Hey, Dacry?
See that hand coming out from the left?
Gets you thinking, right?
I think we need to find ourselves a new friend.
<3, Ivy
Ellen Von Unwerth
lingerie
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.
“My darling girl, when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage.” – Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic.
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
She’s the kind of girl that is a little hard to just take out. Especially when she’s like this. It’s not because you’re ashamed to be seen with her. If that’s the case, you don’t deserve to be with her at all. It’s the fact that once she’s around people and the temptation is there, she’ll be a total brat because she can.
Surely you wouldn’t punish her. Not here. Not in front of everyone.
Maybe it isn’t so good for her in the long run. But for those few delicious hours out, when she can give you a look as she crosses her legs just so, the night is hers.
Jack and Jitters, Part 1
On the last evening SG and I were planning to spend off-the-radar, we attempted to go out somewhere. However, everywhere we went was either closed or just plain lame. And so we decided we’d “spend the night in”. It sounded vaguely domestic.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” I began as I picked up the bottle of Jack I had in my room. “I’ll put a nightgown on and we’ll have an evening like the Drapers.” I poured out a glass and took a sip.
The Southern Gentleman snorted, “and of course that starts with drinking.”
“Just like everything else in Mad Men,” I held out the glass to him and started to remove my clothing.
I was down to my sweater and bra when he set the glass down and came over, placing his hands on my hips. He kissed down my neck, pulled the sweater off for me, unhooked the bra. I reached for the buckle of his belt and he stepped back, smirking. “Go put your nightgown on.”
“Oh, come on,” I groaned.
I am so into this, but I would be super concerned about having my shoulder pulled out or something from some faulty rope-placement. I’d like to fancy myself the (very) amateur engineering type, so I’d probably micro-manage the shit out of anyone attempting to do this to me.
So, the day before I left campus, that guy from my frat (fuck it, I’m calling him that from now on) tried to bootycall me.
Earlier that evening, we were with some friends and he tried to pull some moves on me. I may have been a little receptive, but I don’t think I completely put the light on and said I was down.
And it wasn’t even the fact that he did it so much as how he did it. He said he wanted to “say goodbye to me and wish me happy holidays”. At 1 o’clock in the morning. Okay.
He then tried again the next day during the afternoon before I headed home. I guess he wanted some afternoon delight. Credit for creativity, maybe? But, for God’s sake, minus points for desperation.
I don’t know what specifically bothers me about it, but something about it just felt so unclean.
These next few days are going to require discipline. Unfortunately, not the sort I’m inclined to enjoy.
Priorities?
StandardI had some downtime.
Could have organized my desk.
Found an old piece of lingerie and took some dirty pictures for someone instead.
Whatever.