Leather, Smokers, Butch Guys

You just came home. You turn the corner out of the hall and into the living room..and you stop dead. He stands there…staring at you…not saying a word. You are frozen, can’t stop looking into his eyes. He already knows what he’s going to do to you. You can feel it in his stare. You feel the adrenaline starting to rush through your body, until your heart is pounding, and your limbs begin to shake. And still he stands there, staring at you. You’re shaking so badly now that your legs can’t hold your weight anymore, and you feel yourself bending at the knees, slowly sinking to the floor, but never breaking eye contact. And when you are at a full kneel on the floor, a quivering mess, then, and only then, does he reach into his pocket, his hand emerging with several bandanas.