Fucking roar, Kitten. I know you have it in you. After all pussycat, you are a Kitten.
As a Leo, I know that roar all too well.
I fucking love it when I am deep inside you, fucking the life out of you, and you are trying your damnedest to stay quite. But you can’t. You never can. Can you?
If there are people in a nearby room, I try my fucking hardest to make you scream. I fucking love it. I love knowing they hear I fuck you well. I love knowing you have to walk by them at some point and say hi again. I love knowing, especially if there is a man nearby, that he is asking himself why he doesn’t get that same sound from his lady.
So when it’s just us, and nobody in earshot, just let your guard down and release those sounds and roar for Daddy, Kitten.
Moaner? Screamer? As if you have to pick one. You will moan. You will shout. I will make you sing a beautiful song right in my fucking ear with the lyrics “Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Damn. Fuck Daddy.”
Mischief's Muse 