Just wanna go back to doing this ASAP because oh man.
hands
I always have to get up on my tip-toes to kiss him. Usually, not hanging from the ceiling. But shit happens.
Sometimes I think of this… Just sometimes
Hi, my name is Ivy and I think about this all the time.
Potential graduation presents/motivation to get this degree done.
Oh my God.
If you can’t make this happen for me in my life, can someone at least direct me to where this is from?
Because I’ve got an app now that lets me watermark photos so I don’t even need to put them on my computer.
And because I promise I’m not letting my crazy ruin an amazing evening.
And because this might be my favorite (dirty) photo of us.
Late birthday present for thinkivykink
Fun note: I told Wolf that I was doing a knifeplay themed drawing “For a tumblr friend” and he immediately knew who it was.
Happy birthday Ivy~
Oh my gosh, this is amazing!!
Sir just introduced me to Mr. Pete, my newest porn crush, who is like if Jason Segel were a mean, tattooed dom.
Hell yeah, now you can’t unsee it, either.
I like big hands. I like how inherently overpowering they feel, even when they’re just on my shoulders or resting on my hip.
Disclaimer: The following is a fantasy and not a genuine threat. Were we to carry this out, it would involve consenting people, proper protection and a ton of precautions.
Months ago, Flint and I were hanging around on my couch. He was choking me a little bit, holding my throat until I started to get genuinely scared and tried to buck him off of me. As panicked I would get each time he cut my breath, I kept asking for more until it was finally, maybe, a little too much.
“Tell me something scary,” I said, accepting that as a substitute. “I want you to scare me.”
Flint smiled and smoothed some of my hair off of my forehead. “The first time I fuck you, it’s going to be rape,” he replied, voice calm and even and maybe a little condescending.
“How?” I chuckled. “You can’t rape me if I want to fuck you.”
He shrugged. “Well, I’ll just come in while you’re asleep. You’ll wake up to the sound of duct tape being torn off the roll. I’ll have a few friends come along to help hold you down, and I’ll let them have you afterwards as a thanks for the favor.” He patted my cheek. “What do you think of that? Maybe I’ll get enough people to come that we’ll double your number that night alone.”
I stared at him, speechless.
“Think of that, love, half of a decade of sexual activity doubled in one night,” he grinned. “And all of it against your will.”
I shook my head, “you couldn’t do that.”
He shrugged, “if you say so.”
Some nights, I catch myself wondering whether or not to lock the deadbolt on my door.