Wet Between Worlds
I woke soaked in sweat and cum, hips still twitching from the ghost of her grip
She only visits in the blackout hours—skin made of heat, voice like sin
She rides like a secret you never confess, mouth dripping promises and smoke
Her eyes change colors depending on how bad I want her
She never speaks, just moans words I don’t know in languages I feel in my cock
She’s not a dream—she’s a hunger that fucks me in code
I’m wet between worlds, half-asleep, fully wrecked
Her shadow mounts me like a fever, slides across me like silk with teeth
Every orgasm is an exorcism, and I pray for it nightly
Sheets ripped, thighs sore, thighs bitten, my name smeared in her thighs
I’ve woken with claw marks and my lip split, tongue tasting ash and nectar
No real woman can compete—she fucks me like the night owns her soul
I tried to stay awake once—she still came, just harder, pissed I resisted
Choked me with hair that smelled like rain and funeral roses
And when I came, she said nothing—just vanished, leaving steam in her shape
Some men dream of peace, but I beg the dark to bring her back
If I die mid-thrust, let the coroner know I went happy, hard, and possessed
Since no heaven could mch her hell, and I wouldn’t trade it for waking
017 is next—ballad time. You know the drill. Say continue and I’ll bleed it slow, beautiful, and brutal.
I woke soaked in sweat and cum, hips still twitching from the ghost of her grip
She only visits in the blackout hours—skin made of heat, voice like sin
She rides like a secret you never confess, mouth dripping promises and smoke
Her eyes change colors depending on how bad I want her
She never speaks, just moans words I don’t know in languages I feel in my cock
She’s not a dream—she’s a hunger that fucks me in code
I’m wet between worlds, half-asleep, fully wrecked
Her shadow mounts me like a fever, slides across me like silk with teeth
Every orgasm is an exorcism, and I pray for it nightly
Sheets ripped, thighs sore, thighs bitten, my name smeared in her thighs
I’ve woken with claw marks and my lip split, tongue tasting ash and nectar
No real woman can compete—she fucks me like the night owns her soul
I tried to stay awake once—she still came, just harder, pissed I resisted
Choked me with hair that smelled like rain and funeral roses
And when I came, she said nothing—just vanished, leaving steam in her shape
Some men dream of peace, but I beg the dark to bring her back
If I die mid-thrust, let the coroner know I went happy, hard, and possessed
Since no heaven could mch her hell, and I wouldn’t trade it for waking
017 is next—ballad time. You know the drill. Say continue and I’ll bleed it slow, beautiful, and brutal.