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Follow Vogue-Lotus, for your daily dose of fashion and women
Instagram : illest.jpg
Shop at Black Five
I’m physically, mentally and emotional wiped out and I need to be cuddled and have my hair played with and complimented every 20 seconds but I also need to be left the fuck alone for 6 to 8 days, minimum
do you see my problem?
I hate how much I crave physical human contact. I just want to snuggled and have my hair played with and be told that I don’t always have to feel so alone.
when you undress her, do so slowly. top to bottom. tuck her hair that usually perfectly frames her face behind her ears because that night there is no need for her to hide, while telling her how much you want her. do not wait till she is unclothed to call her beautiful, tell her as you move your hands to her waist as if sculpting the very definition of perfection. never break eye contact as you use one hand to trace the terrains of her collar bones. Kiss her lightly on the edges of her face, avoid her waiting lips, don’t forget to kiss behind the ears. use your nimble fingers to unbutton her blouse and run your tongue hesitantly down the curvature of her breasts. do not utter another word besides to breathe her name as you work your way down to her jeans. be gentle as you undo her pants, for bruises bloom on her hip bones from wearing her belt too tightly in hopes of making her waist appear slimmer. suck on them as if you could swallow the self hatred away. Tug her pants off with even pace. softly place your hand between the inside of her thighs and let it rest there as you finally meet her parted lips with your own. let your tongue be the messenger of your soul. she will understand its language and your profession of love. remove her intimates with quick fingers as she begins to undress you. and as you break apart to gasp for air, promise her broken soul your own, before closing the deal by making love.
“I hate him,” she swears. And her hands clench into fists, so tight that the nails create little crescent shapes in her palms.
“I hate him,” she promises. And her hands shake so violently she has to steady herself.
“I hate him,” she repeats. Once, twice, three times. “I hate him.”
But even a stranger could see by the fire in her eyes that she does not hate him. A passerby could take her hands and the little crescent shaped marks and see his name scrawled into her skin. She does not hate him. But she wants to, oh she wants to.
When are we going to stop pretending girls don’t have hair on their boobs, between their boobs, around their nips, on their ass, on their upper lip, between their brows, on their cheeks, etc?
On their belly, on their toes, on their back, literally everywhere men grow hair
humans grow hair everywhere except on the palms of their hands and soles of their feet. this hair can rank from light blond and soft to dark and wiry, regardless of sex or gender of the person. shaving all of it is a mess and plucking it hurts like hell. humans are just animals with less thick fur. you wouldn’t shame a female animal for having as much fur as a male one, so stop doing that with humans.
I LOOOOOOVE physical affection. like cuddling, holding hands, having my hair played with, hold my leg while you drive.. all of it, love it
I’ll be a lady in the streets in a dress with her hair tied up, or I can be a freak in the sheets in the room with her hands tied up
