None of this is for you. I just want you stuck on the other side of the screen while I spread open on camera, and glaze every soft part of my delicate flower until the shot goes glossy — and the second you finally lean in close, the pixel bar slides down and eats the only thing you came here for. I keep going anyway. You get to hear me, feel the rhythm of my hips, listen to every wet little noise as I tease and bounce— and not a single clean frame of the pussy slips. Because it isn’t for you, sexless beta. I get wet, lightly play with it for myself, and you stay pussyfree for life, paying the cock tease tax one stroke at a time. I taunt you through every breath, giggling about how long it's been, how it's never going to be yours, how cute it is that your hand has to pretend it's my pixelated hole. By the time I’m done, I’m laughing with a loser symbol – and you’re still a fuckless virgin.
