u/Dom_From_Wolves

The title says it all really, when was the last time you had a real orgasm. I don't mean the sort that you put on to make a partner think you've had as good of a time as them, or the sort where it literally just scratches the surface of your desires. I'm talking about the sort of orgasm you know you deserve, the sort where your toes curl, your moans are genuine, you get so sensitive every touch is amplified a thousand fold and for the first time in years you feel like someone really does think about your pleasure.

It's the sort of release that won't be over in two minutes, it requires work and paying attention to what gets you going. If you're married can you ever really say your husband has given you an orgasm with that intensity? Being honest can you really admit that the thought of having an orgasm like that doesn't excite you, doesn't fill you with a thrill for a fuck you'd thought you'd never feel again.

Does the cheating make it even better? Only you can answer that for me. What I'm offering is an euphoric orgasm you'll get no where else, sure you've fantasised about it.

The dominant guy who throws you on the bed, eats your juicy cunt out while you scream for him to plough you, then after what feels like forever for you he pulls his tongue out of your cunt and replaces it with his big throbbing cock, he slams into you hard, not because he hates you but because he knows you need it, your mind would immediately start to panic you've got a guy deep and raw in your well under appreciated cunt, but the feeling of him using you the way you deserve after all that intense pussy eating, you don't care, hell you're wrapping your legs around him so he has to cum inside you. You'd think that would be it, but we both know that's not the real you, you want to taste your sweet sticky orgasmic juices on his softening cock after he's filled you up. Let's face it part of you would be thinking if you clean up his cock enough he'll harden up, grab your hair and face fuck you while he calls you his good girl.

Then there's the aftercare, his arms around you, maybe groping your tits or arse as you cuddle, he reinforces that you're a good girl for taking everything he just did to you. The slight pain of the sex is starting to creep in now and the thought of going home to your partner, but you don't care you're already thinking about seeing him again.

Does this sound like you? Are you a closeted good girl who isn't getting her kinks met and her cunt is under used? Have you not had a real orgasm in quite a while?

​We all have a public face. The one that’s composed, disciplined, and looks after everyone else. But I’ve always been more interested in what happens when that uniform comes off and the "professional" finally gets what she’s been craving all day.

​I believe your career dictates exactly how you need to be taken. If you spend your day serving others, your reward should be a primal, intense focus on your own pleasure, the kind that makes you forget your own name.

​The Nurses: You spend twelve hours a day caring for people, being gentle, and being "on." Your reward is to be completely objectified. I want to treat you like a good girl who only exists for my satisfaction, using that under-appreciated body until you’re too sensitive to even be touched.

​The Teachers: You’re the authority. You’re always talking, always in control. Your reward is being silenced. Whether it’s a gag or a hand over your mouth while I’m deep inside you, I want to take the lead so you finally don't have to.

​The Police & Army: You live by the book and the discipline. Your reward is a total lack of control. I’m talking about being thrown down, pinned, and reminded exactly what it feels like to be completely overpowered by a man who knows you can handle it, and knows exactly how to break that professional armour.

​The Retail & Service Workers: You spend all day being "polite" to people who don't deserve it. Your reward is pure, unadulterated worship. I want to spend forever eating your pussy out, tasting every bit of you until you’re screaming, finally being treated like the priority you actually are.

​The Students: You’re stuck in libraries, following a curriculum, and being told what to do by people half as smart as you. Your reward is a "private lesson" in what your body is actually capable of. A bit of praise, a bit of roughness, and a real-world education in how a "good girl" takes a cock.

​The Housewives: You’re the one who keeps the world turning at home, yet you’re the most overlooked. Your husband might go through the motions, but when was the last time you had a real orgasm? The kind where your toes curl and your mind panics because I’m deep and raw in a cunt that has been under-used for years? Your reward is a fuck that isn't over in two minutes, it’s me using you, filling you up, and making you feel like a woman again instead of just a "wife."

​Whatever your role is during the day, I want to be the one who gives you the "work" you actually want. The kind that ends with you breathless, messy, and finally satisfied. So tell me, do you agree with the reward I think your profession deserves or are one of the other rewards more suitable?

​Message me with what you do for a living, and tell me: after a long shift, do you want to be worshiped, or do you want to be used?

​Let’s talk about the quiet tragedy of your bedroom.

​You lie there at night, staring at the ceiling, feeling the dull ache of a desire that hasn't been properly met in years. Maybe he’s "tired," maybe he thinks five minutes of clumsy friction and a "you okay, babe?" is enough. It’s not. It’s an insult to a woman like you. He’s become comfortable with your neglect, assuming that because you’re a "good wife" or a "loyal partner," you’ve simply forgotten what it feels like to be hunted, handled, and thoroughly possessed.

​He’s forgotten that you aren't just a roommate or a co-parent—you are a sexual creature with a body that was designed to be used until it’s trembling.

​Here is what you’ve been missing while he’s been sleeping:

​The Anticipation: I don’t do "polite." When I see you, I want you to feel the shift in the air. I’m the man who grabs you by the waist the moment the door shuts, pulling you flush against me so you can feel exactly how much I want you. I want to see that flash of panic and heat in your eyes when you realize that, for the first time in a long time, you aren't in control anymore.

​The Worship: While he ignores what’s between your legs, I make it my masterpiece. I want to spend an eternity with your legs draped over my shoulders, my tongue working with a slow, agonizing precision until you’re sobbing into the pillows. I want to taste your frustration turning into pure, liquid desperation, dragging out every moan he’s been too lazy to earn.

​The Claiming: When I finally decide you’ve had enough teasing, I’m not going to ask. I’m going to flip you over, grab a handful of your hair, and remind your "under-used" pussy what it was made for. I’m talking about deep, raw, rhythmic thrusts that make the headboard count the seconds, the kind of fuck that makes your mind go blank and your toes curl until they cramp.

​The Aftermath: When I’m done filling you up, I’m not going to roll over and check my phone. I’m going to hold you close, my hand still possessively gripping your hip or your breast, letting the sting of the friction and the heat of the sweat remind you that you are alive. You’ll go home with a secret smile and a sore body, finally satisfied, while he remains none the wiser that someone else finally did the job he was too weak to finish.

​If you’re tired of being the only one in your house who knows how to satisfy a woman, it’s time to stop settling. Your body is a temple that he’s let fall into ruin, I’m here to rebuild it.

​Message me and tell me the exact moment you realised your partner wasn't enough. Tell me what he’s too afraid to do to you, and let’s talk about how I’ll fix that.

The title says it all really, when was the last time you had a real orgasm. I don't mean the sort that you put on to make a partner think you've had as good of a time as them, or the sort where it literally just scratches the surface of your desires. I'm talking about the sort of orgasm you know you deserve, the sort where your toes curl, your moans are genuine, you get so sensitive every touch is amplified a thousand fold and for the first time in years you feel like someone really does think about your pleasure.

It's the sort of release that won't be over in two minutes, it requires work and paying attention to what gets you going. If you're married can you ever really say your husband has given you an orgasm with that intensity? Being honest can you really admit that the thought of having an orgasm like that doesn't excite you, doesn't fill you with a thrill for a fuck you'd thought you'd never feel again.

Does the cheating make it even better? Only you can answer that for me. What I'm offering is an euphoric orgasm you'll get no where else, sure you've fantasised about it.

The dominant guy who throws you on the bed, eats your juicy cunt out while you scream for him to plough you, then after what feels like forever for you he pulls his tongue out of your cunt and replaces it with his big throbbing cock, he slams into you hard, not because he hates you but because he knows you need it, your mind would immediately start to panic you've got a guy deep and raw in your well under appreciated cunt, but the feeling of him using you the way you deserve after all that intense pussy eating, you don't care, hell you're wrapping your legs around him so he has to cum inside you. You'd think that would be it, but we both know that's not the real you, you want to taste your sweet sticky orgasmic juices on his softening cock after he's filled you up. Let's face it part of you would be thinking if you clean up his cock enough he'll harden up, grab your hair and face fuck you while he calls you his good girl.

Then there's the aftercare, his arms around you, maybe groping your tits or arse as you cuddle, he reinforces that you're a good girl for taking everything he just did to you. The slight pain of the sex is starting to creep in now and the thought of going home to your partner, but you don't care you're already thinking about seeing him again.

Does this sound like you? Are you a closeted good girl who isn't getting her kinks met and her cunt is under used? Have you not had a real orgasm in quite a while?

Ask me anything you want and remember, absolute discretion is key.

​Let’s talk about the quiet tragedy of your bedroom.

​You lie there at night, staring at the ceiling, feeling the dull ache of a desire that hasn't been properly met in years. Maybe he’s "tired," maybe he thinks five minutes of clumsy friction and a "you okay, babe?" is enough. It’s not. It’s an insult to a woman like you. He’s become comfortable with your neglect, assuming that because you’re a "good wife" or a "loyal partner," you’ve simply forgotten what it feels like to be hunted, handled, and thoroughly possessed.

​He’s forgotten that you aren't just a roommate or a co-parent—you are a sexual creature with a body that was designed to be used until it’s trembling.

​Here is what you’ve been missing while he’s been sleeping:

​The Anticipation: I don’t do "polite." When I see you, I want you to feel the shift in the air. I’m the man who grabs you by the waist the moment the door shuts, pulling you flush against me so you can feel exactly how much I want you. I want to see that flash of panic and heat in your eyes when you realize that, for the first time in a long time, you aren't in control anymore.

​The Worship: While he ignores what’s between your legs, I make it my masterpiece. I want to spend an eternity with your legs draped over my shoulders, my tongue working with a slow, agonizing precision until you’re sobbing into the pillows. I want to taste your frustration turning into pure, liquid desperation, dragging out every moan he’s been too lazy to earn.

​The Claiming: When I finally decide you’ve had enough teasing, I’m not going to ask. I’m going to flip you over, grab a handful of your hair, and remind your "under-used" pussy what it was made for. I’m talking about deep, raw, rhythmic thrusts that make the headboard count the seconds—the kind of fuck that makes your mind go blank and your toes curl until they cramp.

​The Aftermath: When I’m done filling you up, I’m not going to roll over and check my phone. I’m going to hold you close, my hand still possessively gripping your hip or your breast, letting the sting of the friction and the heat of the sweat remind you that you are alive. You’ll go home with a secret smile and a sore body, finally satisfied, while he remains none the wiser that someone else finally did the job he was too weak to finish.

​If you’re tired of being the only one in your house who knows how to satisfy a woman, it’s time to stop settling. Your body is a temple that he’s let fall into ruin, I’m here to rebuild it.

​Message me and tell me the exact moment you realized your partner wasn't enough. Tell me what he’s too afraid to do to you, and let’s talk about how I’ll fix that.