As fun as eating off the floor is,
I’d like some of this sometimes.
You know I like to be pampered.
Brigitte Bardot, apparently photographed by Terry O’Neill for Vogue Paris (February, 1973)
suit
He claims he’s not a Daddy.
But sometimes he gives me that kind of pitterpatter and pulls my heart strings just so.
Oh this gives me feelings
That time Mr. Craftsmate helped Ivy move into her new apartment:
He read the paper, nursed a bottle of whiskey, and occasionally paused to comment on how quiet the new place was, and how great her ass looked in that dress, as she scrubbed the floor.
I like the idea that he could finish up, zip up his pants, straighten out his suit and then just leave her there at the hotel, tied to the bed, while he heads back to work.
I don’t think you’re gonna make it to work today, Daddy.
“I knew it like destiny, and at the same time, I knew it as choice.” – Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping.
It’s always a little awkward when her old friends come over.
Trust.
All right, so you’ve spoken and I was probably wrong.
While some of you seemed to think he was edging towards a foot fetish, full-on foot fetishdom was never realized. It appears that the deciding factor is whether or not feet absolutely need to be present for the person to get off.
Among the suggestionss, GallifreyanSub made the cute comment that it was more “like a ribbon on a present”. Heart went ahead and suggested “foot enthusiast” instead, which is pretty much almost t-shirt worthy. And, 390nm made the silly point that it seemed more like he had an Ivy fetish.
So, ah, there you have it. Foot fetishes. As diagnosed by the perverts of tumblr.
(via florencio)
“Good days, they come around the oddest corners.“ – Colum McCann, Let the Great World Spin.