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I can’t explain it fully- the insatiable ache, this twisted pleasure in imagining him with someone else. It gnaws at me, like being on the edge of betrayal yet drawn to it with the same raw desire that pulls me to him. Maybe it’s jealousy; maybe it’s the rush of forbidden indulgence.
It feels primal, almost animalistic, a craving that blurs lines I once thought were clear. Maybe it’s that part of me that craves to surrender all control, every climax tangled to visions of him with another, and it pushes me over the edge.
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- 3 weeks ago
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