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Someone in my program told me I look like her today. I don’t necessarily agree, but dayum I’ll take it.

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I miss the summer, when he’d take me to the park sometimes and we’d find somewhere grassy and still and quiet. I miss closing my eyes and smelling just how green the grass was, being teased about my dirty feet. I miss how -when at the slightest suggestion that someone was coming I would bolt up and tug my skirt down – he told me that even if I was a little bit of a scaredy-cat, I was still a little floozy.

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This reminds me of someone else who is sweet and little and blushy. 

I’ve been trying to come up with a cuter and flirtier way to put this every time I scroll past it in my drafts.

But yeah.

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I wish I could follow up on the offers I make.

But a few hits in, I’m just a whining mess of, “ow, nope, nope, nope.”

I’m kind of a wuss.

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trilbygrey:

“Don’t ask *who* she is, Daddy, that’s not the question. Just tell me if you want to fuck her.”

Well now, this caption.

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This is kind of what the squirmies look like.

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I don’t think I tease Daddy quite as much as I should.

Maybe I should remedy that.

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I like getting used in the afternoon.

With the pretty sun shining in

and the mood easy and unassuming.

I feel braver.

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Honestly, whiskey tastes like him now.