The author wrote a suspenseful new script,
about a woman who died from the type of pain that only a lover can inflict,
About how she rose each night from her crypt,
not to bring fear, but to whisper words to help better equip,
the less fortunate ones, who like herself,
this world had sadly tricked….
These first days of October have definitely been grim,
no one can quite understand anything that’s happened.
I’m sure, like most, I don’t know all the right words to say,
but I know we need to show each other more kindness,
Let’s be honest…. how many sexual partners constitutes being called a “slut” or a man a “player?”
In doing a little research and “asking around” I discovered that times seem to have totally changed the “norm” on this topic.
When I surveyed people from an “older generation” ages 35-60 they said that more than 2 would be considered a more “sleezy” type of woman. But that men could sleep with more than 5 women before they were really considered a “player.” When asked why the women had a lower number most responded with, “that’s just the way it is. Women shouldn’t be sleeping around if they don’t want to get a bad name.” For men it seems to be considered, “just something men do.” It seemed that this generation felt men for some reason, had the right to sleep around a bit more to discover what they were really looking for, or what may make them happy in life.
Continue reading Sexual Promiscuity Myths
His are my favorite to ever look into, eyes so fierce they saw right through. He knew how to draw me in, he loved me all night. But once morning came, I was devoured by his bite. I long for the softness of the sheep I know is there, it’s just hidden far beneath the wolves course hair. I could plainly see, I wasn’t totally hopeless, I loved him even though I knew he was ferocious. Knowing at that time, I was just his prey, how could he help it, he was raised that way. Now I am just one of the pack, but I know each blue moon, to me he’ll come back.
Ever wonder what the word, “Love,” might taste like on your tongue?
I’m not just speaking of sex, I mean after all that is done.
When you’re laying side by side or walking along the beach,
when just sitting across the
table, seems like he’s too far out of reach.
When all throughout your life, he’s been in every song that you have sung,
when you’ve had this love for him, since you were very young.
When he was your first, and he’s still the one.
So when I say, “I love you,” this is what it tastes like in my mouth,
Now for a little fun, my tongue’s going to head down south.
The passion when her lips meet yours
is what you’ve missed, what you adore.
And as you undress her your fingers start to roam,
her body shivers as you explore.
The look in her eyes as she looks at you with longing,
and with every kiss between her thighs,
you feel her body increasingly responding.
Her moans are like music to you,
you feel her waterfall on your tongue,
and with one hand caressing her breast,
you hear your favorite sound,
your name whispered as you make her cum.
“As a photographer, I choose my subjects from intuition, using my camera to create both real and surreal images. My passion is capturing images that may have been otherwise overlooked. Photography helps engage myself in my own surroundings while providing my viewers with details that draw them in and allow them to experience a world they may never have had a chance to see.”
Continue reading Photographer David Calixto
We walked along the sand, intrigued by skies so blue.
I told you of all the years that I have thought of you.
How I tried to erase the memories that my mind always replayed,
how I tried for years to forget you,
how I tried to stay away.
But I realized for certain no one else will ever do,
you see you are my ocean,
and it has always been you.