Gnawing on the Pencil as if It Was Your Meat - Part 1

09:45
Faith Eros
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Published: 28.03.2025 More info Hide

You’re sitting next to Faith, close enough to hear the scrape of her teeth against wood, the soft pressure as she bites down, releases, and repeats. It’s a rhythm now, something you’ve tuned into without meaning to. The pencil wears down between her teeth, indentations marking every absent-minded chew. And then—her attention shifts. The pencil isn’t enough. You feel it before you process it. A teasing press of her teeth against your skin—light at first, testing. Then firmer, like she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. The warmth of her breath lingers, the slight sting where her bite deepens just enough to leave a mark. Not enough to hurt—just enough to make your pulse skip. She leans back, her eyes meeting yours with something unreadable. The pencil dangles loosely from her lips, but you know now—it was never really about the pencil.

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