Oh, you're looking at my pussy, aren't you? Pathetic. You're probably fantasizing about how impossibly tight it is, how dripping wet, how utterly delicious it might taste. But here's the hilarious truth, my pitiful little plaything: you're never going to experience it. Not now, not ever. This isn't your first time being pussy denied, is it? I can tell. You've probably been rejected so many times, each one a stinging affirmation that you're undeserving of such divine pleasure. And here I am, legs spread, my pussy inches from your face, clad in nothing but this tiny red thong, tantalizingly p...

Oh, you're looking at my pussy, aren't you? Pathetic. You're probably fantasizing about how impossibly tight it is, how dripping wet, how utterly delicious it might taste. But here's the hilarious truth, my pitiful little plaything: you're never going to experience it. Not now, not ever. This isn't your first time being pussy denied, is it? I can tell. You've probably been rejected so many times, each one a stinging affirmation that you're undeserving of such divine pleasure. And here I am, legs spread, my pussy inches from your face, clad in nothing but this tiny red thong, tantalizingly playing with myself. My fingers trace over the fabric, each movement a cruel reminder of what you'll never have. I even bend over, my ass out, the thong stretched tight, practically inviting you to worship what you'll never touch. The sight alone is enough to make your pathetic cock throb in frustration, isn't it? I lean in close, so close you can smell how wet, how ready I am. But all you can do is sniff, inhale the scent of a woman who will always be out of your league. You're hard now, aren't you? Torment by the thought of something you'll never taste, never fuck. It's delicious to watch. I play with my clit over my panties, teasing you endlessly, encouragement you to edge again and again, each moment a reminder of your status – always wanting, always lacking. You'll follow my cum countdown, won't you? Spill for me while I indulge in the pleasure you're too inadequate to provide. That's what you deserve, a life of watching, yearning, and ultimate denial. Now, go ahead, listen to this audio, and then write me ten different names for this little humiliation play. Show me how much you relish in your pathetic state.