the best view.
dilettante…
Dear Gentle Sir,
There is a man who believes I pine for him. This couldn’t be farther from the truth: this is one of many stories he tells himself to make himself feel better – his hollow attempt to right the wrongs he’s convinced himself are mine.
I am not thinking of what was never there with him when my tongue swirls around your balls, making them swing, inspiring delirious pleasure. I am too busy bucking up against you as you drill that beautiful, thick, pulsating cock into me.
I am relying on our moans and my taut nipples and your strong hands and our bodies – straining with pleasure – to keep us here: now, right where we are, fucking and free.
Deeply Yours,
Lola xo
cara bello…
it’s the simple things…
that heal us and take our breath away.
bump in the night…
we dance round in a ring and suppose…
take, if you must…
… this little bag of dreams,
Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
— William Butler Yeats —