❛𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄...❜ | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟎𝟗 | 𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟...

༺ 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛 - 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍; 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 ༻
༆𝙿𝙾𝚅: 𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚊༆

Lace. To be considered one of the most delicate and sensual items of clothing by womankind to enhance assets of favouritism...whether you prefer it to or not, the decision-making is menacing. Elegant femininity in the creative form of pure thread, weaved into a flowery sensory ensemble to aid a silk smooth body part in looking its best, for your own confidence...or the benefit of others. Sometimes torn to shreds in the midst of the heat of a moment of savoured passion, and sometimes treated as a miniscule scrap of embroidered royalty, its posh stance and appearance easy on the piercing eye, fit for a Queen of Style sat on a throne of lust...

The nimbleness my fingertips possess writhe in the company of each satin atom I enjoy running through the length of my knuckles, the bones beneath eager to sense the sinfully attractive gift. After unveiling the item once crumpled into the bottomless abyss of a medical paper bag, which of I can vaguely get a whiff of the past woman's perfume clung onto it, the darkly sweet scent rushing a ripple of shivers northwardly from the small of my back to the tippy-top of my neck, curving around like a snake of integrity to wind like a vine of nature, the child of their superior holding more of a meaning as my body becomes a sensory playground from each crippling tingle felt in the body's pit, spreading like the gracious earthly grace of a growing tree, part of nature's divine process of tranquillity. A dampened thought of surliness passes through my mind's opening gates, disappearing out of its exit the sooner it arrived as my mental state automatically forces out any yearning aphrodisia connected to the two women who have brightened up my once dulled smile, especially thoughts of how the potentially fervorous woman reacted knowing the power she'd obtain by personally delivering such an item belonging to me, a guest in my home to conduct the field of emotions that is my face, picking apart each twitch turn and tell...

My prolonged efforts to occupy my body with the situation earns a severe stern death stare from my partner, sat slumped lowly in our recliner as his eyes scream and shout a thousand words as his mouth says none...silence truly is the most powerful of speech, for which whatever annoying imbecile stated so is now less tolerated for by my own standards. Once pulled out from the serene yet flustered state by Elijah's powerful stance, his toxic masculinity a needle in my side, the feminist about me boiling with rage as the grasp his retinas have a hold of me no doubt a goal of intimidation, my weakened body being fooled as the pariah once again as his alpha male persona thrives and longs to bask in the control like a rose petal bath steaming hot, a home like no other prepared for its owner to arrive...

I hate this man...if only I was free...if only, if only, if only...

"What would you like for dinner?" one would think a question so simple wouldn't hold a degree of animosity...unless you're in a relationship built on endless layers of it, any word mumbled slightly bound to create a survey of differences... "Maybe you should ask your poxy doctor friend...you clearly care more about her than you do for me." the internal sigh I divulge creeps and seeps deep down into the abyss of my belly, hanging there like a weight pushing down on my bikini line, a hold of anxiety my boyfriend continually holds the reins of on me - powering the sickening feeling with each trigger conjured. The childishly immature comment hardly surprises me as his words seemingly match the sour-dour attitude Elijah obtains. "What?" I shake my head dismissively, another mini sigh ghosting out of my gape wistfully as the air graces my lips in a chilling breeze as I toss my skull defiantly. "Why do you have to be like this all the time..."