The Goth List

You wanted to show me your favourite place: a crowded second-hand bookstore with narrow aisles. You like to lose yourself in it – in summer it is pleasantly cool and in winter the crooked rooms are heated. My sex story between the books.

I walk for a while, passing shelves of French and English literature, books about India and at some point, when I’m not sure how I would find the cash register and the entrance again, I find you. You’re standing on a ladder and look at yourself the dusty, barely legible spines of the books. When you hear my footsteps on the creaking floor, you turn around briefly before dedicating yourself to the books again.

“Did you find something exciting?”. You shrug. “There’s everything here. A book by de Beauvoir, for example. Someone must have made a joke, look: next to the philosophy shelf there are books on the subject of sex.”

You tilt your head to the side and read the titles under your breath: ” Superposition, One in the Other… ” You take another step up the ladder. “…Ah, or here. There’s also real eroticism here: Anaïs Nin.”

A slight smile appears on your face as you leaf through the book

A slight smile appears on your face as you leaf through the book. “… which lay on top of her and slid up high enough to rub his penis between her breasts, which then slid even further up to her mouth… The book is even illustrated with little drawings, take a look.”

You hold the open book out to me, your gaze has changed, there is now something curious, challenging in it. The open page shows a reclining woman drawn with simple pencil lines. Her legs are slightly spread and her lips are slightly indicated behind her pubic hair.

You keep browsing. ” His finger touched the bud very gently, then it slipped between the pulsating lips…” You read this section particularly slowly, delaying every word. With every breath I get a little closer to you.

Your wish is my command

As I stand in front of you, your eyes get smaller and smaller, you read the last sentence – a command to me: ” He felt the moisture…” and you lift your skirt a little, my head disappears and you feel the warmth between your legs. I start kissing your skin with soft, shy kisses.

I hear a groan of relief, a stifled laughter above me. My lips search for the fabric of your panties and press against them, my tongue runs over them once and wants to find a way, but your hangs stop me and push my head away. “Are you getting enough air down there too?”. You smile sheepishly. I nod and smile back. You cover your mouth with your left hand to stifle a groan, with your right you push my head back between your legs. First gently, then more resolutely, more firmly.

I pull your panties aside with my index finger and thumb, with the other hand I gently feel your moisture. You press my head even more against you and I lick you. Slowly at first, exploring, then more determinedly, responding to your muffled moans.

I can’t see anything, but I smell you, taste you, my mouth is

I breathe in and I breathe out. It’s raining outside and I close my eyes. Feel everything again. Perceive what is happening here with all your senses. is this a dream Or is it reality?

We have never gone as far as today.

I smell the scent of summer rain blowing in through the open window. How he lays on my skin and on yours. You and me, that was actually years ago. A classic romance that lasted four years more or less. We have never gone as far as today.

We’re not a couple – never have been. But there is a deep connection between us. There’s a reason we keep finding each other. Some would call it fate, others attraction, others chemistry. it’s not love It’s basically a lot less and at the same time a lot more than that. You know me – really. And I know you

The air is hot and oppressive when you open your apartment door for me. A storm is in the air, ready to roll over us all now that I’m lying in front of you.

The silence between the individual raindrops rustles so loudly, as if someone had turned on the speakers. Booming yet soothing. Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” is playing in my head.

The silence between the individual raindrops rustles so loudly, as if someone had turned on the speakers. Booming yet soothing. Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” is playing in my head. Each thunder like an earthquake that swallows everything else. In the world there is only the two of us.

Your hands make their way over my upper body, open my blouse and stroke my breasts while you gently kiss me first on the mouth and then on my collarbone. your eyes look at me Calmly, well thought out, but there is greed in them too. I know this greed, it was there before. Giving in to her is new.

“Are you sure?” you ask me. I nod, breathe almost inaudibly: “Yes”. Your hands and lips keep wandering after you get your answer. The tenderness of your kisses remains, but suddenly they seem electrically charged to me. Every kiss like a little electric shock. In my heart and between my legs.

While you undress me, you also get rid of your own clothes. Slowly, like in slow motion. And suddenly we’re where we’ve never been before. It’s dark in your bedroom, in your apartment, high above the street. Sweat and each other’s breath moistens both of our skin.

You kneel in front of me, lying naked and defenseless in front of you. I give you my everything, I want it that way.

You kneel in front of me, lying there naked and exposed in front of you. I give you my everything, I want it that way. While the world outside seems to go down in thunder and flashing lights. Only we are here, that’s how it feels.

And suddenly I feel you everywhere. Your breath hot on my skin, your lips burn on mine, your hands intertwine with my fingers trembling from your little electric shocks. I feel your chest against mine, your middle against mine. you in me

Slowly, hesitantly, again and again, deeper and deeper, more and more. I’m breathing hard, pull you close to me. I’m … read more

dear women,

what do Kanye West, Michael Douglas, Charlie Sheen, Tiger Woods, Lindsay Lohan, Megan Fox, James Blunt, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Bushido have in common?

Are you (or were) a sex addict? – No.

You claimed it. – Yes.

Not everyone who says they’re a sex addict actually is.

Which doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

The excuse

Apparently celebs are only human. Which is why celebrities who are in a relationship sometimes have sex outside of that relationship. They cheat. They are having an affair. Whatever you call it, they do. And because they’re obviously only human, they try to talk their way out of it. In contrast to some other people, however, it is not always so easy for a celebrity person to talk their way out, because they might be recorded in picture and sound as they stuck their tongue down someone’s throat, put their hand on their ass or the Have genitals slide into each other. Silly. What are you doing there?

You still don’t admit that you just screwed up a lot of shit. Then you were sick. Yes, you know how it is with the stars of this world, they take drugs and drink their heads off, all addicts before the Lord, and if we know one thing, it’s that an addicted celebrity always has a good reason for this addiction, namely that he had a hard time as a kid, that he had a hard time as a star, that he couldn’t handle fame, he couldn’t handle depression, that everyone else did too. And then he goes into rehab where he lies by the pool next to the other addicted fallen stars and everything is fine. And he doesn’t have to take responsibility. Well, that can be transferred very well to sex. And he doesn’t have to take responsibility. Because that’s what it’s about.

So the sex addiction is a perfectly welcome excuse for fucking around.

And sex addiction is also an addiction that is associated with a lot of prestige: it shows how potent I am, how masculine I am when I am a man, how free and unbound and emancipated when I am a woman. Sex addiction, yes, yes, that’s something you can definitely brag about. They do it again and again, the stars. And the alleged. I’m thinking of Nico Schwartz.

The Addiction

But sex addiction is actually an addiction. And with it an illness. And maybe one or the other of the people listed really did suffer from sex addiction. But the word “suffered” is crucial.

We speak of an addiction when it can no longer be controlled. This is reflected, for example, in the fact that other areas of life are neglected. When work isn’t done properly anymore, when family gets cut short, so when it’s all about what you’re addicted to.

In many cases, this has financial consequences, since most addictions are expensive. But that doesn’t matter to a certain extent. Because you need that. Because if you don’t have that, then you feel bad, shit, sick. With many of the so-called substance-related addictions, i.e. the classic drugs, there is a massive physical withdrawal with fever and chills and whatnot. In the case of behavioural addictions, when one is addicted to a certain behaviour, the … read more

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Factors that describe why lots of male get sexual enjoyment while dating Party girls

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