I’m going to ask you to do something at the end of this.
Just something to connect us.
In quite a pathetic way.
Honestly, it’s nothing kinky.
I don’t want to build it up too much but I think you’ll like it.
It’ll just be a nice little moment.
Not that your life is short of nice moments of course.
I’m sure it’s bulging with enchantment.
That sounds sarcastic.
It wasn’t supposed to.
I’ll bet your life, compared to mine is astonishing.
Again, that sounds sarcastic.
I've eaten beans on toast for six days in a row.
That's the absolute truth.
I'm poor and miserable.
Despite that, I've still written this as a little gift,
from me to you.
And, if you do it, it's a gift from you to me.
This isn't about me being power mad.
I’m not power mad, I’m perfectly healthy.
I’m so healthy I know how crazy that sounds.
Really, I’m perfectly healthy.
Oh god, this all sounds so wrong.
Beans, misery, power, health.
That should be the title.
I don't know what I'm thinking with "Safe Hands."
"Safe Hands" means nothing.
Anyway, please, when the request comes, just go for it.
You’ve nothing to lose and, I promise you,
very little to gain.
And by the way, I know that some people
will be reading this at work.
Perhaps sneaking online.
I appreciate the risk you're taking to be here.
You are very welcome.
Still, you might think that because you're at work,
You're not exempt from this.
Don’t worry, I’ve taken everything into account.
Every conceivable thing.
Nobody will notice.
Ok, it’s just you and me now.
It’s getting closer.
We're getting closer.
It's really close.
Now I'm worried you'll be disappointed.
Fucking hell, it's shit.
Oh god, it's too late.
Here it is.
Over to you.
Go for it:
tip of your nose.
Posted by Michael Crowe at 6:27 PM