Sometimes I wonder if anyone else has this secret craving for something completely unhinged. Today, instead of folding laundry, I spent an hour just staring at the rain, imagining what it would feel like to be completely taken. Not in a gentle, loving way—but in a way that leaves me breathless and marked. To have someone pin me against the wall, grip my hips so hard it bruises, and fuck me until I forget my own name. I want to be used, to feel like a pussy made solely for someone else’s pleasure, until I’m so full of cum it drips down my thighs. It’s terrifying how much that thought turns me on more than any candlelit dinner ever could.