Sinful Sunday: Wiggled lines

When I bent Arethusa over a bed, my belt keeping her warm and red, she couldn’t always keep still. A wiggling girl, presenting a moving target. But keeping herself presented, just the same.

Time gets blurred, red and hot too, when Arethusa was over a bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

3 thoughts on “Sinful Sunday: Wiggled lines

Leave a Reply to Mary Wood Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.