Cherry.Vintage

look at my baby art just on his cute little phone and eating a boiled egg awh he’s so cute

art donaldson getting so lost in how being inside you feels that he begins to lick at your shoulder and slobber all over it like he’s a hungry puppy. whimpering into your neck and grabbing you wherever he can reach, his thrusts turning jagged and stuttered as he climbs to the edge. he tries to warn you—to tell you that he’s about to finish again, that he’s unable to muster enough discipline to slide out this time—but his words come out incoherent. a mess of slurred syllables broken up by wet hiccups and painfully distorted mewls. his blues start to roll back like waves of ocean salt as he is plunged into an orgasm he can’t stop; one hand in the sheets, one under your back, tongue lolled out and thighs shaking hard enough to vibrate the mattress.

genuinely what was my life like before i lay eyes on Peter Claffey

can just something new ever happen to me ? I wake up, feel the same thing, eat the same thing, watch the same show, watch that same person, wear the same thing, listen to the same thing, and sleep the same way I did yesterday and the other day… and last week.