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Those A List Blues

The room is candle-lit, her baelist anthems pulsing muted in the background. It’s been another long, demanding day. She so needs this time away from the grasping, carnivorous crowd of handlers and producers and fallacious friends.

Naked and entwined, there is no rush to their lovemaking. They taste and tease, tempering the urgency. Nearing the edge as biting, licking kisses descend, she spreads her legs and opens herself to the release that will ravage her, brushing away the onerous burdens she suffers inside.

Alone in bed, she laments not hiring two girls before and wonders where they bought their shoes.

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