She's the queen of LegLand
She seemed ready to be chased from my dreams. She was stretching at the top of a small but steep hill tightly lined by parked cars. Her tank top was tiny and her short gray shorts looked like they were spray-painted on. She turned away and tugged up on her seam and slapped her exposed cheek. She looked back at me as she grabbed it tightly. A bead of sweat crawled down her hot legs... in anticipation. Then she was off.
It was evening. She had been gone for hours. I scanned the cityscape and there was no indication of her. It was getting dark. I knew her spidey sense would protect her. I consulted the force and found peace in the knowledge that she was in fact enjoying herself.
The complicated truth swirls into focus in the darkest hours, like the sediment at the bottom of a glass of dark red wine. You are sleeping peacefully beside me. Too peacefully. I am hard and uneasy. I wonder if you ever let your mind run where it's been taking me. I am filling in all the gaps that make me restless. You are tangled up in the arms of an innocent bystander. Your clothes are barely hanging on. He is filling you with delight.
I should find a quiet place to empty my desires, but that's not the ending I seek. These thoughts are not for me. I focus my mental powers, trying to return borrowed thoughts to their rightful owner--where is the force when you need it? I want to shake you from your stillness. I want to tell you I could love you through anything or anyone. Because I know whatever direction you go it will always lead you back to me.
I corral my cock between my legs and try to find a peaceful corner of my mind to wait for the woman of my dreams to return.
Nate Walton is a photographer out of Los Angeles. His incredible work and vintage style represents a new libertine generation with distinctly Californian flair.