Perfectly polished rose gold glitter nails against the erected darkened flesh is, without a doubt, something to marvel at. Reflecting candlelight from around the room, the skin dances in delight. Soft colors of pink,blue, hints of yellow created by the flickering light cascading downward to where true desire lies. The position of hunger sets heavily on tender lips. It’s devouring, the sensation of wetness and warmth combining to produce the elixir of passion. What lies in a name during these moments you ask? Power, my dear, power.
— Diary Entries —