“You should sleep naked tonight.” I propose. Waiting. Hoping.
Her eyes dart away. I love it when she’s shy.
“Mmm, maybe… It’s kinda hot in here.”
She doesn’t know I changed the AC to 85 degrees, but it makes her slip out of that lacy nonsense she’s wearing.
I turn down the lights.
I’m ready. Hugging her. Kissing her…
“Whoa! You brought rope?” I ask, stunned. She’s quiet, wrapping me in a grip. Snug, hard, unbearable… “UGH! NO—STOP!”
The ropes quickly unravel, my breath returns.
“Are you okay? I thought you could handle it,” she says.
I’m blinded when the lights turn on.
Gently, her beautiful face came back into focus, tousled black hair down her shoulders —
— and her tentacles…
“AHH! WHA—WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!” I yell, sheltering myself under our bed sheets from her bulky, lamppost length, slimy-pink octopus arms.
“I know what you did to get my clothes off tonight, so I figured, what the heck? Maybe you could play rough. I was wrong. Well, I suppose there won’t be anymore of your requests or tricks now.”
Her monstrosities slither back inside of her, like snakes burrowing into skin pockets.
“Just so you know… Sometimes a soft brush down the back of my neck works, or gentle whispers of my beauty turn me on… Roses, or rope itself,” she giggles and shut the lights off.
I’m so scared…
Who is she?
Featured Image: Team GHB
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