Sometimes, sweetness is control. There’s a condescension to it at times. Others, it just stresses the levels of authority. There’s a right and a power that comes with being in the position to treat someone sweetly in such a way. It’s to say that you can clear away the clouds with the same power with which you can bring the storm.
Month: March 2012
Ever explored the difference between equity and equality in anthropological thought? Fascinating and at times challenging ideas to contextualize for someone committed to justice work. That said, equality can be a challenging notion when you get to the heart of it as well.
StandardAgh, seeeriously, guys, I made this blog to escape thinking about things.
I jest. A wonderful point, something I have done some reading and thinking on. And I am definitely guilty of thoughtlessly substituting equality and equity for each other when I’m feeling lazy. Oops.
Of course even my porn blog turns into an intellectual debate. Though I’m not fully upset about this.
True Story: I own one of these buggers and I am way too sensitive to use it for very long.
Other True Story: I was once tied down with this thing on me for about half an hour. Excruciating. Sub-space like no other.
A Different True Story: The warm weather is giving me some freckles and they look a lot like hers.
Sometimes, she’ll find her breakfast and a list of tasks when she wakes up. It’s never so much chores as preparation. Most times, it’s as simple as a pair of handcuffs or a collar. Others, it’s a bit more complicated. It’s a process, a set of steps up to preparing herself for a day to come.
She knows better than to do anything else but follow the list. Even when she doesn’t like its contents. Especially when she doesn’t like its contents.
The alternative is always worse. And obedience is always rewarding.
You all are a bunch of pervs for mostly suggesting I go naked. As for the legitimate clothing suggestions, thank you.
My friend took pity last night and came over. She dug out some tall wedges, a high-waisted skirt, and this little tank top. I insisted that it was a little over the top, but she replied that it was just fine. Aside from formals and other sorts of events, I typically stick to skinny jeans and a top or a casual cute dress when going out. The difference would be perceptible and I didn’t want him to think I was like some kind of seventh grader smearing glitter all over myself for my first date to the movies where our parents would be watching from a few rows behind.
Well. He noticed.
In a just staring when he thought I wasn’t looking way. In a very eagerly offering to rub my back when I told him it was a bit sore way. In a desperate attempt to keep his hands to himself while I was sitting on his lap and he was rubbing my back way.
We still had our banter, but it seemed to be riddled with knowing smiles and little chuckles. Sometime during the night, I was told by this random gay guy that my legs were “pure sex”. I blushed and sort of leaned back against him as I thanked the guy who had said it. From the look I was getting over my shoulder, I think he agreed.
We had a great time, but the evening was cut short due to some stuff not really related to either of us. Maybe I could’ve gone home with him, but I didn’t. I sort of want to leave a little bit to mystery,
(via traveling with the ghost (旧館 Old): Олег Михеев (Oleg Mikheev) × Алена Водонаева (Alena Vodonaeva))
Agh, help.
Tumblr community, I see how you helped Heart with her little date lingerie decision.
Well.
That guy from my frat and I are going out tonight and left to my own devices I’d dress like a second grader (actual quote from a friend). So um help me figure out an outfit and please suggest stuff because I just don’t know.
This message brought to you by my inability to be a functioning adult.
Hello, this is the first time I contact you so I would first like to say that I enjoy the way you often serve erotica with an intellectual twist. What prompted me to write this message was your post on women: as a very vocal supporter of equal rights, I agree with you wholeheartedly on the subject. However, I also believe that the struggle for equality would be more fruitful if we avoided splitting it up into smaller fights like gay rights, blacks’ rights, women’s rights etc. Your thoughts?
StandardYes and no. To simply lump the gay community, women, and other minority communities into one group of “others” would not be completely sensitive to the individual needs, struggles and histories of each movement. The fight for women’s rights implies different changes than, say, the fight for gay rights. These struggles need to be recognized as separate problems to meet their separate needs.
That being said, I do believe that to believe in one form of this equality should necessitate a belief in others. While one should believe in equal rights for, say, the African American/black community, they should not then neglect rights for the gay community. A belief in equality necessitates a belief in these causes, but to lump these causes into one giant blanket “equality” movement would too quick diffuse and confuse the individual issues of each party.
Just my two cents.
Lately, I’ve fallen a bit slack on actually being proactive about defending and defining women’s rights.
I’m taking steps now to remedy this situation. And, I don’t care if this isn’t a sex post. If you care about my sex life, then you’re going to have to care about everything that influences it, a lot of which is listed right here in this photograph.
She checks herself for bruises the next morning and, when there aren’t any, she’s sorely disappointed.
Because bruises to her are a reminder. And while just as temporary as the evening prior, they serve as proof until they recede back into the skin. Like the way their mattress has slowly begun to wear into the shapes of their sleeping bodies, the indentations retreating only into hints of their sleeping bodies by noon.
It’s not that she has an issue with memory. It’s more that she likes being decorated as if she were some sort of shrine to their dynamic, however briefly. And so she’s upset when she isn’t bruised. Because even though the marks fade much earlier than the memories, they’re somehow more tangible.
I’m told red wine is good for you. So open up and take your medicine.
I’m not sure if the fact that the above commentary makes me hot is indicative of the tone being incredibly sexy and commanding and hot-mental-scenario-inducing or that I’m just an enthusiastic drinker.
I’ll be going with the first, for many reasons.
Have I told you all that I get unreasonably, um, eager when I have a little red wine? It’s an affliction.