i like tumblr bc everyone ik irl thinks this shit completely died off so i can hide here and enjoy content in peace
Chiaki Kuriyama in Shinwa-Shoujo (“Girl of Myth”), photographed by Kishin Shinoyama
it was soaking fucking wet.
my clothes, my hair, my shoes, my bag, all drenched. we ran from the deli around the corner and, in those 25 seconds alone, soaked up so much rainwater we had to ring ourselves out at the door.
it was the first time i had seen his hair not stretched out in all directions from his scalp. for a nanosecond, i imagined him as one of those men who wax, gel, slick, comb, brush their shit down, repress their neuroses, appear to be just some normal ol dude. i realized how grateful i am that he shows his stress all over. on his face, with his hair, in his shoulder muscles.
i sat on his butt and massaged his flanks, shoulders, neck, and whatever else was knotted meat on his back. it was tandem stress relief. he got his muscles worked out, i busy my hands by kneading him like a little kitty. we both get physical touch. we both get closer.
when we were tired enough, we spooned. he glided his hands over my ass and hips, back and forth, then moved to my stomach. his fingers slid under the MF Doom tee he lent me, grazed my waist beads, then found their way to my chest.
my nipples are a weak spot. i know that. i like to think of it as ergonomic design. people like to play with my titties, i like my titties played with. it’s perfect. i will never turn down a good rub.
but we’re homies. i mean, homies that give each other massages and have snuggly sleepovers when we get drunk. but homies, still. i reasoned that it can still technically fall under the umbrella of a massage. that and i was soaking fucking wet.
if i’m being honest…. i don’t want anything/anyone temporary. i want everything in my life to mean something… i am a verrrry intense person and i only desire to have meaningful engagements & experiences in my life, otherwise it holds no value.
callmenaex3