Vegas is a Dom
Vegas is like a dominatrix:
…beautiful to look at and experience as she comes in the room, a display to behold that whets the appetite for what is to come.
As the day drags on, she becomes miserable and the senses implore for respite; the heat bearing down as the repetitive crack of a whip or the paddle as it raises the skin into welts of masochism. Citizens beg for release, approaching but never using the safe word.
And finally the evening comes,
…the whip slows, the tension eases, the hand replaces the devices on the skin. Goosebumps rise. The lungs swallow gulps-ful of relief in the evening air.
The sun sets and the evening is as a feather playing across the hot raised reminders of what just happened. Ties are loosened, wounds salved, and feelings of safety and satisfaction abound.
She is my present lover.
In the evenings, I cannot get enough of her softer side – this evening is no exception.