Many of the times we were together I didn’t come, but quantifying the quality of our sex with an orgasm count would be insane. The sensation of him fucking me didn’t fit into any ideas I have about what is hot or sexy or even good. The compulsion to get his cock inside was as uncompromising and mindless as the urge to eat or drink. It wasn’t about pleasure. It was about need.
Hi, pornwithpoetry. As you know, I wrote this. But you reblogged it and stripped my credit, as well as my link to the larger blog post from whence it came. So when people reblog it and leave your credit in (because they are trying to be conscientious and nice,) it gives the impression that you yourself wrote it. This is not okay. Also, now people are reblogging it talking about how you can’t tell if the author is a man or a woman, which actually is kind-of cool, except…you can. By just looking at who posted it in the first place, which in this case happens to be the person who also wrote it, i.e. Me. And now I’m writing obnoxiously because I’m irate. You see what an unhappy cycle this is? Damn, where’s creditwhereitsdue when I need him the most? He’s like the superhero of tumblr. Save me, Credit, save me! (via nightmarebrunette)
Although nighmarebrunette is right to be annoyed, this is partly a systemic problem. There should be a way to trace any tumbl back to its original author.
