My calloused hands ache for the end of the day when they can
run across your curves and supple flesh.
I hunger for you to whisper my name with a smile and ask me how my day
was; knowing it just got a million times better when you greeted me half
naked at the door. Long late hours are worth your
pent up desire that I must sate. As you
work my buckle saying hello, you savor the scent of the workday dirt and grime upon my skin. Not allowing me
to bathe, we fuck, enjoying the fact we
are the salt of the earth.
Photo Title: Unknown
Artist/Photographer/Model/Original Post: Unknown
Location of Work: Unknown
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