There is something about him that makes me feel awfully wicked. He makes me want to do shockingly dirty things. Maybe it's because he's so proper. Sometimes when I look at him, I want to tear off all his clothes and fuck him where he stands.
I think I am incapable of being casual. I am meant to be adored. To be romanced. To be worshiped and craved. I'm told that the fire burns hot within me and I must be careful to whom I give my attention because the impression I make can often be impri
When he sneaks in a kiss in a private public place. I adore this so much. It makes me all fluttery and buttery and open and silly and just so damn happy. Men, take note.
