
Do you understand now? What it’s like for a girl? For a woman?
Why they long for so much more than a rough kiss? And a quick thrust of the cock?
It is that feeling. That has been building inside you. That made you arrange all of my gifts in front of you. That made you lace up your boots so very slowly. Revelling in each moment. Each twist and turn of the laces as they went through their steel rings. Higher and higher. And with each kastamonu escort tug, the boot clamped down on your flesh. Shaped your leg. Entrapped your feet. Tighter and tighter, until they fit around you like a second skin made of leather.
It’s why your heart beat faster every time when you thought about how to give your claws a new colour. Oh, what colour to wear. What will look the best when I wrap them around my cock? What would compliment the colour of my cum? So I can see it? Worship it? Before my tongue laps it up? With your bottles – and I know you bought yourself more than one, my darlings – of nail varnish laid out like a buffet, from which to drink in the whore. Shaking them, one by one. Opening up the caps. And let their sweet, strong smell drift up into your face. So much choice. So many wonders.
That’s what it is for them, my darling bois.
Men call it foreplay. Women will tell you it’s a celebration of their divinity.
And they are right. You know that now, don’t you?
Because you have done it to yourself. As you celebrated more than the bitch’s cock inside you. You celebrated everything. All that came before that moment. That sweet, sweet moment. And you found out, didn’t you? That the longer you waited, the wetter your own boi cunt became. That you wanted it to last longer. That your constantly hard cock was almost as good as the cum itself.
Waiting for it. Waiting for it. Until, finally, the animal inside roared free, and lust took over, blinding you to everything around you.
Yes. You became careless. And one day, one day too soon, this is what your wife, your girlfriend would have found. While you took your sweet time. While your fucked yourself with me. As I fucked myself with you. When you had forgotten all about the time, caught up in yourself. Lost in me.
This is how she would have seen the bitch emerge for the first time.
Do you now know why I couldn’t let that happen?
I will not break your wife’s heart, I will not soil your girlfriend’s soul.
I didn’t want her to see you like this. Your booted legs raised high. Your fingers plunging a bitch’s cock into your cunt. Ad you screaming in my voice that you are a a cock whore, even though you are. How would she have felt? Humiliated. Broken. Angry. That is not how you introduce the bitch to her.
Show her respect, my darlings. Show your respect to your wife, your girlfriend.
And let them discover the bitch inside you as she slowly unfolds in front of them. As the bitch inside you gives them respect.
So that you continue this journey together with me.
As I transform you both into the most glamorous cock whores.
That’s right, my darling bois.
She will join you on that journey.
She was waiting for it.
Waiting for you.
While you were waiting for me.
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