brooketyler
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Sometimes I just crave a hard dick in my guts, that deep, ha..
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 12:32:19 +0000 UTCSometimes I just crave a hard dick in my guts, that deep, harsh feeling that takes over everything else. I bet you get it—you probably just want to feel your dick buried in someone’s guts too. But when I’m in that mood, there’s never anyone around to slide inside me and give me what I need. I’ve tried Tinder, but it’s a waste of time—takes days at the very least, and most guys on there are full of crap. Endless chats that go nowhere, fake pics, old pics, you name it, I’ve dealt with it all. I could turn to my husband, Scott, but I don’t want his dick anywhere near me. It’d give him the wrong idea and make him think he still matters in that way, and I’m not about to let him feel like he has any place in my desires. What I need is an app that cuts the bullshit—no face pics, just straight to the body. I don’t care about your face; it’s the last thing on my list. Show me your dick first, then your balls, your body, and then, maybe, your face so I know who to look for if I get that far. I’d happily do the same—here’s my body, my holes, ready for you, so we both know exactly what we’re getting. I’m putting a man’s dick over his personality, his looks, his fitness, everything else. Sorry, but I’m not sorry. I don’t want to marry him—I just want him to pump his cum into me, breed me, leave me dripping his seed from my holes, then go home. Is that too much to ask? Anyway, I’m sitting here, craving dick, and Scott’s just… there, in the background, entirely useless to me, which is a good thing at a time like this. I can use Scott for my sexual fantasies and rub one out. I like thinking of how I can’t even look at him without feeling annoyed—he’s got no idea how little he means to me when I’m like this. I get off on knowing he’s clueless, thinking he’s still my husband in any real way, while I’m out here hunting for a better man to fill me with cock. I like to think of how It’s almost pathetic how irrelevant he’s become, and that thought alone makes my pussy throb harder than anything he could ever do. It makes my clit hard as a rock knowing I’m dying to find someone to wreck me, to leave me leaking and satisfied, while Scott sits at home, none the wiser, a sad little shadow who doesn’t even cross my mind when I’m chasing men who can give me what I need. And then I cum, usually harder than most guys can make me cum. So, at least I have that. The funny part is, after I orgasm, my view of Scott flips 180 degrees, and he seems like such a perfect husband. Pussy free, but that’s not my problem now, is it?
