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Weird side thoughts while looking at porn like this:

I wish I could travel more.

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I love how the clothespin says “hehehe.”

Because as serious as this might seem under a blindfold,

to everybody else it’s just a silly little game.

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It’s Tuesday, which means I have to write on myself for Sir. 

(That’s what you’re seeing on my breasts.)

And it was a great, productive, encouraging day, which means I get to have some alone time with some of my favorite corners of the Internet.

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I don’t even hesitate when he puts his fingers in my mouth anymore. It’s just a force of habit now.

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I’ve always been a bit shaky on boundaries.

So come a little closer.

It’s not crossing the line when I’ve redrawn the line.

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I had expressed to Penthouse before my trip that I was into being imposingly touched right before I went to sleep. It was more of a situation where I would be sent to bed and the other party would climb in behind me, wrap an arm around me and touch as if I wasn’t trying to sleep. It started here, when Switch had me tied up during the whole abduction thing and started groping me.

Penthouse and I went over safe words, a necessity if you’re playing around with concepts of feigned reluctance or consensual nonconsent, and tried the same thing.

Except, I wasn’t tied up. So, I could playfully try to swat him away and tease him by rubbing back up against him immediately after. And then whine and pout when he persisted anyway and rubbed my pussy through my panties, squeezed my breasts through my shirt, slipped his fingers into my mouth.

“I’m trying to sleep,” I huffed as he pulled my panties aside, “you’re being too handsy.”

He hushed me and murmured in my ear, “then sleep, I’ll just take what I want.” He dragged his thumb over my wet slit. 

Naturally, I didn’t go to sleep.

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Sometimes, you just need to let go and lose yourself completely for a little bit.

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This camera angle’s just about right. It’s basically all he sees.

But very, very rarely gets to touch.

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“Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me,
and Bethlehem inflamed us both
like the shy one at some orgy.
And when we fell together all our flesh was like a veil
that I had to draw aside to see
the serpent eat its tail." 

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I can be worshipful. I can put you up on an altar. I can make it about you, just you, just what you are to me and what you do to me and what you want from me.

Because you worship me, too. Not in a servile way. But when you make me yours, it’s worship. The way you touch me is worship. The second you hold my cheek after you’ve smacked it, the way your fingers find their way into my mouth from there, it’s praise for what I’ve allowed you to do. It’s due to the awe within you that I’ve inspired from enjoying it.

Let’s offer ourselves to each other. Let’s reduce ourselves to supplication. I want you to make me feel holy.