“Oh baby, fuck, hah, squeeze my dick just like that.” I’ve always liked being talked to like that, especially during diaper phone sex, my prize hanging right off my ass just like that. It makes my skin burn with joy and my passions slip out. A typhoon of orgasmic bliss overtaking me, a magic show of fluids that would wet a bed if it wasn’t for the huge meat stick blocking my exit. I knew it was only a matter of time, but I also knew he was pumping in hard enough to push my cervix back and knock my whole body around. I couldn’t help but cream myself once, twice, who knows how many times. What was important to me is how small I was compared to him, how much I needed him, and how many times I knew he was going to blow that big fat load of his fantasy phone sex dreams right in me. I live my whole life waiting to be bred while also being pat on the head. My identity never really grew past the ‘I want them and I want them now’ phase and I’m not too mature to admit it. I want a head pat, I want a head rub, I want a lewd as fuck holding hands session while I’m flooded deep and treated to a heated bath and wash deep inside. I’m an impulsive little girl who needs what she’s given and I always need it. Some guy atop me is the same as all the others, a big prick that’ll make an attempt to change me while battering my deepest core with compulsive poetry. My goal is to take it all and love the shit out of it until one of them really succeeds and creates a bun that serves as physical proof to all the impregnation phone sex molten love I’ve gotten over the years.
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