//=time() ?>
Let's have a moment of silence for the prey of Valentine's day. They finally work up the courage to profess their love to the predator of their dreams, only to find out that they're more appetizing than any box of chocolates.
Don't take this the wrong way, but I want to end you. I want to pleasure you beyond anything you've ever felt, surround you with my dominance and turn every piece of you into a piece of me.
I want you to stop being you. I want you to be me.
Uuuugh, I need a squishy pred. <3 Just smoosh me down in all that softness and lose me.
I adore belches after digestion. Not only is the sign of a satisfied predator hot, but it's the implication that really does it.
That used to be someone. A few minutes ago, they had a future. Hopes, dreams and aspirations. Now they don't. Their future was stolen and processed.
I never knew how much I needed a big-hipped deer predator until I got one.
This Halloween, you're going as a giant owl.
You have no choice in the matter.