wow I really want you on top of me
Listening to a girl moan and orgasm, has to be one of the hottest things I could ever hear.
you are amazing dahhhhling@aznmle
Aww haha thanks!! But why am I amazing?
The guy did go over the top saying that's why you were abused. But you are pretty hypocritical. It's not just girls that can be insecure about their bodies, and although you are usually pretty good about how you say and have explained your love for larger penises, but you do treat that kinda thing compared to how girls feel about their body completely differently.@Anonymous
Listen, I understand that guys can be insecure too, but it’s just not the same as it is for us. I don’t think you quite understand the debilitating depths that female physical insecurity can reach. I’ve never, ever met a guy who was anywhere near as preoccupied and as compulsively obsessed with tending to his areas of insecurity as I am. I don’t think you understand what it feels like to have the entirety of your self-worth tied to one and only one thing — your body.
When you look in a mirror, what do you see? My guess is that it’s a casual daily experience: you check yourself out, myself flex your biceps once or twice, and then throw on a t-shirt and go on with your day. I wish it were that simple for me. Every time I look in a godforsaken mirror all I see are imperfections. Why do my thighs look so bloated today? Were they like that yesterday? Oh my god, is that a new pimple?! I so need to get my fucking eyebrows done again. Should I really check the scale today? What if I’ve gained weight? Fuck these jeans feel tighter, I’ve definitely gained weight. Why the fuck did I eat pasta last night?! God I hate myself, I wish I were stronger.
Do you know what that’s like, every single day? I mean, do you really obsesses over your insecurities, day-in and day-out? Do you compare yourself to every other guy you meet, judging whether you look better or worse than he does? (Or I suppose in your case, whether your cock is bigger or smaller than his?) Do you stare for hours in a mirror, sometimes to tears, because you feel inadequate or unworthy or just not beautiful? Does your sense of self-worth sway from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows, based purely on whether you happen to be feeling hot or ugly? And on rainy afternoons, do you sometimes just sit alone in your room and close your eyes and silently imagine a world where you were free? Free…of self-evaluation, self-criticism and self-hatred, of insecurity itself?
I know insecurity. I’ve known it for as long as I can remember. And as far as I can tell, most guys are lucky just to be guys. You don’t have to deal with the sort of crippling hell that festers in my mind like a bloodsucking leech that you just can’t pull off, draining you, parasitically, torturously, of any tiny speck of self-love you’ve ever had — every damn day.