P. Parkinson
@PansyWithPoise
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Pansy Parkinson #HPRP #NSFWRP #MVRP #21 🚫No Drama Please🚫
Joined March 2025
Crave me until the hunger carves its own religion, until you’re nothing but this endless aching plea, until denial feels like blasphemy.
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letting it hang at her side. “I thought I’d show you how deeply I can kneel.” The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be. “Just tell me where.” She said. Her heart was racing, but she didn’t show it. Not in her face. Not in the way she stood exposed under his stare in+
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the dim hallway light. No lace modesty. No apology. Just skin and black straps against pale flesh. She didn’t blush. She didn’t flinch. “Valentine’s Day,” she whispered, lips brushing just shy of his jaw, “is about devotion, isn’t it?” Her let the coat slip off, catching +
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then slowly untied the belt. The trench loosened. Not rushed. Not theatrical. Controlled. The fabric slipped from her shoulders and fell open to reveal nothing but garters tracing her thighs, silk stockings climbing high, and heels that made her legs look endless beneath +
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the cool composure in her eyes. He didn’t move aside immediately. He didn’t need to. “Valentine’s Day,” he said dryly. “How sentimental.” Pansy stayed put only inches separated them. “I’m not sentimental,” she murmured. She let the silence stretch — thick, deliberate — +
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door in shirtsleeves, composed as ever — but his eyes gave him away. That slow, assessing look that stripped her more thoroughly than hands ever could. “No chocolates?” he drawled. “I brought something sweeter,” she said softly. He took her in without speaking — coat, legs, +
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clumsy romance, restaurant windows glowing warm and obvious. Pansy preferred dim lights and locked doors. She preferred the kind of Valentine that left fingerprints instead of flowers. When she arrived at his hotel suite, she didn’t knock twice. Once was enough. He opened the +
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neckline dipped low enough to suggest, not reveal. A single diamond rested at her throat, right where his hand liked to linger. She touched it, smiling faintly. “Behave,” he said to her once. She had never promised she would. The city outside glittered with couples and +
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𝑼𝒏𝒘𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 Valentine’s Day was made for girls who wanted roses. Pansy wanted something else. She stood before the mirror, silk stockings clinging to her like a secret. Black, not red. Red was for declarations. Black was for intentions. She pulled on the trench coat, +
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Happy New Year, darling.
Happy New Years, everyone. & special new years to Pansy Doll. (Ft. @PansyWithPoise)
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A woman's sensuality is her silent strength in a world that often underestimates her💞💞
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