henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

henriquejorgegentleman:

SmallNipples SmallerThanYouThought

Her-Gift-His-Honor

Words-And-Coffee: “…A Lonely Evening Smelling Of Books,” — Pentti Saarikoski, Tr. By Herbert Lomas, From Contemporary Finnish Poetry: “What’s Going On Really,” (Via Violentwavesofemotion)

Only1920S-1960Sgifs:by The Light Of The Silvery Moon - 1931

Baby-Faced-Blonde:goodnight World&Amp;Hellip;

Arnold-Ziffel:night Calls&Amp;Hellip; Time To Dream&Amp;Hellip;

Her-Gift-His-Honor

Her-Gift-His-Honor

Her-Gift-His-Honor

Her-Gift-His-Honor

Her-Gift-His-Honor

She-Divines: “I Am Aware Of My Power, But My Power Is Feminine; It Demands A Match, Not A Victory.”— Anais Nin, From “A Journal Of Love,” Incest; The Unexpurgated Diary Of Anais Nin (1932–1934)

Thealphawithin: Most Men Can’t Even Comprehend How Precious This Gift Is, When She Finds You Worthy Enough To Submit And Finally Opens Herself Up To You, When She Shows Her Gratitude And Obedience Along With An Insanely Strong, Ever Present Desire

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