Last night I had a booty call of the 21st century kind. I was hot, tossing in bed, surfing the web and looking for action. Perusing sites that in a satisfied state I'd never dare to explore. Sites that were dangerous and inviting. Sites that could strip me of my will, and thrust me into a world of leather and chains in which I'd lose all abandon. I was exhilarated by the thought.
I played around, waiting for something intriguing to catch my fancy. Then they appeared. Twin towers of pure unadulterated passion. I closed my eyes. The objects of my desire were within my reach.
"Come and get me..." they whispered. They stood tall, erect. They were lean, dark, and handsome. Wearing nothing but leather and chains. I lusted for them. I was restless. I had to try them on for size. I made the call.
It was 2 a.m. Credit cards accepted. They'd be at my door before long. I tingled at the anticipation of a big package.
I played around, waiting for something intriguing to catch my fancy. Then they appeared. Twin towers of pure unadulterated passion. I closed my eyes. The objects of my desire were within my reach.
"Come and get me..." they whispered. They stood tall, erect. They were lean, dark, and handsome. Wearing nothing but leather and chains. I lusted for them. I was restless. I had to try them on for size. I made the call.
It was 2 a.m. Credit cards accepted. They'd be at my door before long. I tingled at the anticipation of a big package.
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| Yves Saint Laurent, "Passy 90" boot
The "Passy 90" cutout chain boot by Yves Saint Laurent. Proving that sometimes, to this girl, size does matter. And that's that.
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