Mila P

You can’t help yourself, can you? The second you see my feet, you’re hooked. I start by slipping off my shoes, giving you exactly what

The waiting room is quiet until I catch you staring. Your eyes can’t seem to leave my feet, sliding out of my heels and teasing you with

You are not the cause of this mess. You are the clean up crew, the pathetic understudy to what real men leave behind. I hold the condom

I walk into the room and wrinkle my nose because something funky is in the air. It cannot be my shoes, can it? I kick them off and the