𝓔𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓥𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓽

You could make a home under my skirt yet it is the ornate house you gaze at longingly from a crossroad. Surrender yourself to the longing.

Fall to your knees so you may feel the bliss of my heel in your mouth. Your tongue belongs on my boots like a moth to flame.

I stare right through you because you surrendered and let me into your mind. I have made a home in your thoughts, aren't you lucky?

Teasing and denying you is a game I find the greatest joy in. You fold so poetically.

I tease you the way a flower blooms in spring. I open up and lure you to me only to keep you as my servant perpetually.

I sit atop your mind, weaving my fingers through your thoughts the way I flip through and annotate a book. Your complexities and desperation...