“Now Tell Me How You Taste”
Subtle was never my style.
When I tell you that I want you driving around town with your balls in your pussy, touching your clit, cumming in broad daylight with cars and big rigs right next to you, fully-consumed in the very thought of my hand around your neck and my cock inside your pussy, just know — I always will ask for more.
I’ll always push you to do what you didn’t know you could.
So find a way to dig deeper, little one, knuckle-deep inside your little inner slut and give me more.
Shove your fingers down your pants at Trader Joe’s and dig as deep as you can, then taste yourself for me, and wink at the first person you see with your fingers in your mouth.
Then describe it.
Describe your salt and well-up in sinful pride at the very notion that I’d give anything to suck every last drip your slutty little fingers. I don’t care if you are straight from the gym — I want your flavor.
So embrace that inner dirty girl and each and every time you question whether or not you are dark enough, know in your bones that I’d make you go darker. More. I’ll make you rub your wetness all over your face and then kiss me.
Yeah, it’s kinda like that.