- Shopping Bag ( 0 items )
There was something about the heat, which pressed into his basement apartment, a great lethargic beast that made Mark quiver with anticipation. The heat possessed him, making him feel at once languid and erotically charged, surrounding him with a sensual force, like a lover who would not be denied. One who would take without asking, take and take and take.
But in the end, it was Mark who would be the recipient.
He turned in front of a full-length mirror. "Whore," he whispered, biting his lip, then burst into laughter that tinkled and fell about him: shattered glass.
Mark wore a black leather vest, jeans so faded and torn they were almost white, hanging together by mere threads, and chaps. Engineer boots, silver nipple rings joined by a chain, and a ring in his navel completed his ensemble. An eagle, wings spread and talons ready to seize, adorned his left bicep.
A black leather messenger bag hung at his waist, filled with the usual assortment: a rubber hood with two small holes, a length of clothesline, a roll of duct tape, a thin purple wand that would administer a not-so-gentle electric shock, a butt plug, tit clamps, a small brown-glassed bottle of poppers, a tube of KY Jelly, and a wad of Kleenex.
"All ready," Mark said aloud and hurried to the front door.
A southbound el train, two blocks over, rumbled as it clattered along the tracks.
Posted February 3, 2014
Posted November 22, 2010
No text was provided for this review.