I know you’re wearing it, you can’t hide it from me…..

Suddenly the comparison isn't just a passing thought, it becomes charged

I was standing in the hotel lobby, waiting for the lift….

Polished restraints hang neatly beside coils of soft rope….

Inside the hamper I’ve packed us a little luxury…

By now, the club feels less like a spectacle and more like a current…

When we finally enter the cabin, the world narrows….

Dressing up isn’t frivolous. It’s intimate. It’s brave…

As hands work over your body, easing tension….

At My feet, under My gaze and ready to feel the warmth….

I showed up at your office today, under a perfectly believable pretense….

We settle in front of the fire, blankets draped around our shoulders….

The Connaught was dressed for Christmas…

They weren’t looking for anyone, yet their presence spoke louder than any word….

The city is half asleep when I arrive at your hotel….

Yours is the role of the serving sub. Which means one thing….

I slid the blindfold over your eyes and just like that the world faded…..

You booked dinner like it was something innocent…

There is something deeply intimate about foot worship, something reverant…

It started with champagne always chilled…