I’m a thief. I steal kisses, hearts, and my lovers clothes. I’d steal books right off the shelves, each of my lovers is their favorite book to me. I’ll read each new book with each new love. When it’s quiet after they’ve gone, I’ll curl up in bed and let their favorite book tell me more than they ever could.
Today dawns and I’m up early. Master’s not here on the weekends, I do get sad about this but I understand. I love slipping into things he’s worn. Catching that last lingering scent. I breathe deep. Soon it’ll will be gone and I’ll be waiting for him on Monday like a junkie needing a fix.
He’s my fix. I’m his addiction. Maybe we’re just each other’s junkies? I can never tell when i’m close enough to breathe him in I cease to care about anything else. I pray he can forgive my moments of needy girl, or that I’m pretending to be a boy when I fuck my girlfriend.
When it’s all said and done, I’m his girl. Whatever form I take, when I’m out modeling or whatever. I always snap back to his little raven haired beast. It’s become my setting, I can cut through crowds, with this beastly personality. I get noticed more.
I’m more daring because I have him to return to.
Today, I slip on his shirt, which means he must have my Ramones shirt. He’s been eyeing it since we met. I smiled to think of splayed across his chest, I imagine him breathing me in. I have a shoot today, with a friend so they’re not expecting much.
That’s when I see them. His old dirty boots. I run over to them, as though he’s inside them. I slip my bare feet in them and proceed to practice walking in them. I feel clumsy yet powerful. I put on some Rollins Band and stomp around my apartment. I wonder if he’s feeling my energy now.
I’m all aglow with sweat by the time my photo shoot actually happens. My shirt is unbuttoned slowly my breasts exposed. My wet pussy is shot, spread and fingers. I’m not being shot, posed. This friend is shooting the animal I’ve become. He tells me I am beautiful. He’s never seen anything more amazing, reactionary, he thinks I could be a real erotic model.
I say thank you. I try to not blush, store this away. Master’s talked about making me a site that I could make money. As with all things related to him. I’m trying not to push. I want them but, I will wait to be given things.
Tom Petty was right the waiting is the hardest part.
I say goodbye after we’ve put the pictures on my laptop. I’m picking out the best ones and deleting the “myspace” face ones. As I’m looking at myself I start to see it. The thing that others see. I’m looking at myself not as myself, I mean I am me but, I can see what others see. My hand slips between my legs, his boots against my ass as I explore my wet pussy. Fingers fucking where his cock once was. My pussy squeezing tight around my fingers. I’m thinking only of watching myself, as I explode.
His boots fall heavy and limply to the floor. I’m pleased, and I can wait till Monday.