Stupid Girls

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

a little erotica, anyone?

You are reading
Share |

this whole British reserve thing

You lived ONE dream. One. Maybe you found It. Maybe there isn't anything more/different/bigger/sweeter. Maybe there is. I've got the different down.

Maybe I'm on to something. Maybe I'm telling you something new, but you just haven't learned how to hear the language yet. Maybe I know something you don't, just like you know something I don't. What if that's true?

chicky, I get moist just from thinking about you in a grocery store, if I smell a leather purse go by.

Loosen up that straight jacket on your swollen, warm, wet brain and feel me. Take your time, but develop the habit, baby steps, of letting yourself feel me.

If you can get angry and frustrated with me from six thousand miles away, you can FEEL ME!

Let me in, m. You can feel me. You don't want to, but you can feel me.

I'm right next to that cold, hard, empty place you keep shut down. I'm already warming the shell.

You can feel me. You like me. I make you happy. I tell you things about yourself you need to hear.

You already feel me, m. I'm a present in your life, over here, loving you, pestering you, pushing you.

You're glad I'm here. You're glad I'm working so hard to get to you. You smile when I'm around.

Hell, once, you even noticed, in your monitor, the headphones had messed your hair up, so you brushed it for me.

We're already changing each other. We're bonding. You feel me even when you'd rather not.

If I can't get you to love me, I can at least drive you mad.

PS: you don't have to touch someone to love her. You just let go and float. I love Rachel from half a thousand miles away. I love kate from over a thousand.

You're only six thousand miles away. It just means I have to love stronger, more often and with greater determination.
I'm studying how to make these & other jewelry

Some stuff I was GONNA send by email, but think is better here, in our space.

You should see what I can do with warm spaghetti. I'll curl your toes. hope you have a good supply of drop cloths, vinyl table cloths and rubber sheets, grrl. u gonna get so messy.
yeah, it's pasta

And I can't wait to hear the lame ass reason you'll give them at work for the blackberry stains around your neck and down your chest.

I'm coming to England. You'll be more than a yogurt bowl when I get there.

Don't cut your hair TOO short, but do mind the split ends. I intend to use every strand of that stuff, between my fingers and braided in rope. You'll get a free face lift til u permanently look 25.

Keep away from those donuts. I'm building my strength, and I like you plump. But I ain't hoisting no Krispy Kreme whales. You need to fit into some good jeans, if I'm gonna dude u up as my cowgirl pin up, y'know?

Every time u want a donut, let a little of me leak in to warm the cold spots.

you be wearin some lace under them coveralls in the snow, chicky? I want them nipples taut and raw from cold air and lace. your breasts need to burn, so they'll want my warm, moist mouth on them, soothing and healing the chapping, as I lick the slight iron taste of a hint of blood, as I put cool butter in my mouth and suck it onto you and massage it into the sting.

Ah! I can't wait to feel your voice in your chest, humming a happy moan when I kiss them back to soft. you're gonna b so glad u a grrl, by the time I get on this.

Imma fuck u up all grrly & weak inna knees. u c.

u whimperin softly, tears glittering your eyes.










under the coveralls.

in the cold.

back in the warm car, lick your palm, rub the pain out.

feel the heat.

think of me.

I want my pony.

that's my grrl