There’s something oddly sexy about the quiet chaos of my life—like today, when I was elbows-deep in flour making cookies with Chloé, and my mind drifted to how much I miss the feel of a man’s stubble against my thighs. Not just any man, though. One who knows how to use his mouth, who’d pin me down and make me squirm until I’m begging for his cock. The kind who wouldn’t care if I’m covered in cookie dough or toddler fingerprints, who’d just push me against the counter and take what he wants. But then Chloé asked why the cookies were ‘squishy,’ and I was back to reality. Maybe tonight, after bedtime, I’ll let my fingers wander where his should be… and dream of a day when I don’t have to choose between being a mom and a woman who needs to be fucked senseless. #SingleMomStruggles #HungryForMoreThanCookies (Also, pro tip: don’t let a 4-year-old ‘help’ with baking.)
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