my intuition has never once been wrong. my hope lies to me constantly

Life is too unpredictable to judge others

Camilla Araujo gets asked what the WORST type of man to date is, and her answer said everything 😭💀

Part Two He pushed into my ass slow until I opened, then fucked me deeper. One hand pinning my wrists above my head. The other still working my clit. I moaned into the pillow and pushed back anyway. He didn’t ease up. Hard strokes. The bed hitting the wall. I came again with his cock buried in my ass and my legs shaking under him. He stayed deep. Didn’t pull out. Filled me in thick pulses I felt one by one. Held my hips so I couldn’t move until he was done. Then he pulled out slow and left me face-down, ass up, leaking onto the sheet. He got up. Shower running. No kiss. I stayed there, still dripping, still open, listening to the water and not moving until he told me to.

a whole lot of trials & tribulations got you this far so don’t start doubting yourself now.

nobody cares how they made you feel until you give them the same energy they gave you

some bitches really know how to make a nigga feel appreciated without doing too much.

a bitch with emotional maturity makes love feel less complicated.

becoming better sometimes means becoming less available for the shit that kept hurting u.

You don’t owe fake closeness to anybody who disrespects you behind closed doors.

doing whatever it takes to get the win, I don’t like losing

My ex showed up with the spare key I never changed and said he only needed a box from the closet. I let him in wearing a towel. Nothing under it. He looked. I didn’t fix it. The box was on the top shelf. I reached. The towel slipped. He didn’t pick it up. I turned around, dropped to my knees on the bedroom carpet, and took his cock down my throat while he was still standing in his work boots. Sloppy. Gagging. Eyes up. His hand in my wet hair like he still had the right. I pulled off, spit on the head, and said, “You’re not leaving with just the box. Fuck me. Then my ass. Then you can go.”

If you have to convince someone to choose you, they already made their decision.

The rarest form of intelligence is knowing what is actually worth your time and energy.

You will become someone you don’t recognize if you keep abandoning your own standards.

There’s something beautiful about doing something knowing you’ll never get that exact moment back.

My boyfriend and I were having breakfast at our hotel. I was wearing a simple fitted dress, and he kept looking at me instead of his food. I finally asked, “Why are you staring?” He smiled and said, “I’m just admiring my girlfriend.” I laughed and went back to eating. A few minutes later, the waiter came to clear our plates and casually said, “Sir, you haven’t touched your breakfast in ten minutes.” I looked at my boyfriend and burst out laughing. He shook his head. “Can you blame me?”

I’m small next to him. We’d been kissing for weeks and stopping like we were scared of it. Last night I texted him that I was done with slow. I needed to get fucked. He opened the door, lifted me off the mat, and kissed me against the wall with my legs around his waist. I could feel him hard through his jeans. He carried me down the hall and dropped me on the bed. “Take it out,” I said. He did. Thicker than I expected. I got on my knees and sucked him messy, gagging on purpose, spit on my chin so he could see. He held my jaw and pushed deeper. “Don’t be sweet. I didn’t come here to kiss.” He pulled me off, put two fingers in my mouth, and pushed into my pussy in one slow stroke. Soaked. Still a stretch. I moaned around his fingers while he stayed buried so I could feel all of it.

I got fucked before I even got my shoes off. He met me at the door hard. No hello. Just hands under my dress, panties yanked aside, and his cock shoved into my pussy while I was still against the wall. Deep. Mean. I came once with my legs around him and my heels still on, dripping down his balls onto the floor. He carried me to the couch without pulling out. Dropped me on my back. Fucked me harder until the cushions slid. I told him I wanted his cock in my ass. He didn’t stop. Just kept pounding my pussy and said I’d take it when he was ready.

Part Two He flipped me over. Face in the cushion. Ass up. Spit on my hole and pushed in slow while two fingers stayed in my pussy. I moaned into the fabric and pushed back. He fucked my ass deep, one hand on my hip, the other rubbing my clit until I came again, shaking, clenching around him. He didn’t pull out. Stayed buried and came in my ass — thick pulses I felt one by one. He held me there while it leaked. Then he pulled my hair, turned my face, and made me lick the mess off his cock. “Again later,” he said. “You’re not done.” I stayed bent over, dripping, and nodded.

Some goodbyes feel like relief. He packed the last box while I was still in his shirt. No fight left. Just the door and the quiet. I didn’t ask him to stay. He didn’t ask if I was sure. When it clicked shut I stood there a second, then texted the one I’d been not-texting. He was over in twenty. Didn’t kiss me hello. Just turned me around, bent me over the arm of the couch that still had the other man’s dent in it, and shoved into my pussy raw. Hard. I came fast, face in the cushion, dripping down my thighs, and it felt like the first clean breath all week. He pulled out, spit on my ass, and pushed in slow while I reached back and spread myself. “Don’t be gentle,” I said. “I don’t want to think about him.” He wasn’t. Deep strokes. Hand on my hip. Fingers on my clit until I came again, shaking, pushing back onto him. He stayed buried and filled my ass. I felt every pulse. Stayed bent over after, leaking, while he caught his breath and the apartment finally felt like mine. Some goodbyes feel like relief. This one felt like getting fucked until the last of him was gone.