I love how he feels on me. That delicate, exclusive black lace — open in the front, open in the back. So much skin, so little fabric. And yet… he feels like even more. The tiny buttons softly rub against my skin as I move. Not meant to close — only to play. I feel every step. Every breath. And in between… there’s me. Raw. Wet. Real. I don’t just wear him. I live in him. And you? You wouldn’t just look at him. You’d breathe him in.