. . . Strange Mentality . . .

Im Jade..I'm 20 and I just stopped giving a fuck...



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Reblogged from sexographies

Reblogged from nikolaiolivier

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.

(via it-slowly-rises)

(Source: nikolaiolivier, via springhair)

Reblogged from relateforteens
Reblogged from h0ly-trinity-team

(Source: h0ly-trinity-team, via digikat)

Reblogged from vodkacupcakes

vodkacupcakes:

Do you ever lay in bed and crave someones arms around you but like its not gonna happen so you want to explode

(via highuponsex)

Reblogged from solosalendo

solosalendo:

kinda hurt kinda offended kinda not planning on saying anything about it

(via rated-fake)

Reblogged from c-isnenegro
Reblogged from asking-the-death

(via astreiana)

Reblogged from sophiemind

(via astreiana)

Reblogged from these-times-shall-pass
Reblogged from quotelounge
Reblogged from mathsdebater
You’re not in love with me, not really, you just love the way I always made you feel. Like you were the centre of my world. Because you were. I would have done anything for you. Abby McDonald (via blackbruise)

(Source: mathsdebater, via blackbruise)

Reblogged from incoloure
I’m not used to being wanted 6 Word Poem  (via emoties)

(via astreiana)

Reblogged from let-theocean-take-me
Reblogged from youneverseemypain