(Source: simply-black-and-white, via sensualove)
(Source: simply-black-and-white, via sensualove)
Coarse rope that swells and tightens as it soaks up the water chilling my skin.
Heat, pressure and the knowledge of impending agony from the clothes peg on my clit.
A sharply sucked in breath and a rush of goosebumps as daddy reaches for the crop.
Playtime.
Your baby girl.
(Source: michellesplayground, via sensualove)
(Source: guarddog)
(Source: duimaginarium, via sensualove)
When you’re young, you always feel that life hasn’t yet begun—that “life” is always scheduled to begin next week, next month, next year, after the holidays—whenever. But then suddenly you’re old and the scheduled life didn’t arrive. You find yourself asking, “Well then, exactly what was it I was having—that interlude—the scrambly madness—all that time I had before?” –Douglas Coupland, Life After God
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