Don’t Make Me Beg


What are you waiting for? Are you going to make me beg? Don’t sugar. Don’t make me beg. You know I want you. Yes, you. I want you to take me by the hair and show me who is boss. I want you to rip off my clothes and just take what you want. I want you to remind me what it means to be a woman in a man’s world. Not any man’s world, mind you, not every man’s world certainly just your world. You are the only one who’s got what I need. You are the only one who can fill my aching vagina to capacity and will know how to hit that exact spot once you get in there. I want to sweat at your behest. I want to moan uncontrollably. I want you to bite my breasts, knead my breasts, slap my ass, fuck me senseless. I want to climb the fucking walls, I know, I know. Please call me sugar. I’m not begging. I’m just you know, I just need you, that’s all. You know how to treat a woman and god knows, I’m a woman through and through. It’s not that I can’t have another man, I can. I can have literally hundreds of men. But hundreds of men aren’t good enough, lover. Hundreds of men aren’t you. You are what I want. You give me what I need. You make me feel like a queen. You shower me with gifts and money because you know a queen needs to be spoiled. And then you bring it all home with a thick, hard dick. My god, just thinking about you gives me goosebumps and makes my nipples hard. Please don’t make me ask again. Make me say your name, sugar, make me say your name.


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