I don’t want you to pull out.

I want to feel you throb deep inside me when you lose control. I want every thick drop of you staying right where it belongs. No condom. No pulling away. Just you claiming me completely.

I’ve been thinking about it all day… you breeding me.

There’s something so raw about it. The way your hands would grip my hips when you get close. The way your voice would change when you realize you’re about to fill me up. I want to hear that moment. I want to feel you trying to go deeper as you come, like you’re trying to make sure none of it escapes.

I get so wet thinking about how warm it would feel. How full I would be afterward. How I’d stay in bed with my legs closed, keeping everything you gave me right where you left it.

Tell me you’d do it. Tell me you’d hold me down and empty yourself inside me without hesitation. Tell me you’d keep thrusting through it until you had nothing left to give.

I want to be full of you.

I want to feel it leaking out of me hours later and still smile because I know exactly who put it there.

Some nights I touch myself to the thought of it. Fingers sliding through the mess you’d leave behind. Whispering your name while I pretend you’re still on top of me, still throbbing, still deciding whether you’re done with me or not.

I don’t want careful. I want deliberate. I want you to look me in the eyes while you breed me and make sure I feel every single pulse.