I love the pull of my hair.
His rough hands on my bare skin make me remember why I like it this way. Why after a few days of everyday life I start
to crave him. His voice, when he says the simplest of words,
perks my breasts and moistens me. I
realize he is my breath, my passion, my reason for existing in the first
place. I’m his willing and obedient toy to
do with as he wishes. His requests
arrive and I rush to ensure they are met.
I love this life and want for no other.
Photo Title: Unknown
Artist/Photographer/Model/Original Post: Unknown
Location of Work: Unknown
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