Ghost

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Sex is not a goddamn performance.

Sex should feel as natural as drinking water.

It should not require confidence.

Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe.

Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.

You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh.

It’s not about being “good in bed.”

It’s about being happy.

One should never worry if they’re doing it “correctly.” Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.

What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you.

Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.

Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be.

I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.

I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want.

It’s originality.

It’s passion.

It’s joy.

Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.

I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.

“Good in bed,” what.

You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you.

Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel.

This isn’t a test.

I couldn’t have said it better myself!

(Source: nikolaiolivier)

asdfghjkllove:


This couple got wedding rings with the waveform of their own voices saying, “I do.”

read and relate♥

asdfghjkllove:

This couple got wedding rings with the waveform of their own voices saying, “I do.”

read and relate

(Source: california--rose)

makemestfu:

So relatable blog :)
I laughed so hard…
morbidmusing:

ilostmyphone:

He punched it in the butt!

I laughed so hard…

morbidmusing:

ilostmyphone:

He punched it in the butt!

image

(Source: shit4chanposts)

 

I wouldn’t mind tripping on live television while an estimated 30 something million people were watching if it meant Bradley Cooper and Hugh Jackman would come running to help me.

Pure class, gentlemen. Pure class.

(Source: holy-mother-of-sin)

makemestfu:

So relatable blog :)

Divorce is not an option.

jzbby:

10knotes:

kristie369:

i’d have a heart attack if i was her.

image

i’d shit my pants

OMG I’D KILL HIM 

I’d fucking kill that rat bastard.

That’s just wrong. But so creative and adorable!

(Source: fuckyeahitsperry)

Yup

@BLaCKThERiPP3R OMG It’s that funny part you pointed out!

(Source: johannamasons)

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