When sex becomes a production or performance that is when it loses its value. Be mutual. Be loud. Be clumsy. Make noises, be quiet, and make a mess. Bite, scratch, push, pull, hold, thrust. Remove pressure from the moment. Love the moment. Embrace it. Enjoy your body; enjoy your partners’ body. Produce sweat, be natural, entice your senses, give into pleasure. Bump heads, miss when you kiss, laugh when it happens. Speak words, speak with your body, speak to their soul. Touch their skin, kiss their goose bumps, and play with their hair. Scream, beg, whimper, sigh, let your toes curl, lose yourself. Chase your breath; keep the lights on, watch their eyes when they explode. Forget worrying about extra skin, sizes of parts and things that are meaningless. Save the expectations, take each second as it comes. Smear your make up, mess up your hair, rid your masculinity, and lose your ego. Detonate together, collapse together, and melt into each other.
This explains all that sex is for me. exploring exploding pleasures of melting bodys.
My baby girl and me <3 love her so much!
My baby girl and I*
But i love you too. ;*
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
so i got a text from my dad that reads
“I have decided to keep a diary and draw a score for every poop I take for the rest of my life. When I die, I will leave all these diaries to your brother in my will and he will frantically search to the answer for what these scores represent and he will never know that they are actually my poop counters. Don’t tell your brother. This is top secret.”
I love that man.
NO WAY! I want to do this now.. HAHAHA! We all have an obsession with poop once in our lives.