As much as I like guys in not very much, sometimes just an element of visual is even better. Like the above knee for example. It reminds me of when I first met The Frenchman. It was the same look, the same tear in his jeans. And his knee was the first place I touched him, sitting in the car next to each other, unsure of how to otherwise communicate what we were feeling at that moment. A moment I'll never forget, a feeling imprinted in my hand and heart.
Wet pareo on the beach wet butts
4 hours ago