Yesterday, someone said to me “don’t be nice, it doesn’t suit you.”
I’ve always suspected something like that.
Talking, teasing, manipulating, debating, and delighting
Yesterday, someone said to me “don’t be nice, it doesn’t suit you.”
I’ve always suspected something like that.
Kidnap me. Lock me up in your basement and tell me you’re only doing it because you love me so much, you want me all to yourself♡.
That seems much better than my idea, which was to kidnap you, lock you in the basement, and tell you I’m only doing it because I’m too cheap to hire a maid.
It’s hard to have a male superiority kink when men are so stupid
Nonsense; that’s what makes it kinky. If the male population weren’t a seething hotbed of half-witted mendacity, misplaced aggression, and weaponized asshattery, then “male superiority” would just be vanilla fucking.
It’s only when you acknowledge the full extent of male stupidity that you can truly appreciate how delightfully deviant and arguably misguided it is to turn one of us loose on your holes.
dumbbigtittedslut-deactivated20:
Between the shadow and the soul.
Xoxo,
Dbts
I hear that neighborhood’s really in decline. Because of, y’know, all the whores…
Just followed a few new blogs and I think this is the part where I feel a little disgusting about myself because of the stuff I apparently like.
I hope this feeling passes.
It only passes when your conscience dies.
How badly do you want to kill it?
Like, petrified wood hard? Obsidian? Diamond?
An alloy of adamantium, vibranium, and mithril, inscribed and enchanted with the full text of my credit card terms & conditions. That hard.
I can’t help being this cuddly; it’s in my nature.
why play with her feelings when you can play with her clit
Because playing with her feelings gets me off.
I have regular sex with a guy who puts his shoes on first after he gets out of the shower. Weirdo is just walking around in loafers, like that’s a thing people do.
It’s just a subtle way of telling you to clean the floor.
If this is the best version of my ideal self, I don’t know who’s in more trouble: me, or the lot of you.