world of pleasures
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The wind tugs at my skirt and blows its cold breath up my legs, making the bare skin above my stockings tingle. There is a brief reprise in the downpour, and I take the opportunity to dash from the office to a nearby café.
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I sniff my arm, investigating, and realise that I can smell my recent lover on my forearm.
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It is lovely to have you here, a welcome guest in my little world of pleasures.
Soul Journal 