I know exactly how your chest flips when my breasts pop onto your screen. The way they push against my shirt, the soft bounce when I move, it drowns out every other thought you have. You tell yourself it’s just a picture, but watching me is its own little trip, a dream that pulls you under until you can’t deny how hooked you are.
Keep watching and admit it, slut. Confess that you crave this like a junkie, that you’ll chase the high no matter how many times you tell yourself you’ll stop. I’ll let you drown in the sensation and then make you beg for more.