Old camera, leather belt, and leather shoes

Behop’n Consent

Behop’n Consent

It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got consent,
In the groove of our moves,
where the night is spent.
Click, clack, tap, snap, respect’s where it’s at,
Every touch, every thrill, needs that mutual hat tip.

Jazz and jive in our BDSM hive,
Boundaries, baby, make the love vibes thrive.
Without that yes, it’s a no-go show,
With consent, we flow, with a bebop glow.

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