Your view: my nyloned feet hovering over your balls, teasing, striking, crushing. You look up at me, realising touch only comes with pain. My affection measured in how hard I make you flinch. π Would you accept your fate? Or try to run? π€π
Your view: my nyloned feet hovering over your balls, teasing, striking, crushing. You look up at me, realising touch only comes with pain. My affection measured in how hard I make you flinch. π Would you accept your fate? Or try to run? π€π