Found an abandoned shack in the woods today—barely standing, reclaimed by moss and vines. Inside, an old bedframe with rusted springs and a mattress stained by rain. Felt a sudden, intense pull to fuck someone there. Not gently. Not lovingly. Just pure, filthy release. Pushing them face-first into that damp mattress, ripping their clothes aside, spreading their ass and driving my cock deep. No romance, just the smell of decay and sweat, the sounds of creaking wood and desperate moans. Leaving them marked, used, and trembling as I walk back into the trees.

Civilization sanitizes desire. Out here, it rots and blooms in equal measure. (Mood: feral)