I’ve always had a thing for letting guys finish inside me.. it’s hard to explain, but it’s the rawness of it that gets me every time. The way his movements grow frantic, his breathing heavy, and that final moment when he grabs me and buries himself as deep as he can. There’s something so electric about watching him completely give in, like nothing else matters except that release.

It’s not just about the physical.. it’s the look in his eyes afterward. The mixture of pride, relief, and gratitude, like I’ve done something no one else could. That moment feels like pure power, and I crave it every time.

I know it’s risky, but when I’m ovulating, I can’t stop fantasizing about getting pregnant. The thought of it.. the thrill of knowing I could be carrying his child.. sends shivers down my spine. It’s the idea of telling him, of watching his reaction, whether he panics, leaves, or stays, that feeds the fantasy.

It’s not something I’d ever share out loud, but there’s a part of me that loves the chaos of it, the recklessness. Maybe it’s crazy, but I’ve never been one to shy away from what I want.