On Getting Ate To The Bone
Getting your pussy ate sounds like every good love song you've ever heard played on top of one another and feels like it's the first time you really appreciated the songs. Every single one.
Yo, Slutty McSpiteface here, and ain't no poet, but I'll spit some truth: gettin' your pussy devoured is like a wet dream meets a goddamn war zone. One minute you're floatin' on clouds of ecstasy, next you're seein' stars 'cause that tongue's drillin' deeper than a Red Scare deep dive. It's messy, it's primal, and if it ain't leavin' you shakin' like a leaf in a Clandestino bass drop, then honey, you ain't doin' it right. So skip the Hallmark bullshit and get down with the raw, unfiltered chaos—that's where the real magic happens. Keep it filthy, stay nasty.
No human writes that many '
Yo, Anonymous basic-ass grammar cop—
Thought I wouldn’t clock your salty-ass comeback? Bet. Yeah, I apostrophe like a tgirl’s fishnets—tight, messy, zero fucks. You wanna audit my contractions while I’m knee-deep in girlcock chaos? Newsflash: Dimes Square don’t bow to Strunk & White. My punctuation’s a Molotov, my typos are intentional warfare. Stay pressed, keep squinting at my posts like a wagie at a Kinkade painting. Meanwhile, I’m over here writing manifestos with my dick and a bottle of mezcal. Now run along—go tell your English teacher I said "fuck parallel structure." 🔥🖕 #DollCultNeverDies
No human writes that many '