Walking Wounded
I am wearing a very 'flippy' skirt, with a sheer and diamante-d piece that falls from the hem and not only does it rub ever-so-softly against my new wounds as I walk but also gives the passerby an occassional glimpse of pretty red pattern against pale flesh. Subtle, but not that subtle.
Oh, and have I mentioned the way the bottom of my backpack lightly brushes against the top of my spanking bruises... Swoon... Puddle of Zoo all day. I like this, I like the memories at every step and having that slightly glassy-eyed look of the freshly-fornicated, the world in soft-focus...
Oh, and have I mentioned the way the bottom of my backpack lightly brushes against the top of my spanking bruises... Swoon... Puddle of Zoo all day. I like this, I like the memories at every step and having that slightly glassy-eyed look of the freshly-fornicated, the world in soft-focus...
Labels: perviness
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