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You already have me completely, do you really not fucking see?
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still-trying-to-be-horny: Just want a pretty girl to pose for a silly selfie with my dick whilst she’s sucking it. :(
Just want a pretty girl to pose for a silly selfie with my dick whilst she's sucking it. :(
still-trying-to-be-horny: Just want a pretty girl to pose for a silly selfie with my dick whilst she’s sucking it. :(
grlstlker: sucking on your fingers and grinding on your bulge until my brain turns off
sucking on your fingers and grinding on your bulge until my brain turns off
grlstlker: sucking on your fingers and grinding on your bulge until my brain turns off
everyone deserves to feel safe & loved
teresabeans: everyone deserves to feel safe & loved
anonymousblackmale: I need to watch you play with it.
I need to watch you play with it.
anonymousblackmale: I need to watch you play with it.
srcee: oh to be held by arms that know every part of me
oh to be held by arms that know every part of me
srcee: oh to be held by arms that know every part of me
That’s the way we like to fuck!
renadria: That’s the way we like to fuck!
olderbootbutch: i dont want to bother you i just want to come up behind you and rest my chin on your shoulder and casually ask “whatcha doing?” while groping your tits you know what i mean
i dont want to bother you i just want to come up behind you and rest my chin on your shoulder and casually ask "whatcha doing?"...
olderbootbutch: i dont want to bother you i just want to come up behind you and rest my chin on your shoulder and casually ask “whatcha doing?” while groping your tits you know what i mean
ss-writess: There was a time when I thought poetry was weak- a prettier form of speaking for people afraid to say what they mean. I preferred certainty. Numbers. Systems that stayed in line. Things that could be measured cleanly, like gravity, distance, or time. Then I met you. And suddenly language began to fail, like signals disappearing from a ship too far beyond the veil. Because how am I supposed to describe you plainly? How do I explain the way my thoughts distort around your name, like light bending near stars too massive to remain the same? How do I tell you that your presence alters rooms the way moons alter tides, without sounding consumed? I can’t. That is why people write poetry. Because sometimes emotion arrives too large for ordinary speech to survive, like trying to hold a galaxy still while watching it expand alive. You made simple sentences useless. “I love you” feels painfully small for something that rearranged my mind, for someone who made the universe itself feel briefly easier to find. So I reach for stars instead. For orbit. For collapse. For constellations dying slowly while still pouring out light into the black. Because astronomy is the only language I know vast enough to compare you to. And even then, it fails. Space can be mapped. Stars can be named. But there is still something about loving you that refuses to stay contained. Maybe that is all poetry really is- the human heart attempting to translate impossible scale, using rhythm and metaphor where direct language fails. And you… you are the only person who ever made me understand why some feelings become poems instead of simply being said.
There was a time when I thought poetry was weak- a prettier form of speaking for people afraid to say what they mean. I...
ss-writess: There was a time when I thought poetry was weak- a prettier form of speaking for people afraid to say what they mean. I preferred certainty. Numbers. Systems that stayed in line. Things that could be measured cleanly, like gravity, distance, or time. Then I met you. And suddenly language began to fail, like signals disappearing from a ship
sadimasterr: brygcoin : Now I know why it’s called a barrel roll!
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submissivepetal: I fucking love being a tease and being teased. Teasing is top tier.
I fucking love being a tease and being teased. Teasing is top tier.
submissivepetal: I fucking love being a tease and being teased. Teasing is top tier.
“I, myself, am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.” ― Augusten Burroughs
dreaming-in-techni-color: “I, myself, am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.” ― Augusten Burroughs
662244: share music with me whenever
share music with me whenever
662244: share music with me whenever
