Are you waiting for his tongue to come, and brush against your clean-trimmed hair? I hope he knows that curvilinear, gyrating space wont be the only thing hell taste down there. Stop to think about it: if we both flooded the same skin, youve tasted me, Ive tasted you, who knows how many places my tongue has been? ... Nothing ever made sense. Was I even real? I had all my faith in you, that you would never commit an act of deceit.
Posted on: Wed, 12 Mar 2014 03:39:58 +0000
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