catboys and smut

catboys and smut

Hello, world. The sun is up, we’re out of bed, the coffee is hot and the cats are doing cat things. I’ve been up since … I don’t know anymore. It wasn’t too early, but it was early enough. The sun hadn’t come up, but I was more annoyed that my music was off than what time it was.

Yesterday morning, I logged into my Fansly to discover one sub had gone buckwild liking everything overnight, and I shouldn’t let down a solid half of my two paying customers, right? So I made yesterday productive, and assumed a human form somewhat earlier than usual. When I finished, I spent the morning taking a couple hundred smutty pics. I don’t know why I slack off so badly about taking the pics more regularly. It isn’t like it’s complicated; men are simple and it’s merely a matter of clicking the booty-button remote with my jubblies facing in the right direction.

Shawshank came home at noon, just as we expected. I had just finished putting away most of the photo studio stuff. We made some lunch and he loaded up Skyrim. He’s playing a catboy who’s running around hitting things, a mace in one hand, a flame spell on the other. I’ve seen him using the bow a few times. I figure if he gets a taste of long-distance one-shot kills he might eventually switch over to a stealth archer. I watched him play out of the corner of my eye, making suggestions while I edited a batch of smut on my phone.

After a while, we headed out for the weekly jaunt to the town’s secondhand shop. While I found a couple of curtains and sheets that would work, none of them were anything I absolutely needed. They’re not going anywhere; I know where to find them if I change my mind. And while the wicker picnic basket was fucking beautiful in that vintage trash way, I already have a bigger tote to hold my fabrics.

Shawshank‘s back to work for a full day today. I scheduled nearly two weeks of smut yesterday; however, none of the posts have captions or hashtags, and consequently those things on today’s agenda. I’ll do my morning routine, and maybe perform some pantscraft. I’ll get my afternoon spin time, even if

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