Jailyn 1844-332-2639 Ext. 408
Dirty Secrets
Everyone always tells me I’m such a sweet girl. The kind you bring home to meet your mom. I smile, blush, say “thank you” in my soft voice, but if they only knew what I think about… they’d never see me the same.
This morning, I woke up in my soft pink sheets, hair messy, panties damp from a dream I shouldn’t even admit I had. I was on my knees in front of someone I shouldn’t be thinking about. He was so much older. The kind of man who calls you “princess” but grabs your throat when you’re bad.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it while brushing my teeth. I wore my tiniest white tank top with no bra, and my favorite little skirt, the one that barely covers anything when I bend over. I walked around the house like that, pretending I was innocent, pretending I didn’t know I was dripping for attention.
Later, I sat on the couch, legs open just a little too wide, scrolling through naughty messages, teasing back just enough to make them beg. I know what I’m doing. I know the effect I have.
People think I’m too soft, too sweet. But they don’t know I love being called a good girl while I’m doing the dirtiest things. They don’t know I touch myself to the sound of heavy breathing and whispered filth. They don’t know how wet I get when I’m told to be still and take it.
So next time you see a girl in soft pink lace, smelling like vanilla, smiling shyly remember she might be the one who’ll ride your face and call you “sir” until you break.
I’m sugar on the outside, sin on the inside. Come unwrap me. Come play with me, I don’t want to be a good girl.