One Knee on the Sofa. Black Leather on Cream. Studs up to the Thigh.

One knee on the sofa, my hand on the backrest, my ponytail strict, my gaze direct. The pale upholstery only makes the black leather sharper. I kneel on the sofa – that is not humility, that is ownership. You kneel in front of it.

On the floor, not on the cushions. Head lowered, hands on your thighs, until I decide whether you may look up. Blushing is allowed. So is trembling.

Here you see how I use a sofa. How I use you is another story.