Time goes against love. A word we swore to erase never to be used again. Just as the hours counted down we were impossibly drawn almost forced to use that dreaded word again. From behind our closed door it took only minutes to strip her completely free. She loves just standing there showing exactly where my hungry mouth was starving to feed. I love leaving permanent marks. Permanent or otherwise, it’s easy to understand why she asks for more of this time. Properly hooked in her corset pulling the laces so very tight important the garment fit perfect. Each of these sharp little tugs meant her breathing was guarded. These are the hours she adores the ones of devoted attention. She pulls at the the cord stretched directly over head lengthening her curvy posture. On tiptoes she’s perfect and balanced careful of her manicured toes she turns using her favorite words. This is the first of many hours the girl begs for more time, inched up against love she swears come tomorrow we’ll rewind and start time over again.