yes-darling

[yes-darling]

I wasn’t trying to fluster you, love. I just said I’d be in and out quickly. Efficient. Deep focus. You’re the one who started squirming.

[yes-darling]

I say this gently and I mean it entirely—

Ageless blogs will be blocked.

If your blog does not clearly state that you are over 18, I must ask—do not interact.

Not because I doubt you, per se, but because I refuse to guess. I do not entertain ambiguity, especially not here.

This space is curated. Intentionally so. And while I take great pleasure in indulgence, I take even greater pleasure in boundaries that hold.

If you belong here, you’ll know to say so.

[yes-darling]

Lie back. Not all the way–prop yourself up on your elbows. I want to watch your mouth when I reach for your zip.

[yes-darling]

I warmed the milk and didn’t flinch when it spilled on my wrist. I just thought how your mouth would feel there instead.

[yes-darling]

You always hang your jacket before touching me. I love that about you. I love that you make room for me in the structure of your arrival.

[yes-darling]

A list of decisions I made mid-kiss

To kiss him again. Immediately.: Because the first wasn’t enough.

To bite his bottom lip and pull: Because I like my kisses a little greedy, and I wanted to feel him follow even as I took something from him.

To push his shirt off one shoulder: Because skin pleases me more than fabric. And because I like to unwrap what I’m devouring.

To tilt his head back with my fingers in his hair: Because I wanted access to his throat. And because I like when his body becomes a thing to be arranged.

To stop entirely, lips parted, just to breathe him in: Because smell is memory, and I wanted to remember this with more than just my mouth.

To press my fingers to his chest, just to feel his heartbeat spike: Because I was curious. And because I like knowing what I do to people.

[yes-darling]

You wore my undershirt to bed. I didn’t even touch you. Just stared. Rock-hard and reverent.

[yes-darling]

You always act embarrassed when I call you a slut, and then moan like it’s your full legal name.

[yes-darling]

You’re blushing again. Tch. I haven’t even touched you yet. That’s what I like about you–you respond so beautifully to tone alone. Filthy little empath.

[yes-darling]

You handed me a pair of your boxers and I just held them for a moment. Thought about the way you sound when I tug them down with my teeth. I folded them slowly. Respectfully.

[yes-darling]

You looked so proud, sitting through dinner like nothing was happening under the table. Would’ve praised you then, but my mouth was… occupied.

[yes-darling]

I only nipped your earlobe to get your attention. You were drifting. Somewhere between sleep and submission. I just wanted to say hello.

[yes-darling]

You said you needed a break. I thought I’d offer one. My lap’s always open. You sit so well when you’re tired and obedient.

[yes-darling]

I don’t rush. I like my coffee strong, my hands slow, and my men thoroughly undone before noon.

[yes-darling]

You grind your hips in your sleep sometimes. Just enough to wake me. Not enough to finish. You know I’ll take care of it. At 3:07 a.m., without speaking. Like clockwork.

[yes-darling]

You keep wearing those soft little jumpers. Cozy. Makes me want to press your face to the floor and fuck the softness right off you.

[yes-darling]

You were doing the Crossword. I was doing something worse under the table.

You got the answer anyway.

Smart boy.