Built from experience. Designed for practice
I never want to forget how his body covered mine and made me feel whole, or how his warm breath tickled my cheek as he slept, satiated. I want to forever recall the depth of his irises as he said goodbye the next morning or the longing they held when our fingers separated as we stepped off the elevator into a new day.
The jars are for your first assignment. Each day at the end of our session, I want you to write three things you’re grateful for. They can be anything.
Having a person who aides me in trusting myself encourages me to trust others. I see no flaws to this part of our dynamic, only success.
I guess that’s the issue with unrequited love. We believe it’s completely non-existent when it could be that we just don’t recognize love in all its forms.
The process to turn me on, to get my motor running is one that requires care and diligence. It involves a strict course of study that most cannot hope to receive a degree from. He knows that to keep me here, I need to surrender. To him, to his dominance, and his desire.
This is a work of fiction that contains scenes of gore and violence. Please read at your own risk. The wreckage is horrific. Broken glass and mangled metal litter the ground around the tracks. The twisted carriages, once illuminated…
A Poem about Kinky Shenanigan's
Her body is exposed to my prying eyes, just the prized parts hidden, those secret places made for exploring, enjoying. She wears a hooded cape, scales dripping from the red fabric. It glitters under the multitude of lights, sets sparkles in my eyes.
We walked the streets and toured the Colosseum, visited St.Peter’s Basilica, followed in the steps of those before us, young and old. We filled our bellies with Roman cuisine and enjoyed full-bodied red wines, danced on the streets.
I know that I will never sell this house, for all the memories it holds, and all the ones still to come. Mum wanted Grams jewelry, and I guess that’s for the best, some heirlooms have to be carefully passed on.