If this shows up in your feed, consider it a blessing or a warning. Your choice.

If Sunday had a mood
It’s be this …

Thighs shaking, core wrecked, soaked through and still grinding it out like it’s the only way I’ll get to come.

titty tuesday. sunlight hits just right, silk slips a little too easy, and the chaos feels kind of holy.

Lace riding high, legs in the air, and not a single thought in my head except how good it’s gonna feel when you grab my thighs and don’t stop until I forget my name.

They say hump day is about “getting over” the hump. Personally, I think it’s about getting under it, on top of it, or just stopping to admire the view. 🍑

My shirt is white, my coffee is strong, my patience for Tuesday is gone.

Sun’s out, attitude’s out.

thigh thursday confession:
you could spend hours between them and still not find all the ways they beg to be touched.
soft enough to cradle your face.
strong enough to lock you in.
wet enough to ruin your plans.