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#incrediblefuck
year2000electronics · 17 days
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Puppet freeman haunts me in the best way. All my love to that beast(ALSO HOLY SHIT THAT WAS INCREDIBLEFUCK YEAH)
puppet boy, puppet boy, you're the boy i looooooove
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kaibacorpstocksplit · 2 years
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Commission for @incrediblefuck !
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itsct · 7 years
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In the end... WE WIN
I didn't want to fuck him right now. We just got done going back and forth about the new and old women entering and exiting his life. I didn't want to fuck him right now but somehow I agreed. allowing him to take control of my body while I hate fucked him back. It wasn't rape, that's what you do when you are in a relationship right? fuck your partner when they are in need? what happens when you fuck your partner when they are in need but they still want more? more as in women, not more sex, but he needs more bitches around because of his constant need to be told he is perfect. He's always demanding my undivided attention but can't seem to focus in on even the simplest conversations. He gets the big ups while he puts me down. He gets the praise while these bitches think I stalk him on a daily. Not even, and if I was stalking him it would be because of his actions not because of these loose fees floating around. He does have favorites, the ones who can get nasty for him, the ones who will play by his rules, and the ones who know they could never be more than a side dish to enjoy, she happens to be one of them. But again one of the many that he keeps tucked off in different cities. All of them around for different things and his agenda unknown to anyone but himself. His need to fuck the foreign bitch before she left was at an extreme high. I was laughing because she called him trying to inform him that his bitch was out of pocket. She was hurt because I informed her in multiple different ways that she doesn't matter.... she might be here  5 days in a row and she still wouldn't matter, her pussy is sweet, she is a dope little bitch, and that's where it will end. He's mad because she's claiming not to want to fuck with him ever again but the cigarettes all over the ground of the balcony quickly let it be known she came over here and got here pussy drilled, her ass fucked, and enjoyed a nice fisting session, but still she's gone with the wind. I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay away before she left, to be honest, she couldn't help herself because #1 his dick is great, #2 I interrupted their fuck session a few days ago, and #3 she actually likes this nigga and I don't blame her. You see I knew she wanted him on a deeper level months ago. I even tried to tell him but he didn't believe me, let's be honest he never believes me. I was never bothered by it because a plethora of bitches want him, love him, lust for him. Always complaining that I am taking up his time and keeping him away. All the while none of them ever knowing that he chooses to have me here every day, he chooses to fuck me on a regular, he chooses to take me out and about, and he chooses to put up with my wild antics because he causes them. You see, it isn't about the foreign bitch, keys to his world, the freckled one, the smart girl with the beauty beyond measure, the brown beach, or any other bitch. What it is about is him, his ways of claiming that he doesn't want any of them but telling them otherwise. How many times will you believe that a grown ass man forgot to charge his phone? How many times will you believe that he was with his boys? How many times will you believe him when he tells you all of the negative things about me but then requests my presence in his bed?
So even though I didn't want to, he did. So there I lay, head buried in to the 2000 count thread sheets, ass hanging off the edge, and my heart nowhere in the room. Still, my body reacted to him, his long strokes extracting cream from my body, how does he do this? It was as if he were a drill and he had penetrated the well of passion, pulling out heavy loads of my juices every time he entered. Sliding in and out of me so sweetly but with each motion, his body demanded more of my creamy goodness. He could tell I was disconnected so he worked harder as he continued to pummel into me. Placing his strong hands on my shoulders as he maneuvered his way into the pockets of my pussy. This was us, fight, fuck, build it up halfway just to tear it down. the truth is, neither of us are perfect, but neither of us are willing to walk away from something so enjoyable, so I say let all these bitches come around. all they do is intensify his need for me, remind him that I'm that bitch, and confront him with the truth... That truth being, the only sheets he wants her in is his, and the only woman he would like to lay up with for months at a time is me.
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itsct · 7 years
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Craving... you
The most intense craving she ever had was not a cherry pie or a piece of candy. It wasn't the smell of Del Taco fries that had her nostrils wide open ready to Inhale everything in front of her. It wasn't the aroma of fresh funnel cake leaving six flags or the feeling of skywalker laying her on her ass. Instead, it was the unshakeable need for the bad guy, the derogatory man, the one who knew she made him happy and deep down he wanted to give her more yet he refused to bend. The one who had the power to make her happy days better and to bring about the darkest clouds creating the heaviest storms you could imagine. She couldn't understand why her craving for him was so incredible, at least that was the lie she told herself. Why must indulging in the effects of his scent do so much to her? Maybe it was the way he looked when the sun hit him. So loving, so free, so unlike himself.  Perhaps it was his perfected habit of always wearing cologne, even to bed. As she lays next to him her nostrils are hit with the scent of sweet nectars and robust spices. Leaving her vulnerable when he would sleep anywhere besides next to her side.  She explored why her craving was so intense and she quickly discovered that he did this to her on purpose. He opened up to her on a different level than the other women had even had the chance to experience. Allowing the nights of dinners, bars, and his solo games of pool to take them deeper than the surface. The nights of dramatic arguments, leading to apologies, followed by moments of dancing in the clouds and splashing the television screen, candles everywhere, and all of a sudden they are in a cabin dancing in the snow.  Their imaginations always going, always wondering what if? Their thoughts opposite of one another, she wanting him so much that any piece of him could hold her fix and he fighting her so much that after two days of being away he can no longer check Instagram to see her smile. But why she was so addicted? Why him? No one ever knew. Her answer clear, logical, and true, he didn't hold back who he was. He was him. 100% authentic. Loving. Aggressive. Dogmatic. Unforgiving. Stubborn. Giver yet Never bending. Semi considerate but always Self-focused. Unsympathetic yet at the same time amazing. It was like watching a lion attack a gazelle, the gazelle enjoying the fields, prancing through the sun as the lion pounces on her. But the lion does not kill her. Instead, he swipes her with his powerful paw, in the perfect spot that allows her to survive yet always remember that he is the king. If she were, to be honest with herself, it's that exact balance of his reckless behavior and perfectly calculated actions that keep her yearning. Keep her throbbing. The undeniable magnetic energy between the two of them was something that she was unable to fight. She was filled with joy when he was around and when he wasn't she was feening for her fix. 90° in the air, Flowing with the wind as if she was a kite, in reality, she was enjoying the feeling of the sand between her toes right before the crash where the water meets the land. It's 2 am the waves are enormous, dusted with the froth of the salty ocean, and the glow of the moon dancing off of the water. The crash surprised her and drug her under, but she found her balance. The pull, the feel, the need to understand that he alone could be her source of energy, that he alone could motivate her, that he alone could stroke her brain and shift her perspective. The craving for him intensifying after every visit. She knew there were new levels to lust when she felt herself yearning for him in his presence, the feeling of wanting him intensifying, the need to have him around even though he was looking in her eyes. She knew then she wanted his heart, she could never fill her fix because he would never give her the hit she was looking for. Instead, leaving her in need of the only thing to curb her craving. He was smiling in this moment and she was unraveling he didn't know, she knew he didn't know because she had been unraveling since drink number two at BJs. Trying to keep her composure around such a saucy nigga. How sway? How ? How do you keep your cool around a man who never sweats, how do you allow yourself not to worry when he never worries? And in these questions, she discovered so much about her need for more. More knowledge, more fees, and more experiences. Her love for him overflowing like a fire hydrant hit by a car. Uncontrolled, unconfined, unpredictable, and a complete accident. She never knew she would fein for him in such ways. The feelings he forced upon her, the way he made her body feel, and the new levels in which he took her mind to were better than any indica she had ever indulged in , dankier than the loud scent spilling out of her bag, and smoother than the coco they had picked from the plants that morning.
Why ? Why is it so intense? More than any other craving she's ever experienced, every single time she yearns for him, she gives in. She has no control, but she loves it. She loves all of it. The highs the lows, the ins the outs, the smooth Ls and the quick Ws. Because when the opportunity arises and her craving is satisfied she feels as though she won the lottery. So many women had played their favorite numbers yet she knew the winning set. She experiences a high like nothing else and what gives her hope is knowing that she still hasn't even gotten everything she is craving. The craving.
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