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I’m one of those people who, in the profound words of Malcolm in the Middle, “casseroles”. It takes me a while to get used to something that’s new or changed. It happens, I don’t process it, and suddenly: ding! 

This is especially true when people stay over or I stay over with someone. Even when I was a child sleeping over my grandmother’s. I’d be in this kind of limbo state where I felt neither here nor there.

Suddenly, I’d have this moment where I’d be like, “oh, I’m here now.” And then it feels like it’s been forever.

This is, of course, especially harsh when the separation occurs. Not saying I get separation anxiety, but I just “casserole” all over again. 

keepingitinthefamily:

She won’t believe he’s home until she wakes up where he is.

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Finally, I’ve found something new and exciting on my television to watch. 

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Fitting that girl into that cage is a near-impossible squeeze. Coming from the girl who struggled through geometry. Or whatever the hell math/science/WD-40 would explain getting that girl into that cage.

iwanttohurtyou:

This years Christmas card.

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And I’ve got chills.

harlette:

She’s a model, it’s obvious. Nothing but dirt and dust around her, and not even a smudge on her. She likes posing for these dirty pictures, giggles about it with her girlfriends. Why not have some fun with these pervs? And it pays well.

When she looks up, she’ll see that the camera is standing alone on its tripod. Everyone has left and the door is locked. I don’t know how long they’ll leave her there, but she won’t be this clean again.

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Once I picked up on how effective it was, I used to make my lady go crazy with this move. (Great, now I sound like a geezer…) 

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“I told you I was curious. I never said that I was brave.” – Leonard Cohen, in the song “So Long, Marianne”.

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There’s a ballgag waiting on the bed for schoolgirl when she is done. Puppygirl watches patiently, but eagerly. Sharing is caring. 

escravoroger-rf:

Da Sex and Submission.

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I know it’s a reflection, but I had a girlfriend who I used to do this with a lot when we were just idling around in bed.

Yes, the knifeplay one. Yes, I’ll eventually write part two of that memoir.