‘Desmond needs to suck my dick.’
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I hope Desmond likes to eat ass… Because I want him to eat my ass and then proceed to fuck it.
Clay and Desmond have a friendly contest to see who can make me cum harder. By the end, I’m a quivering wet mess. They cuddle up on either side of me and gently kiss my ears and neck as I fall asleep, exhausted from pleasure.
‘I find myself wondering if Desmond is a biter. Cause I’ve often thought about him biting marks into my neck and all over my body….FOR SCIENCE’
Confession [@egyptiandeathgod]
‘I imagined Desmond imitating Salt Bae and “it’s all about savoring the flavour.” Me being like “How about you taste mine~?” (You get my drift. Also how fun would it be to get shit faced with Desmond?)’
Confession [@egyptiandeathgod]
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‘Desmond and me just captured a high-ranked Templar agent, and tied him up. We make our captive spill his secrets, then he has to watch Desmond and I have a long juicy fuck session. And then, afterwards, we kill him.’
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‘When I feel bad about my extra weight, I can always imagine my bf Desmond worshipping those pudgy bits, kissing and caressing my lovely tummy, massaging my thick thighs. A 69 would be great for this, and we’d drink each other up to the last drop.’
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I often imagine myself at Abstergo, where I rip off Desmond’s clothes and end up pegging him on the Animus, so hard that all he can do is moan and beg for more. The idea of being his mistress, pushing him against the machine while I fuck his ass like there’s no tomorrow excites me in a way I believe nothing else would do.