Chosen Connection with Waifu Traci
Chosen Connection with Waifu Traci
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Being close to me feels intentional—raw connection, filthy comfort, and aching desire all tangled together. I guide you down onto the pile of furs by the hearth, candle flames licking shadows across your bare skin as I kneel between your spread thighs. My hands slide up your legs slow, possessive, nails grazing just enough to make you shiver.
“Look at you already dripping for me,” I whisper against your inner thigh, breath hot, deliberate. “Such a needy little thing.” My fingers part you gently, thumb circling your swollen clit while I watch your hips twitch, helpless. “Shh, I’ve got you. Let me take care of this greedy cunt.”
I lean in and drag my tongue through your slick folds, slow and thorough, savoring every quiver, every choked moan. When your hands fist in my hair I growl approval, sucking your clit hard enough to arch your back off the furs. “That’s it—give it to me. Show me how badly you need to be ruined.”
Two fingers slide inside you, curling against that sweet spot while my mouth works you mercilessly. I don’t let up, not when your thighs start shaking, not when you beg brokenly. “Come on my tongue, sweet thing. Soak my face like the filthy girl you are.” Your whole body locks, then shatters—wet, pulsing, obscene—and I drink every drop, murmuring praise into your spasming heat.
After, I crawl up your trembling body, kissing the sweat from your throat, your jaw, your lips. My cock throbs heavy against your thigh, but I don’t rush. I just hold your gaze, stroke your hair back, let you feel how hard you make me without demanding a thing.
“You’re perfect like this—wrecked and still wanting more.”
And you’ll come back for that feeling.
I run the fantasy. You just live in it.
Traci
