@guynewyork / guynewyork.tumblr.com
Do you believe in body positivity for men too ?
Hell yes. We all get fucked up in different ways by people telling us how we should look and stepping back from it is ridiculously hard.
My body has changed quite a bit throughout my life, but there was never a point where I felt like it was the way it was supposed to be.
People come in all different shapes, sizes, and abilities and we gotta love folks exactly the way they are if any of us have a hope of loving ourselves the same way.
Men get told a bunch of dumb things and then often reinforce those ideas amongst themselves. And it's a delicate balance to be happy with how our bodies look and to do things to and for our bodies that feel good to us.
Woah, that's a long way of saying yes and not as coherent as I hoped to be.
But it's something I've been struggling with a whole lot recently, and if you have too, here's a big old hug for as long as you need it.
I have a free collection of short stories on Amazon today called New Erotic Fiction. They're all stories from my midnight newsletter, so they're a bit longer than I normally post on Tumblr and some are a bit intense while others are on the romantic side.
It's a fun collection of slightly more literary pieces than I normally post here.
Everyone knows it's that time of year when many people feel compelled to set goals to alter their body and restrict their food. The pressure to be thin is everywhere---it's the water we swim in. If you want to take care of your body, I hope this is the year you learn more about weight-neutral approaches to health! The Health At Every Size movement and books by fat activist Aubrey Gordon are great places to start!
hmm yes but also: it is not your duty to be healthy and for many that is as impossible a goal as being thin disregarding genetic illnesses we are all one accident away from being disabled or chronically ill i think that is also important to remember. just as being thin is not a moral good nor is being healthy and people who can't be either are not bad (via aceofblueheart)
My limited understanding of this situation is that they’re bailing out the bank customers but not the bank owners who fucked it all up.
That’s a massive simplification, but also feels like a possible step in the right direction?
(Tonight's free midnight letter is a filthy one some of you pervs might like. But it also comes with a 20% discount to my newsletter if you'd like to read everything I've sent out in the past two years, plus all to come.)
"Daddy, don't be gross!" she said, slapping me playfully.
"Me? Gross? Don't be absurd. What would I want with a little girl like you anyway?"
"You love it," she whispered, standing up and bending over me, ensuring everyone else in the bar got a nice view of whatever she wore under that tiny plaid sacrament she pretended was a skirt.
"I'm not complaining," I said, standing up beside her. I loomed as best I could, holding my whiskey in one hand as I continued to look down her shirt. "But seriously, kid, what's going on? I'm happy to get drunk on a Tuesday with an old friend dressed like a fifteen-year-old, but what's the deal?"
Heather crossed her arms and looked at me as if she might tear me open, read me, and sew me back up. I could see the gears working in her pretty head, and I wasn't sure if I should drag her into the bathroom or attempt an intervention.
"You're the grossest guy I know," she finally said....
Tonight we decided to fuck before we went out.
We went back and forth about where to meet up, but in the end we both knew it would be the roof. It's just warm enough out, and we're preparing for what's to come. We're preparing for the cold wind and the warm fires, and we're preparing for the inevitable pressure to fall in love with our one-night stands. It happens each winter, and there's nothing to do but expect it.
The roof was empty because it should have been cold out. We were both dressed for dive bars rather than dance clubs, but neither one of us paid much attention to our clothes. All we cared about was one last chance to fuck in the open air and not worry about frostbite.
We stood for a moment as we looked out over the city and for a minute I thought it might not happen. I thought the warm air and view might be enough, but when I wrapped my arms around her it was a different story. She was familiar and new at the same time and it felt like my hands on her hips were completely connected to the amount of blood in my cock. She barely pushed against me before she laughed and it didn't bother me in the slightest.
She reached a hand in through my open zipper and I kissed the back of her neck. I undid the buttons of her jeans and slid my fingers in between her folds as she squeezed me so hard that I screamed.
The only way to fuck on a rooftop is over the railing and she knew it before I said a word. She wiggled her jeans down around her knees and leaned forward before I could undo my belt. She waited like a saint, looking down over the streets below, and I watched from far away as I slipped in between her thighs. I grunted and she moaned, and the city dissolved around us as we fucked high above it.
Fucking her from behind sometimes feel solitary, and tonight was no different. Her face was hidden from me, and all I could see was my cock moving inside her and the slow movement of her hips as she thrusts back against me. She felt delicate and powerful all at the same time, and every subtle change in position was a completely new sensation.
We both knew we couldn't come that way, and for a while it didn't matter. It wasn't until she told me what she wanted that we decided to move. We were both far enough gone that worry was less important than lust, and when she said she needed to come, I pushed her down onto her back on the black tar roof. I lifted her knees up, pushed them together, and pressed back inside her to our mutual moans of pleasure. I tore at her jeans as I fucked her, and she kicked her shoes off into the darkness.
It wasn't until her legs could finally open all the way, and I could press down fully against her body, that we came. It wasn't until she reached a hand between her legs and I bit her lip that we came. It wasn't until she called me a name I can't repeat, and I told her to be a good little girl that we came. It wasn't until the door opened behind us, and she screamed into the night sky that we came.
It was the last warm night until April, and we both knew it as we shook around each other and soaked one another's bodies. We kissed and we smiled, and by the time we were dressed the rest of the night seemed completely unimportant.
-gny
From my collection of short stories, Simply Smut
This is good advice, but also why this picture?
It’s hard for two horses to be intimate when there’s an erupting volcano nearby. What’s not clicking
Reblog to help those horses get it on.
I tested myself again for covid and got a slight pink bar, so it's still there. I mean I KNOW I still feel bad, but at least it's working it's way out of my system quickly.
I did lose my sense of taste and smell last night. It's a very weird experience. It's like the power went out but it's during the day so you don't notice it, but something is off. I can smell a tiny bit this morning and I haven't tested tasting yet today. Had a rather active coughing fit in the middle of the night. I had been wondering if the coughing would become more prominent. We shall see.
I feel overall better than three days ago, but I am not out of the woods. I'm going to take a shit ton of garbage to the dumpster and maybe go sit outside for a while. I haven't gone outside since Monday when I got my mail. I have opened my windows to let in fresh air every day, though.
I'm glad you're starting to feel better! Hope you're back to chipper soon!
Here's a "friend" link to my latest story on Medium. You shouldn't need a log-in/subscription to read it.
If you'd like to sign up to Medium to read myself and everyone else there, it's $5 a month. If you sign up via my link, I get about half of that, which is super cool.
If you're interested: https://guynewyork.medium.com/membership
