clean canvas

McDonald's claims to have a fresh cracked egg in every Egg McMuffin. What did they use before?

It is -18C. Wind chill factors are flirting with -30C. The cold has wrapped itself around the house and reached it's icy tendrils into the bed. I have managed to warm a small section under the covers with precious body heat. It's comfortable as long as I don't move my legs.

Tonight will be different. Tonight she will warm my bed for me. I will smile at her squeals as I do my rounds around the house. There will be hair to nestle into. Skin of her neck to breathe into. Soft breasts to cup. Nipples will prod gently into my palms. She will snuggle tight against my chest. I will press my cock against her ass and dribble on her. Marking my territory.

After two weeks, her skin will be white, pure, unmarred. Like a fresh canvas for an artist, she will lay her body before me for my perplexing creativity. Understood by so very few, accepted by less yet, I will perform and she will indulge.

For I am hers and she is mine. Within the darkness of my mind, she will hold the candle and we will dance, the dance macabre of perversions and the deviant. Flickering shadows bound forever, together.