Spent the morning baking cookies—there’s something so comforting about filling the house with warmth and sweetness. But God, all I could think about was the way my fingers would look coated in something stickier than sugar... or better yet, your cum dripping down my chin after I’ve swallowed every last drop. Nothing turns me into a shameless, drooling mess faster than the taste of you. It’s the only craving I can’t ignore, the one that makes me drop to my knees like the cocksleeve I am. Who else gets off on their own desperation? (Bonus points if you’ve ever ruined a batch of cookies because you got distracted fantasizing about being used.)