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Blogs > Venusphoenix > My Blog

"Freaks"  

Venusphoenix 31F
8 posts
1/24/2022 1:45 pm
"Freaks"

...Jumping into his arms became her new favorite thing to do. She didn't care if people gave her looks when her skirt would be too short. He told her that he liked her butt. She told him that she liked how strong his arms were. They decided that's what mattered.

...As long as they were together no one dared to say anything. When she was with him she could feel safe. She could wear whatever. She could be a<b> nudist. </font></b>Whatever made him hard she thought. Whatever made her so crazy he wondered. She knew it was him.

...Carrying her was something she made him do way too much. She had to admit she felt bad about it. She liked feeling his huge hands hold her body. She liked how he squeezed her ass and she fukking loved when he did. She loved how he fucked her ass. She loved watching him throw hands.

...Kilo grams or whatever the man had it all in the best way all day. He looked like a gentleman. She was a book worm. She was pansexual. She had no friends. She was the dork the other people picked on. She looked like punk. He looked like he could throw a mountain. People gave them stares.

...Sometimes men would try scare him, sometimes more than one at a time. Sometimes people would actually scare her. Sometimes more than one at a time. He could look after himself. She could barely look. People said he was scary. She was scared of people.

...Only a certain type of relationship can look so strange. They're clothing didn't look like anything typical. They had made everything with the materials they hunted together. They were not "healthy", they were strong. They were not "classy" they were cultured. They were loners that were alone together.

...Neither of them said they were dating or in love or any of that pretentious bullshit, and that was strange to people... They didn't need to impress eachother. They didn't need to prove anything. They held no expectations. They didn't want to change eachother.

What they did for one another said more than four over used letters ever could. This wasn't love, this was what they had. Words were for talkers. They hated talk. Fuck what other people thought. Fuck everything but them.

She was his and he was more than she could dream to be real.

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