He didn’t have to say much.
Just pressed play on my obedience
and left me to drown in it.

A few seconds of skin,
a glimpse of him gripped in his own hand,
that girthy cock—familiar, brutal, divine—
claiming space in my mind before I could catch my breath.

No instructions.
No demands.
Just… this.

A casual cruelty wrapped in arousal—
a feast I couldn’t touch,
a hunger he knew I’d carry all day.

And then, with that smirk in his voice:
“Have a good hump day.”

Like he hadn’t just wrecked me.
Like he hadn’t just left me soaked and silent,
clenching around the absence of him.

Now I lay here, useless,
toys untouched, fingers denied—
because nothing I do will come close
to the ache he left behind.

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