What is it with me?
There are men out there that would kill for what I have.
I am like all men.
Even when I have a good thing going on my eyes do roam.
I simply can’t help myself.
I should thank my lucky stars.
And I do.
I look at women’s bottoms and at men’s bulges.
The summer is particularly difficult.
Women in peep toes…..
How do I get through it?
I wonder how I could get them into my bed.
Get them drunk?
All the while I’m walking arm in arm with a hot siren.
Truth is, like most men I‘m a fool.
And like most men I would go feral without the her.
Unlike me, she is no fool.
She knows she has to keep me on a tight leash.
Lest I lose the run of myself.
The odd threesome is therapeutic.
And it’s her job to administer my medicine.
Her hand around my throat.
Delicate, soft, firm and tight.
Those long perfect red nails.
Her whispered words.
You belong to me.
A flick of her tongue.
And I’m on my knees licking her heels.
My eyes may wonder.
But my heart never does.
She is right.
I do belong to her.
A taste of her shoe leather reminds me of that.
She is a thing of beauty to be worshipped.
Others may peak my interest.
They are passing moments.
But my love for her will last an eternity.