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a prayer

Les Félins (René Clément), Days of Being Wild (Wong Kar Wai), Malcolm T. Liepke, Gustav Vigeland (Eros and Psyche), Stephan Sinding (Adoration), Soul Eom (kiss, hug and die)

Thinking about forcing myself into you without preparing you so I can see your pretty face when you cry begging me to stop.

I like to think about people lost in their own pleasure. A boy so desperate for relief he can’t help but hump his own hand, whining and panting, corded arms glistening with sweat, mouth fallen open and eyes scrunched shut as he chases that high. I like to imagine people walking in and out of the room as they go about other tasks, staring knowingly, and he doesn’t even care. All he can think about is release. Someone could shove anything under him, a hand, a mouth, a warm hole, and he’d cry out desperately in relief, shoving into it without caring who or what it was, and humping to completion.

Maybe not even caring if they were willing. Not caring if the mouth or ass belonged to someone who was there by choice, or just another cum dump a thoughtful bystander decided to retrieve for him. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. He wouldn’t hear or pay attention to the cries or the squirming attempts to get away. He’d mindlessly pin them down and keep going. No malice in it, or forethought. All he would want would be to dump his warm load. That’s all he can think about. It’s all he knows.

Imagine teasing a horny demon in heat inside of a salt circle, stripping for him before masturbating oh so close to him. You’re literally just out of his reach while he’s panting and shaking and growling the ways he’s gonna break you and breed you and make you beg for mercy

And then you accidentally break the salt circle