You feel good when you are used.
No, not just good.
You feel beautiful when you are used. Thoroughly, wonderfully used in all the ways you are capable of being used.
You feel beautiful on a crowded dancefloor when you’ve sunk in enough bass to no longer give any fucks about the people around you. When your hips move in – and out – of time and your hands are in the air way more than anyone elses because you aren’t trying to dance well – or god forbid, ‘sexy’; you are reveling and celebrating life through dance.
You feel beautiful on the machines, when the sweat has started to slide down your back and your legs have got a healthy burn on. When you might be able to stop saying the lyrics of what’s pumping in your ears out loud – but you can’t stop the smile from breaking out over your face.
You feel beautiful in the arms of your lovers, after the first few orgasms have shaken you right out of your head and you’re spending so much energy processing the sensations you forget to think about how your stomach hangs, or wondering if she’s grossed out by the pimple on your butt, or if he thinks your vuvla looks weird, or if they think the face you make while you’re cumming looks so. fucking. ridiculous.
You feel beautiful during the beat downs; when fist and feet and cane and whip strike against you. When you jump and shimmy to spread the sensation out. When you crack open and pour your passion out for your partner to drink deep in tears and screams and moans and breath.
Your beauty is felt when you are in motion.
And that has nothing to do with size – it never well.
You feel beautiful when you are used.
So please, never forget to use me.