I obsess over the presentation so much. I concern myself with the outer layers, the clothes and the
I obsess over the presentation so much. I concern myself with the outer layers, the clothes and the lingerie, the things that are used to hide what is important, or at the very least frame it. I obsess over them because they’re things, and things are easy to obsess over. They’re uncomplicated, simple. They’re just things, but they’re fun. It’s the people inside of them that I’m actually, genuinely concerned with, though. They’re the ones I care about. You are the one I care about. You who I dress and frame, cover and hide. You who wears those clothes so very well, who wears them to distraction, the kind that I want to touch and stare at over and over. They’re just things, but they are fun. I wonder how you feel about them, sometimes. I wonder if you’re quite as obsessed as me. Whether you get as much thrill in the wearing for as I do in having them worn. Whether the touch of the clothes against your skin, and the feeling of both having something hidden but also showing off, whether that gets the thrill out of you that it gets out of me, watching you wear them. My mind wonders. My mind wanders. The way you dress tends to do that to me. -- source link
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