I wanna wear black stiletto nails, I wanna wear Victorian-esque mesh shirts with the puffy sleeves and wear long eyelashes too the GODS and put on eyeshadow and take cute pics and post them on Instagram
Posted Jun 15, 2019 16:49 by anonymous
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But sometimes I can’t feel like myself. Because of others. “ fuck what people think” but I’m a gay 23 year old and even in 2019 I can’t even be myself. Ive boughten makeup. I’ve improvised by not going into a nail salon because of looks and my anxiety to achieve the nails and boughten gels and acrylics to do them myself. I really like the art aspect of makeup, I have a small makeup collection but everything has just collected dust. I’m jealous of the guys who can wear nails and makeup and just walk down the street in cute outfits just to buy coffee. I remember scrubbing my eyes really hard in my room so no makeup would stick on a Sunday night so my boss wouldn’t mention any eyeshadow Monday morning . My coworker would let me have some nail forms so I can practice the stiletto shape. I learned what highlighter was and bought Rihanna’s Trophy Wife a gold dramatic highlighter and wore it and saw myself in the mirror looking like an Egyptian goddess. Anyways I’m just rambling, I think I’m just still trying to figure myself out and trying to grow tougher skin.
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Commented Mar 8, 2022 14:10 by anonymous
Do it. My hot older sister was always sexy, had very long nails, hair down her back, and knew how to do her makeup and eyes (especially), but sometimes wanted to be and do out-there, excessive, push-up bra or tops even though she didn't need them, twice the length nails and hair, sexy-slut makeup, and go all fuck-me out. I'd go to her apartment on a Friday night after she'd worked on herself for hours, and she'd have her nails 4-5 inches, angled, blood red, wavy black hair extensions, a red and black push-up bra and short, black skirt with the slit up her legs, slutty makeup and lipstick, and just be sexy as hell for me. We'd spend the night having a few drinks, smoking a bit, and making her the absolute focus of sexual attention, kissing, feeling, peeling her top down, she'd re-do he slutty makeup over and over again, and dance for me. We'd have sex until morning, get up, she'd do herself up again, and have a Saturday repeat. Wouldn't leave the apartment all weekend. Enjoyed it so much that we'd trade off apartments, one weekend hers, the next mine. I had a drawerfull of her stuff in my bedroom, the makeup, nail polish, push-ups, skirts, and shirts I'd torn off of her that she'd wear again. If anyone would have checked that drawer, they'd have asked what I was into. Nobody knew it was all hers.