I do love when you send me your orgasms, hearing your hand slapping your cunt, hearing your mounting breathing, your satisfied exclamations….
Go see “Baby Driver.” You won’t regret it. Unless you can’t tolerate the movie’s abysmal sexual politics and “depictions” of women.
I love being touched. Unless you touch me wrong. In which case, I hate it.
In which the highlight of my evening is scoring an umbrella.
I like discerning what I think I can from people’s faces.
Many thoughts. Few words. Plus, I forgot my computer charger.