“Men don’t cry” all mine did, you’re doing something wrong
☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻
Claire Keane
Today's Document

pixel skylines

shark vs the universe

#extradirty

Kaledo Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
noise dept.
Show & Tell
Peter Solarz

ellievsbear

Product Placement
Not today Justin

No title available

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Mike Driver
Sweet Seals For You, Always

seen from Türkiye
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia

seen from Sweden

seen from Germany
seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Finland

seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from T1
@in-geneva
“Men don’t cry” all mine did, you’re doing something wrong
☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻
what’s the point of having hands if he don’t squeeze her tits when he’s eating her pussy?
aaahhhhhhhh 😩😩😩😩😩
He’d crept in while i slept, breath hitching as he finally peeled the thin tank top off my chest. My tits he’d jerked off to for months now bare and begging, bouncing. His cock throbbed as he squeezed one of them tight, thumbs circling my nipple, tucking while he whispered, “Fucking perfect… just like I knew you’d be.”
Fuck
Stalker!Toji Fushiguro~~You barely had time to scream before Toji had you hauled over his massive shoulder like a ragdoll, one thick arm locked around your thighs as he stalked down the alley.
“Fuck, you’re so small,” he growled, voice low and panting against your curved ass, he gripped tighter, fingers digging into your flesh. “So soft. So easy to carry. You’ve got no idea what that does to me.”
You kicked, punched his back, breathless and snarling, “You’re out of your goddamn mind!”
He just laughed—a deep, guttural sound that rumbled in his chest. “No, baby. I’m obsessed. You think I watched you all this time to not take you?“
The door to his place slammed behind him. He dumped you onto the bed like you weighed nothing, his hulking frame immediately crawling over you, eyes wild, cock already tenting his pants
“You gonna scream again?” he hissed, grabbing both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Or are you gonna admit you’re dripping for it? I can smell you.”
“You’re insane,” you spat, writhing beneath him—but your voice trembled.
He leaned down, pressing the weight of his chest against your heavy breasts, his lips ghosting yours. “Maybe. But I’m gonna be the last man who touches you. This body’s mine now.”
His free hand slipped down, fingers thick and rough as they slid between your thighs, groaning when he found just how soaked you were, you mewled loudly thrashing against his hands
“Knew it,” he growled. “Fucking knew you were made for me.”
I don’t have red flags, I have archetypes you can’t handle.
It’s not always about sex, not always about having a partner or begging to be loved back. Sometimes it’s about cozily sitting with your legs tucked under you, grasping your coffee cup staring at the skyline through the French doors on the 19th floor of your condo under the gloomy evening breeze, where you silently hang out with friends who are also their own person instead of sucking your energy off to breathe.