The eye through the lens *click* sees something I cannot *click* and I wait to be shown *click* what I wish to know. *click* I'm so exposed. *click*
Later, glossy prints laid out before me, lay me out before me.
I ask them; Am I beautiful?
YOU ARE READING
Whispers ~ Kinky microfiction ~ ongoing
Short StoryTiny tasters of sensual, kinky, and strange tales for you to enjoy. If you like the way I weave words please do *follow* for more... If you fancy trying your hand at the prompts yourself, please feel free to play in the comments! (Play nice.) Origin...
