YOU. GUYZ. You can literally see it in her fucking throat. HER FUCKING THROAT.
And what better way to follow up oral sex than with Bill Cosby!
Before I get inside you,
I’ll want a taste of you. It’s like the appetizer, getting you ready for what’s about to come. Besides you, that is. I love it when you let me go down on you. I really can’t tell you why. Maybe it’s the feeling of knowing that you’re getting absolutely nothing, but pleasure out of it. And that it’s me who’s giving it to you.
The way you let me know I’m doing you right, is just so fucking hot. When you squeeze my head in between your legs so damn tightly. Fingers running through my hair, while you’re pushing my face against you as if I could get any closer than I already am. I can hear you panting so loud, it just tells me that I shouldn’t stop.
Then there it is. You let me know that I should. Not with words, but with your body language. The moment your eyes roll back, thighs quiver, and your grip on me loosens. I know I got it out of you. And as I look back up at you with that huge grin on your face, trying to catch your breath, I know I accomplished my goal. That’s what you wanted, right?
Time for the main course
god fucking damnit
“Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I’ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I’ve been pretending I’m OK, just to get along, just for, I don’t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.”
—Synecdoche, New York
“For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.”