I don’t say anything. I don’t have to. You know what I want the moment I lean back in the old leather chair. I love watching. You know that. I love watching you. The world shrinks until there is nothing left but quiet, rushing heat.
Like this?
The question is in your eyes and in the bend of your wrist. It’s in your deliberate, watchful stillness as your fingers graze your cock.
My face softens as a I smile.
Yes. Like that.
This post is for Exhibit A, whose image, “Apple”, inspired this response, and whose opinion was, as always, invaluable. For more Sinful Sunday, press the pretty lips.
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