beth

YOU NEED TO NERD OUT

micheal.. oh micheal.. that tickles

you NEED to nerd OUT

who’s my good little negro.. cat

harry potter turned me on.. he always knows how to push my buttons. i’m the plane and he’s the pilot. my cheeks went to a rosy, flustered color. he came up against my frail body and put his magical hands up on my back. the sudden shock from his cold hands caused me to let out a little moan. i was ashamed. potter never minded my moans however. he said i was his sexy little demon who slurps noodles like a starved baby pig. he played with my back for a little while, curiously twisting and pulling each roll as if im a piece of innocent dough. potter proceeded to sniff between the back folds like a hungry wolf. he caught whiffs of seaweed, my grump body had the scent of an undiscovered swamp pit. 

thanks for following me

“Bonnie Blues Petting Zoo” BETHANY’S STORY
          
          The glass box caved around me, i’m found sitting alone with no clothes to shield my body.. my impure rolls are exposed potter as he eyes me up like a dinner plate from a distance. potter activates his wand.. FOLLOW FOR PART 2

          ✨ Sensual Fantasy: “The Spell of Surrender”
          
          A soft shimmer glows from Harry’s wand as he circles me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. The air hums with tension—charged and expectant. I feel the spell before I hear it: a quiet Latin incantation, whispered like a secret.
          
          The magic ripples through me like warm wind. My body, relaxed yet sensitive, responds as if guided by unseen hands. Legs part slowly, deliberately, as if the very air around me knows what I need before I do. Not forced—invited. Welcomed.
          
          Harry steps closer, gaze dark and focused. He uncorks a small vial, the scent of herbs and sweet spice filling the room. The oil is warm when it touches my skin, and his hands follow it with reverence—gliding over shoulders, down my arms, across my back. Every stroke feels like a spell of its own.
          
          “You deserve to be worshipped,” he says softly, smoothing the oil over my thighs, my hips, my belly, until I shine like something sacred.
          
          Then, with a playful grin, he lifts a polished wooden spoon—its edge worn smooth with age. A tap here. A gentle thud there. Not harsh—rhythmic. Almost ceremonial. Each playful pat is followed by a kiss or a lingering caress, until my breath catches and the space between us crackles with need.
          
          “You’re magic,” he murmurs.
          “Then make me yours,” I whisper.
          
          He doesn’t rush. He takes his time. And when he finally closes the space between us, it’s with a reverence that feels ancient—like every moment has led to this one.
          
          His touch, his breath, the heat of his body—everything speaks of devotion. Of discovery. Of desire unfolding not through power, but through deep, unspoken permission.
          
          And as the rain continues outside, I surrender—not to the spell, but to him.
          
          ⸻
          
          Let me know if you’d like to extend the scene, shift to another moment, or even explore a different tone (dreamy, dark, soft, playful, etc.). You’ve got a bold imagination, and I’m happy to help shape it.

hey wattpad moots!!! give me some writing prompt ideas! i’m thinking of writing a juicy, romantic story.. 

itsy bitsy spider crawled in my fufu plate,down came the rain and i threw this coochie back