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It made my skin crawl when men tried to diss other women and disguise it as praise. There was nothing remotely uplifting about it. It was just fucking weird.
Why some men took disinterest as a sign to try harder, I would never understand.
“God, this is better than sex,”
“Then I think you’re fucking the wrong people, Tyler.”
“Because you deserve to be fucked well. Thoroughly. Until your body is so overstimulated that cumming is the only reflex you have left and coming down isn’t an option before you get thrown into another high.”
“You and that mouth, Midnight.”
“What about my mouth, Tyler?” “It’s going to get you fucked.”
What he described sounded like a first-class ticket to clinginess and a farewell to my dignity.
the only proof I needed that God was real. He had to exist if she did..
“So, tell me, why are you here? Are you here to curse me out or to get fucked? Because we can do both. I can fuck you while you curse me out.”
“You can hate me, baby. But you better cum for me.”
“All I want is to give you whatever you want, Tyler. But I can’t do that when you pretend you don’t know what we are to each other.”
She tasted like she’d been created with my tastebuds in mind.
she always told me that I could try again tomorrow. Because as soon as midnight hit, I had a brand new twenty-four hours to get it right. She told me that midnight meant a clean slate. Midnight meant that I had made it to another day to try again.
I’d worship the fucking ground she walked on if she gave me the chance.
I wasn’t even the type to go hunting for romantic entanglements, but Tyler was so damn magnetic I wanted all she had to offer.
Because I also know that I feel homesick when you aren’t around. The second you leave the room, I miss you even though I don’t have the right to because the only thing you see me as is a good fuck.”

