when I was like 9 my neighbors asked me to watch their fish and cat while they went on vacation and I was like “lol k” and while they were gone tHE FUCKING FISH DIED so when they got home I apologized to the mom and she was just like “no need to apologize, I turned the filter off so they would die because they are too much work. You did nothing wrong” and she gave me 20 bucks and that is the story of my first contracted murder
When sex becomes a production or performance that is when it loses its value. Be mutual. Be loud. Be clumsy. Make noises, be quiet, and make a mess. Bite, scratch, push, pull, hold, thrust. Remove pressure from the moment. Love the moment. Embrace it. Enjoy your body; enjoy your partners’ body. Produce sweat, be natural, entice your senses, give into pleasure. Bump heads, miss when you kiss, laugh when it happens. Speak words, speak with your body, speak to their soul. Touch their skin, kiss their goose bumps, and play with their hair. Scream, beg, whimper, sigh, let your toes curl, lose yourself. Chase your breath; keep the lights on, watch their eyes when they explode. Forget worrying about extra skin, sizes of parts and things that are meaningless. Save the expectations, take each second as it comes. Smear your make up, mess up your hair, rid your masculinity, and lose your ego. Detonate together, collapse together, and melt into each other.
My only regret is that
I didn’t tell enough people
to fuck off.