#dirty paper

[spoczkot]

Vintage soldier uniform

[old-paper-backgrounds]

These creeping lines of grey and off-white are a testament to the forgotten past - an ancient path that has been long trodden. Rich layers

[old-paper-backgrounds]

Misty tendrils of webbed ink writhe on the expanse of grey. Dirty rivers snaking along an old canvas, layered with years of distress and u

[pepe-ronie]

Es un oc en estado mas embrionario que Daron, mas políticamente incorrecto, edgy. UN pillo que siempre cae en cuatro patas. Y gay porque no. Es un dibujo viejo de este año y aun así creo que es la cara que me ha salido menos hortera. Eso si los barritos en el cuello no te cortan el rollo. ¿Por qué todos mis dibujos tienen afecciones cutáneas?

[june-violet]

March 31st in red. What color will April be? (and will it be too hot for boots?)

[paperficwriter]

Ooh, how about some Batarou breathplay?

I’d just like to put out there for context: I am currently sitting inside a Panera Bread, eating a bagel, drinking sweet iced green tea. I am in a booth and one would have to try pretty hard to see what I’m writing.

Nevertheless, here we are.

Breathplay: The restriction of breathing, usually during sex, to gain erotic satisfaction.  Can be done by one’s partner(see erotic asphyxiation) or alone (see auto-erotic asphyxiation).

I really just wanted to make sure people knew this before proceeding. #themoreyouknow

DIRTY PAPER WARNING AGAIN.

—

He had asked for this.

Those words repeated over and over in Badd’s head as he started to drift out of his own body, like a god of death overseeing one’s final moments. The sensations resonated faintly, and on the periphery of what was happening, he was aware of several things:

Garou, his cock hammering into him, harder now than before. And he was so close, his breaths short little growling huffs. One large hand stroked his back, cooling, comforting, a slap in the face to everything else.

His hands, cuffed to the bed. Some kind of metal that DC’s doctor friend had cooked up for arresting villains. Did it actually surprise him when Garou stole a pair at dinner with the couple?

His knees, digging into the floor.

His hair, falling into his face.

And the belt from his hero costume, the thin leather strap, wrapped around his throat, pulled tight, constricting and separating him in two: his body below, his head above.

He had asked for this.

Garou bit into his shoulder, and Badd took that as meaning that his orgasm was approaching, a stampede that would break through him and into Badd. There was no point even attempting to breathe at this point, the belt had completely closed off his windpipe, even his esophagus. No swallowing. No speaking. No oxygen. Oh, God, no oxygen. His hands instinctively fought against the cuffs, trying to bring them up so he could tear at the strip, but no. This was it. This was it.

And then, as dark and light was warring in his eyes, Garou hnngg’d in his ear, pulsing inside of him, filling him entirely, and the belt went slack. When Badd came, it was like a dam breaking. Blood rushed through him, and with it a powerful stream of seed. It shot out so hard and fast that it hit his fists, painted the floor, and he gasped. For relief, for release, surfing back into life on the cresting swell of a wave that was both pleasure and terror.

Seconds passed, and then the belt was slipped off. Garou held his face in his hands, licking softly at the red ring of bruising on Badd’s throat. Garou’s strange feral comfort always soothed him. Breathing was taking a conscious effort that it otherwise wouldn’t have been, and he knew it might take a day or so to heal entirely.

But it was worth it.

He had asked for this.

[paperficwriter]

75, Batarou

Inventing a secret sex language to use in public

“I’m getting a bit hungry.”

“Yeah? Like…peckish or do ya want a full meal?”

“Hmm…I’m pretty open. How about you? In the mood for anything?”

“I could definitely eat. I mean…still pretty full from earlier, yeah?”

“I think we both know that you have a big appetite, though…”

“S’true, s’true…maybe some place I can get, like…finger food?”

“That can be good. So long as I can get a good variety. I like to sample the buffet.”

“Greedy.”

“What about something sweet?”

“I always like dessert…that’s not usually your gig, though.”

“I get a craving now and then. Just with you, though. I don’t get dessert with any of my other friends.”

“Ya better not.”

“Don’t be like that. You know I never eat out with anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve wanted to get grub with Sai and DC.”

“Again, only if you’re there. But this would just be you and me. Let’s go home. We can get something delivered. Watch something on TV.”

“Do I get to pick what we watch?”

“Of course. I trust your taste.”

“I’m gonna quote you on that when I pick something weird off the menu.”

“And then I can eat it off of you.”

“Dude. If you say that, it defeats the whole purpose of this.”

“You say that, but you’re blushing. And don’t think I didn’t notice you walking a bit faster.”

“Shut up.”

[worxtore-blog]

5 old stained paper textures

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A4 (2480×3508 px);

CMYK;

300 DPI;

Files included: 5 PSD and 5 JPG file.