Her soft beautiful form.

26 12 2009

It’s the cries of pleasure that keep me burning like a white-tipped blade. The curves of her beautiful form, leave me wanting more. But in order to have more, I must delay the inevitable and fuel the fire with more cries of pleasure, around the curves of her beautiful form. And so it goes again, until I can take no more! The fireman has put the fire out, alas I have a broken mast, ship wrecked all at sea.

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