So I just realized I owe you guys another weekly preview of the collection I’m working on.
Expect it later this evening.
In the meantime, here’s a teensy little hint.
nude
Under cover
© Camilla Storgaard
I thought she had pizza on her face when I first scrolled past this.
Where is my brain.
1. I def saw pizza as well, to the surprise of no one.
2. I rubbed and teased my clit so much yesterday afternoon that it’s legitimately sore today. Whoops.
“tags:#let’s raise some money to send #thinkivykink #to #summer camp #shall we?”
Meanie.
Why is it only our kids that we send, often against their will,
to a camp on a far away island, with a large
group of strangers? Huh?
Don’t be silly, sweetie.
Remember how much
you had last summer?
Craftsmate and I had a quickie today after class.
He came all over my back, kissed me goodbye and went to play squash.
Blushing forever.
Recently, Craftsmate took some super up-close pictures of my pussy after he had shaven it.
I don’t usually go looking down there. So, when he had me look at the pictures, I was confessedly almost surprised. I didn’t realize I looked quite like that.
I’ve mentioned on here that my labia minora are uneven and my adolescent self freaked out over this fact to such a degree that I was already considering labiaplasty in high school. Which I now realize is absurd. I also apologized for said labia the first time a guy got acquainted with my vagina. Which I now realize is also absurd.
But looking at it in his pictures, I couldn’t help but find the unevenness adorable. It kind of seemed like my vagina was sticking out its (her?) tongue.
And so I think, from now on, I’m just going to think of it that way.
😛
Now with just a hint of sea salt.
“It’s just very invasive,” I had murmured into the pillow, burying my face, trying to hide from the wetness I could feel forming in my cunt.
These are the things that are hardest to accept, the ones I feel myself enthusiastically liking despite the sheer humiliation of being forced to lie still and endure it.
You can feel awful small over on this end.
I want to be told to crawl to her, with no assurance of when I’ll be returned.
Caledonian Antisyzgy.