I wank every 2 or 3 days, I guess.
I don’t squirt tonnes but I cum a bit and it’s thick, usually.
Luckily I haven’t had to wank for a while. Perks of dating - woot woot.
(Source: tobiji)
A Lovely Column
I had a dream that I saw your name in the newspaper, next to mine. We’d done something profound — together, you and I. I remember looking at your name, printed in the boring font that it is always printed in, crammed into the boring column it will always be crammed into; and what I felt when I read those letters that spelled your name in that sentence, was love.
I felt a love that was a product of a thousand years. A love like a grand oak tree that had endured many Winters but was now flourishing in a blissful, everlasting Summer. A love the ages had not withered, but nurtured, promoted and expanded.
Then, I awoke — left to wonder why I was in my bed, shivering in the cold with the unkind rays the of early-morning sun scorning my battering eyes. I felt an enormous sense of defeat after that; not because of the dreary Winter’s day that I had woken to and was undoubtedly expected to face that day, but because I was not in love with you — or anyone, for that matter.
And that was all my fault.
You don’t talk to me much anymore
Never first, anyway.
I wonder why.
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Anonymous asked: how often do you wank and do you squirt a lot or a little when you cum? |
Azura — Queen of Dawn and Dusk, The Mother Soul
Boethiah — Goddess of Destruction, She-Who-Erases
Nocturnal — the Night Mistress, Lady Luck
Meridia — Lady of Life and Infinite Energies
spooning leads to forking
that sounds knife
IT’S TMI TUESDAY.
The Broken heart and a Band-Aid.
“Why are you wearing that?” he asked, curiously. “What did you do?”
I ran my fingers across the band-aid that I had placed on the left side of my chest.
“I had hurt myself,” I said plainly, as if beneath it were but a small cut or scrape and no more.
Little was he or anyone else to know that the band-aid was not placed there for any wound on my skin, but lay there for the heart in my chest, which was beating to a sad rhythm of shame and regret.
The band-aid was there to hold a chipped heart together and to keep me from falling apart.
