I Used To Think I Was Good At French

queer, polya, and kinky 18+ only unsolicited dicks will be blocked “hey” messages will be ignored

[jesuistetue]

Nothing better than being naked and remote

[jesuistetue]

Reblogging outdoor n00dity now that butts are apparently above board again 👀

[jesuistetue]

Nothing better than being naked and remote

[tsunamiwavesurfing]

tumblr banned porn but i see it everyday on here this shit like alcohol in the prohibition era

[kamisama-kitsune]

I spent a weekend in the wild finding flowers 🌸

[quickienewyork]

When Autumn Leaves

New York isn’t the same when she leaves.  “Autumn,” I say when she calls to tell me goodbye, “we don’t do well without you.  We need you to keep us sane.” “I love you all,” is what she tells me, and she means it too. There is longing in her voice–she cries whenever she goes–but go she does, and there’s nothing to be done about it. When she comes back, it’s another thing.  She blows into town on a quiet wind and somehow we all know.  We don’t organize or make plans, but we gather around her for the short time she’s here and there’s more love, sex, and joy to go around than we can imagine. Fighting over Autumn is a silly thing to do, but she has to remind us every time.  When she ends up in my bed I can’t help but hold her tight and ask about her other lovers.  She answers warmly and holds me too, but it’s just me who’s far away. Her mind is never stuck in the past.  It’s just mine that’s wondering and guessing. She’s as present as can be. When she undresses I can only watch.  Each garment has a story told just for me, and her layers fall to the floor without sound.  She stands naked in front of me and stretches her arms above her head before leaning in for a kiss. “My body missed you,” she says, and I pull her to me and we kiss for hours.  She’s still amazed at my touch and she moves over my body so slowly I can barely stand it.  Sometimes I’m not even sure if we’ve made love when the sun comes up, but it never really matters.  I’ve tasted every inch of her body and we’ve come together and alone more times than we can remember.  Breakfast is as important as the night before and of course she drinks tea. We sit and talk, and I feel like the most important person in the world.  I feel like her oldest and dearest friend, and I can’t believe she’ll ever go.   When she does finally walk out the door she kisses me and holds my hand until she’s off the step and onto the sidewalk.  She never looks back over her shoulder–no matter how long I watch–and I know that soon someone else will feel like the world is turning just for them. We miss her when she’s gone.  And when she’s here, we can barely hold on.

–Guy New York

[parasoli]

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.”

— Sylvia Plath.

[luuciaarce]

[lanangon]

[whataminoww]

[genterie]

source: unknown

[genterie]

Jen Mazza, Books and fingers

[lovespotions]

[michaelfaudetpoems]

[genterie]

source: unknown

[genterie]

[rapaziou]

[ofmandalorians]

I can’t have sex with you, because I’ll fall in love with you. And if I fall in love with you, I won’t burst into flames, but my life will be  f u c k e d .

[jesuistetue]

So anyway I'm clearly still not over this