On the Demise of Nylons (or why I miss Mrs. Robinson) Speaking as an unrepentant follower of form what I miss the most is the cinammon shade beneath the swing when she rhythmically walks to own city or suburban street; and, yes, the dinner, then, the phone call, the visit, and the single signal in her voice; then, at last, that first sheer feel, the long shapely peel of her legs. And now a word from my sponsor: kulfoto/new-pictures/47083/hairy-legs-stockings
Posted on: Sun, 23 Jun 2013 05:44:23 +0000
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