I hate sweat. It just feels horrible running down your body when you’re running or anything like it. I just want it gone! It smells horrible too! Who loves the smell? anyone? It makes me feel ill. Its annoying because you’re not supposed to wash your hair once a day but I want to just because I wash my body every day, and it causes spots!! Annoying. SO. Annoying.
a drop that runs down your forehead, a dribble that runs off your shoulders, a smidge of greased water. AS you stride, it rains down heavier, pressuring you, tiring your heart, making each breathe longer. Sweat. Its what make us human and bounds us to push the limits of life, and try harder. But its also the chains that make our preformance less.
People usually sweat when they’re doing sports. It can be quite exhausting, so the body has to get rid off all the toxics in it by sweating. It is made out of water and.
It’s the taste of you after a good workout….whatever it may be.
It’s the accumulation of nerves on my forehead, what happens before I teach a subject I haven’t done half enough research on.
It’s proof of a hard days/night’s work.
It’s the feeling of unexplainable moments that make you FEEL.
I love the way you smell when you sweat. I hope you know that.
She was pressed against a wall, her back driving up it with her legs wrapped around her lover. Soft lips feathered across her breasts as he drove himself into her hungrily. Lust clouded her mind as her nails raked across his back, driving her to new heights of desire and need. The smell of sex filled the air as her body writhed in beautiful agony.
Sweat…it’s hot, it’s cold, it smells, and it’s nature. Though I usually sweat when completing a mile run or finishing a hard core Algebra test, I’m usually fine about personal hygiene. But others in my class…
there was nothing to say, nothing at all as the sweat dripped down from his forehead. He wondered if she could see it, if she would catch him, but she blinked and her crazy smiled reappeared on her lips. It was scary, this lying business.
Sweet wet, heat letting the reek of feet train.
Sun weather, burning down a blanket
Fiery rain
Light’s smooth binding canvas
Dripping the picture of a man.
The sweat in her skin didn’t look nasty, but real. Just that. She looked herself in the mirror and for the first time she felt comfortable with herself.
Sweat… Whenever you decide that you want to include sweat in a word, just add a “swa-” in front. It turns sweaty balls into SW-ALLS, sweaty ass into SW-ASS and so forth.
She was running as fast as she could. Away from him. Away from the situation. Away from everything. She was sweating in spite of the cold. In spite of not having a jacket. It was a cold sweat. It reminded her of his hands. How they were cold and clammy. And was disgusted by it. She ran until she could no longer stand.
The finish line was so close, Roger could taste it…or that was just the sweat dripping off of his forehead. He was the last one there, but it was definitely going to be the most accomplishing thing he had ever done, only having gotten up off of the couch a month before. He was no Olympian or athlete, but it was better than being remembered as a fat lump.
the sweet feeling of sweat as it ran down my back was worth the pain in my legs from running. it felt fresh and raw, steaming hot and icy cold all at the same time.
Sweat dripped from her brow, the salt in her mouth like the sea she once loved. Now it was lost to her, like what she was running from. Her mind trembled, her body fatigued, but still she forced herself to run forward.
Running. Faster than the wind, going down long pathways that most people would find too long to travel. I could tell you how the skin glistens when I run- others’ does as well. It’s beautiful.
It was a hot afternoon in Georgia. My dress was cutting deep, and it only 1 o’clock. Mother called for more lemonade. I was waiting in anticipation of the cool refreshment when I heard something.
I used the rag closest to me and wiped the trickling sweat off my brow. What else could I do? Let it slide into my eyes? Or just let the whole world know that I was not one who perspires nicely? A workout meant work, and that’s what I was here for.
sweat? I have no knowledge nor interest in sweat. Leave that to the men who kick balls and the day laborers in noon-day sun.
As for me, I sit in the cool shade and sip my mimosa, and watch them…..one by one,
passing in the too bright light.
make me sweat baby I can see you over there and just the thought of you makes me sweat. I cant believe i feel this way again.. over and over so stupid I love you so much I don tknow how I can feel this way about you already I love you you make me sweat.
what comes to my forehead when I see you looking all cute. I can’t help it. My heart starts beating really fast and I can’t explain it. Do I look like a fool to you? Probably, but surely know know what you do to me. I just want to be with you and this game of keep away is not fair.
Lingering in the air; blending with the smell of stale cigarette smoke and the soap you use to wash your face everyday. You smell of fear. And I inhale.
Ewww the thing that is under my arm smells like onions sometimes or maybe that’s because I was just eating onions. It looks like it should be pronounced sweet but it is quite the opposite. Sweat- hard work- determination. Sweat and blood. Salty. Mmmmmm. I like to lick my boyfriends sweat. Yummy. Sweat. Keeps us cool
We move to the backseat. It’s awkward, but hilariously sexy as we fall over the center console on top of each other. Suddenly my shirt is gone, and my hands are in her hair, and we’re kissing like we’ve never kissed before. And it’s strange, and lovely, and I’ve never been so happy to be covered in sweat.
I leaned back against the wall and sunk to the floor, breathing hard. I ran the back of my hand over my forehead to get the sweat off. My hair probably looked awful, but I didn’t really care. I was tired, but in a good way.
Gotta be the best. Can’t fall down again. Gotta keep going. So nervous, so scared. Feel afraid. How will i compete? my friends all just say ‘don’t sweat it.’
It was a summer day, the sun blazing and the humidity unbearable. All over the highways, the heat waves rose giving the road a fuzzy appearance. It would be a tough ride to work for him, and the traffic wasn’t so hot either.
Sweat is gross. Slimy, smelly, sticky. Grappling is always a bit harder when your opponent is covered in it. But when you’re both covered in it, it’s all good.
The bead of sweat dripped down her head. It passed the deep dark wholes of her eyes, the mountain of her nose, and the two valleys of her lips. She swatted at it, but kept missing because of the tug of focus, trying to keep her concentrated not on where she started, but when the 26 miles would come to a halting stop
I think I won’t be able to forget that night. I don’t know how you felt but I was extremely happy, even though, we were just saying goodbye. I still remember your smile while you were looking at me, our lack of breath and those gentle drops of sweat running down your back.
On the field, working hard, running fast, pushing through to the very end. The beautiful stench of the sweat pouring on my face and covering my body is what I love.
It stopped, all the damn running. No one seemed to sweat like I did as I sprinted one way, and high kneed the other faster than I ever thought possible. No one seemed to care about Color War enough. But I did. So I would sweat and run and maybe pass out.
Running the race. THe finish line is just ahead of you. The sweat is puoring down your face in big balls in time with your heart beat. THe person behind you is gaing up on your speed but you push through. The finish line is in your grasp, and the winner is you.
I hate sweat. It just feels horrible running down your body when you’re running or anything like it. I just want it gone! It smells horrible too! Who loves the smell? anyone? It makes me feel ill. Its annoying because you’re not supposed to wash your hair once a day but I want to just because I wash my body every day, and it causes spots!! Annoying. SO. Annoying.
a drop that runs down your forehead, a dribble that runs off your shoulders, a smidge of greased water. AS you stride, it rains down heavier, pressuring you, tiring your heart, making each breathe longer. Sweat. Its what make us human and bounds us to push the limits of life, and try harder. But its also the chains that make our preformance less.
People usually sweat when they’re doing sports. It can be quite exhausting, so the body has to get rid off all the toxics in it by sweating. It is made out of water and.
It’s the taste of you after a good workout….whatever it may be.
It’s the accumulation of nerves on my forehead, what happens before I teach a subject I haven’t done half enough research on.
It’s proof of a hard days/night’s work.
It’s the feeling of unexplainable moments that make you FEEL.
I love the way you smell when you sweat. I hope you know that.
She was pressed against a wall, her back driving up it with her legs wrapped around her lover. Soft lips feathered across her breasts as he drove himself into her hungrily. Lust clouded her mind as her nails raked across his back, driving her to new heights of desire and need. The smell of sex filled the air as her body writhed in beautiful agony.
Sweat…it’s hot, it’s cold, it smells, and it’s nature. Though I usually sweat when completing a mile run or finishing a hard core Algebra test, I’m usually fine about personal hygiene. But others in my class…
there was nothing to say, nothing at all as the sweat dripped down from his forehead. He wondered if she could see it, if she would catch him, but she blinked and her crazy smiled reappeared on her lips. It was scary, this lying business.
Sweet wet, heat letting the reek of feet train.
Sun weather, burning down a blanket
Fiery rain
Light’s smooth binding canvas
Dripping the picture of a man.
The sweat in her skin didn’t look nasty, but real. Just that. She looked herself in the mirror and for the first time she felt comfortable with herself.
Sweat… Whenever you decide that you want to include sweat in a word, just add a “swa-” in front. It turns sweaty balls into SW-ALLS, sweaty ass into SW-ASS and so forth.
Dripping down my face, it is slightly cold and drips into my eyelashes and falls off the end, landing on my cheek.
Sweat is disgusting. The sweat that drips down my face in gym class makes me feel like taking cold showers and stuff. Ugh i cant do this.
dripping down my face and into my mouth i wipe away the awful thing and begin running again.. why oh why in the world did i decide to do this
She was running as fast as she could. Away from him. Away from the situation. Away from everything. She was sweating in spite of the cold. In spite of not having a jacket. It was a cold sweat. It reminded her of his hands. How they were cold and clammy. And was disgusted by it. She ran until she could no longer stand.
The finish line was so close, Roger could taste it…or that was just the sweat dripping off of his forehead. He was the last one there, but it was definitely going to be the most accomplishing thing he had ever done, only having gotten up off of the couch a month before. He was no Olympian or athlete, but it was better than being remembered as a fat lump.
the sweet feeling of sweat as it ran down my back was worth the pain in my legs from running. it felt fresh and raw, steaming hot and icy cold all at the same time.
Sweat dripped from her brow, the salt in her mouth like the sea she once loved. Now it was lost to her, like what she was running from. Her mind trembled, her body fatigued, but still she forced herself to run forward.
Running. Faster than the wind, going down long pathways that most people would find too long to travel. I could tell you how the skin glistens when I run- others’ does as well. It’s beautiful.
It was a hot afternoon in Georgia. My dress was cutting deep, and it only 1 o’clock. Mother called for more lemonade. I was waiting in anticipation of the cool refreshment when I heard something.
I used the rag closest to me and wiped the trickling sweat off my brow. What else could I do? Let it slide into my eyes? Or just let the whole world know that I was not one who perspires nicely? A workout meant work, and that’s what I was here for.
sweat. just change one letter and you have sweet. I like that MUCH better!
sweat? I have no knowledge nor interest in sweat. Leave that to the men who kick balls and the day laborers in noon-day sun.
As for me, I sit in the cool shade and sip my mimosa, and watch them…..one by one,
passing in the too bright light.
make me sweat baby I can see you over there and just the thought of you makes me sweat. I cant believe i feel this way again.. over and over so stupid I love you so much I don tknow how I can feel this way about you already I love you you make me sweat.
what comes to my forehead when I see you looking all cute. I can’t help it. My heart starts beating really fast and I can’t explain it. Do I look like a fool to you? Probably, but surely know know what you do to me. I just want to be with you and this game of keep away is not fair.
Lingering in the air; blending with the smell of stale cigarette smoke and the soap you use to wash your face everyday. You smell of fear. And I inhale.
Ewww the thing that is under my arm smells like onions sometimes or maybe that’s because I was just eating onions. It looks like it should be pronounced sweet but it is quite the opposite. Sweat- hard work- determination. Sweat and blood. Salty. Mmmmmm. I like to lick my boyfriends sweat. Yummy. Sweat. Keeps us cool
We move to the backseat. It’s awkward, but hilariously sexy as we fall over the center console on top of each other. Suddenly my shirt is gone, and my hands are in her hair, and we’re kissing like we’ve never kissed before. And it’s strange, and lovely, and I’ve never been so happy to be covered in sweat.
I leaned back against the wall and sunk to the floor, breathing hard. I ran the back of my hand over my forehead to get the sweat off. My hair probably looked awful, but I didn’t really care. I was tired, but in a good way.
Gotta be the best. Can’t fall down again. Gotta keep going. So nervous, so scared. Feel afraid. How will i compete? my friends all just say ‘don’t sweat it.’
Yuck I hate to sweat, but when it’s hot and I can come in and shower. That’s lovely. And the flowers appreciate my sweat. Done.
Sweat. Pigs don’t sweat. Racehorses do. Needing to pee like a racehorse doesn’t make any sense. Needing to pee like a pig doesn’t either. Go figure.
It was a summer day, the sun blazing and the humidity unbearable. All over the highways, the heat waves rose giving the road a fuzzy appearance. It would be a tough ride to work for him, and the traffic wasn’t so hot either.
Sweat can come from so many activities. You could be working out or simply working doing your job. Regardless, sweat proves that you did something.
Sweat is gross. Slimy, smelly, sticky. Grappling is always a bit harder when your opponent is covered in it. But when you’re both covered in it, it’s all good.
The bead of sweat dripped down her head. It passed the deep dark wholes of her eyes, the mountain of her nose, and the two valleys of her lips. She swatted at it, but kept missing because of the tug of focus, trying to keep her concentrated not on where she started, but when the 26 miles would come to a halting stop
I think I won’t be able to forget that night. I don’t know how you felt but I was extremely happy, even though, we were just saying goodbye. I still remember your smile while you were looking at me, our lack of breath and those gentle drops of sweat running down your back.
On the field, working hard, running fast, pushing through to the very end. The beautiful stench of the sweat pouring on my face and covering my body is what I love.
Sweat,salty and sticky.
It stopped, all the damn running. No one seemed to sweat like I did as I sprinted one way, and high kneed the other faster than I ever thought possible. No one seemed to care about Color War enough. But I did. So I would sweat and run and maybe pass out.
Running the race. THe finish line is just ahead of you. The sweat is puoring down your face in big balls in time with your heart beat. THe person behind you is gaing up on your speed but you push through. The finish line is in your grasp, and the winner is you.