A proud man, he bends only to accommodate my will and the confines of our surroundings.
He rests naked and unrestrained with his head in my lap and the rest of him in my hands.
Stretched and folded, tempered and plied — he had been worked over well enough. My marks ruddy his smooth pale skin in places it isn’t already obscured by his graffiti.
It will take so little now to persuade him to wrap himself around my desire.
He is willing. I want.
More Short & Sweet…
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