Old wooden chairOld wooden chair


This feeling so familiar. Hard, yet known to me. So simply, yet so powerful. Many men have sat in this old chair. However few know its true power, it’s latent potential. As the sky turns blu, My pride, isveçbahis my heart, my blu leads me to my seat. In her eyes this old wooden chair has become a throne, a symbol of power, Of trust, isveçbahis giriş and understanding. She is so beautiful, holding my hand, barely about to walk.  Blue heels on, and black ropes isveçbahis yeni giriş around her body so tight it resembles a goddess dress upon her.  She kneels before the old wooden chair, the throne, where her destiny shall sit and awaits.  Smiling I take my seat, and look at her with a pride and hunger that would make Zeus jealous.  I grab her by the rope pull her to me and…… God, I love this chair. In dedication for my sub, blu

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