When a lady rap her milky thighs around your imagination like pretty butterflies and her wings flutter upon your shoulders. I feel insecure when she won’
t let me up for air though it’s warm, sweet, and wet there beneath the comforter an hour later. “Maybe she will prepare a nice dinner for us…” I am thinking as I sk her labias. They turn from cream to hot
pink on my red tongue. Her cltoral
hood has a home in my brown mouth. All that I care about is when she
cms in my throat. I wish that I could pour it in a wineglass and drink it for
breakfast. My eyes are bloodshot from sucking that tight
hole. If she pulls the cover off to let me breathe again, I swear I am going in. Then she can
pull the spirit from my hard ck. Her essence is heavenly like a cloud of cotton candy and I am busting through with hard rock. “Oh Scarlett I love you so much!” When she is near me, I can’t help but milk my dk. I like to roll my tongue around the head of her
tender clt. I like to sk the juices from her soul and taste her spirit.
