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you can’t. not yet. so don’t…

“What does it take to inspire you?”
He asked.
“I need to fall in love,” she replied.
“Surely there must be an easier way,”
he retorted.

http://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/ushttp://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Why, I have already fallen in love twice today,” she answered,

http://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/ushttp://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“First, when I set my eyes upon the
ever precipitous mountains that surround us,
guarding us like the skin that stretches along our bones,
and second,
with the uncertainty in your voice when you asked
if there is anything easier than falling in love.”

— n. o. —

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oh, my juice…

I masturbate.
I think of you.
I cum.

oh my juice… because there is this: your lips, your tongue, your fingers, your anything you want… tracing over these dips and waves of me. You trace me, leaving a trail. And I watch you. I fucking want you. My hands hold you – slip along your nape – and my fingers slide through your hair as you pass over me again. And again. My fingers grip your dewy tip, I cup the throat of your cock, choking it, gripping your heat; your shaft warms me. I know because I feel your heat mix with mine – slick, between my thighs and folds of my sweet cunt – it slides between my ass cheeks. I am like this for you. We will fuck soon. I want you to fill me as much as you want, as deep as you can, as hard and hungry as we must. I tug and spin my clever fingers around the head of your throbbing need and down, down, to your rock-hard base. Your balls fit perfectly in my hands. You are so beautiful.
I kiss you and bite your lip – my tongue, a foreshadow of what is to cum.
You moan and grow even more in my hands.
Oh, my juice… I am so wet. So fucking wet.