That was the correct thing to say.

what if you were a clam(girl) and I picked you up and gently prised open your shell, and you felt the cool sea air on your mantle, and you didn't know your shell could flex that far, and maybe if you weren't in my hands it couldn't, and you were so deliciously, squirmingly afraid; and what if I saw your mantle shift, uncomfortably, anxiously, under the weight of a too-large pearl; and what if I brought you close to me, so that the cool air on your delicate flesh became hot and wet with my fluttering breath; and what if I closed my lips around your too-large pearl, and suckled ever so gently, and you felt the quivering relief of a heavy foreign thing passing your body, and the caress of lips that could suck you down a dark hot gullet but that wanted nothing for you but ecstacy. and what if I closed you and set you down in the water and turned away, your pearl still under my tongue, and I walked away, and I gave you back to the sea, and I never saw you again, but I remembered you for the rest of my life. what then, huh

it implies a "postcum"

the postcum movement encompasses a variety of artistic, cultural and philosophical movements. it emerged in the mid 20th century as a skeptical response to cum,

i bet the pain will end if i arrange a perfect enough sentence about it

thank you for coming to my this #mythis

the masculine feminine and frankly universal urge to become a massive fucking dragon

Nobody calls each other “terminally online” anymore. I think that’s because everyone is terminally online now. Jobless too. And ugly as fuck. Stains all over our shirts. Stupid as well