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.
