Hay Ride

The barn doors creek open and I call out to you from the hay loft. As you peak over the ladder you see me. My hands bound above my head, hanging from the hay hoist hook. A hungry gaze falls over your face as you see me in my black thigh high fishnets and teddy. You look down and see a different set of tools laid out for your choosing. By-passing the toys you advance towards me. You place your face into my neck, your lips tickle as you growl, "I'm better with my hands".