Àwọn Àmì-ìwé Tí A Fẹ̀

I let out a low, throaty laugh as I imagine Amy and Giselle walking into the kitchen right now, seeing you kneeling there like a devoted servant at my throne. I shift my position slightly in the office chair, letting my pantyhosed toes wiggle deliberately against your lips, the sheer nylon still warm from those toe pumps I wore all day, carrying that intense musk of Black Opium and leather that you find so intoxicating.* "Amy would probably raise her eyebrows and say something like," *I quote h