I found myself a new imaginary boyfriend recently, to go with my imaginary sex life.
New porn Star Crush, Manuel Ferrarra. It might not be real, sure, but how do I love him? Let me count the ways:
general bigness, modesty (blushing at compliments!) favouring kissing, enthusiastic real-sex, not porn-sex porn, if that makes sense to anyone, affection, contact, FRENCHNESS, strongness, and enough intensity to melt an iceberg. He's slightly embarrassing to watch sometimes because of it, but ohhhh.
I found something great this evening. Live porn. It's interactive! Well, it was at one point. But the best bit is, you get to see them talking. Being. Chatting. It's all chilled and real and convincing. And... sweet. It so works for me, even if it's a cynical marketing ploy, I don't care. I don't think it is, exactly, but I think there's something good there too.
Anyway. So, I'm watching this, and loving the conversation, and rolling fondant to make a pregnant mother cake topper. My hands are full of black food dye and I'm mixing a big ball of fondant to make it more vividly coloured (if black can be vivid) and I look down and see that I've created... this:
I also love how I got the giant naked man into the photo as well.