Poor Guy.

touchstarved boys who always need to touch you one way or another, whether it's a hand around your waist, fingers laced with yours, nuzzling his head into your neck.

that whine at the slightest touch anyways, keening when you run your fingers through their hair. holding back a moan when you scratch gently at their scalp with your nails.

who glow under your love, shuddering with the sweet praise that drips your lips.

who try to do their very best so you'll call them your good boy and maybe if they're very good you'll let them touch your body, let them lay between your legs and taste you--if they're good. a tantalizing carrot on a stick that leaves them panting with need.

touchstarved boys that can't bear to be apart from you long, and can hardly keep sane without you in their line of sight,

who grip at your wrist when you try to leave for work, begging you to stay as they drop onto their knees, hugging your legs.

who plead and plead for you not to leave them, whining and sniffling when you try to shake them off.

who nudge their nose against your thigh, sweet big eyes looking up and only then can you tell deep inside where this was always inevitably going to go.

touchstarved boys who you could never seem to say no to.

¯­­¯¯

"You said you were hungry? Your meal is on the soles of my boots. Eat up!"

'It’s a good model for success + happiness'.

Sissy you’re crying from your eyes and your lil clitty.  You could join us if you could stop your lil clitty from crying like that.  I guess you enjoy holding that tray with our wine.  

You’d think that the spikes in that cage would help her control that leaky little clitty.  

sickens me to my stomach. how dare this guy get to live my dream.