bra – Page 2

It’s been almost a year now since the last time I tried waxplay.

The last time, I had to perform it on myself while the thief watched. There’s something a lot more daunting about doing it that way. You would think that being in relative control of the candle would make the experience a little less intimidating, but you tend to actually have a lot less control over the candle when your hand is shaking than you’d like.

We started with it over my breasts, on my nipples. I shivered when started to drip onto my thighs. I protested when he suggested I put it on my clit. I had never done that before or had anyone put the wax there. When I finally agreed, I swear I saw white the moment the wax made contact with my clit. I cried out, my body shook, and I wound up spilling more wax on my thigh and over my slit.

“I’m proud,” the thief said, “and, damn, that looks awesome.” He gestured to the wax that covered my body. I blushed and chuckled.

I think I am way overdue for another experience like that.

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.

There’s a certain way you do your makeup when you’re aware that you are simply applying it to have it disarrayed. There’s a deliberateness to the lipstick that will later crest the curve of your cheek, the mascara that will later run lines down your face. You realize that things must first be built in order for them to be destroyed.

Hello Random and Crazy Influx of New Followers,

Where did you come from? In the past few days I’ve gotten a huge amount of people on board here.

As a thank you, here’s a picture of a girl in a really cute bra and panty set blowing bubbles.

Please feel free to hit up my ask and introduce yourselves.

<3, Ivy

Her hair looks like my hair.

I’m like one of those little kids who sees pictures or drawings and says “I’m that one” and points at some character in the picture with the same hair color as her.

But, whatever. I’m not ashamed.

I admit, after seeing a promotional picture like this, I assumed this movie was about something else entirely (ahem). However, upon watching the film the other day, I discovered this was not the case. Still a really wonderful effort, very poignant, perhaps a bit slow (but not without reason), gorgeous cinematographically, thematically deep. But, yep, not exactly what I thought I’d be signing myself up for.

I’m thinking of opening a chapter of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. And we’d have to all show up like this. Uh huh.

Sometimes, I just wish I could spend all morning in bed.

Warm sunlight.

Soft sheets.

Hands all over.

The feeling of having an article of clothing ripped off is just sublime. It’s so carnal, so raw.

ginkitten:

This. Now. Please and thank you.

So, my boobs shrank. I know, this is such sexy conversation.

I noticed this when all of my bras just started to feel oversized while on my trip and there were little pockets of space in the cup that would be otherwise good for storing keys, money, change, makeup, a change of shoes, a small animal, etc. At first, I assumed I’d stretched them out somehow in the wash. So, I proceeded to get myself measured and it was confirmed: I’d dropped from a 36C to a 36B. Super.

Looking at them in the mirror at the store, I could see it. They still looked nearly the same, but they weren’t as full. I guess I’d never noticed while away because, while there, my mirror was only large enough to look at my face.

But, seriously, body, what are you trying to pull here? Of all the things you could’ve made smaller. Nice job.