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Your hands are bound, You make no sound, Other than a murmur. I paint your skin, With lips and sin, Sense your rising fervour. I lick your **** Your juicy slit, Slide in my eager finger. Sword drawn from sheath, Pressed oh so deep, Oh what sweet, sweet, pleasure
0
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 6:21 PM UTC
Sweet pleasure
Your hands are bound, You make no sound, Other than a murmur. I paint your skin, With lips and sin, Sense your rising fervour. I lick your **** Your juicy slit, Slide in my eager finger. Sword drawn from sheath, Pressed oh so deep, Oh what sweet, sweet, pleasure
Written by
41/M/Derby
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 6:21 PM UTC
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