Its bones press tight, restricting breath.
Lightheaded, they stumble, laughing.
Its edges dig in, reminding them of their place. They straighten. Held in its embrace about their waist.
Where my arm should be, but never will again.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers ~ Kinky microfiction ~ ongoing
Historia CortaTiny tasters of sensual, kinky, and strange tales for you to enjoy. If you like the way I weave words please do *follow* for more... If you fancy trying your hand at the prompts yourself, please feel free to play in the comments! (Play nice.) Origin...