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You slide your skin against my lap, Moving fast, the visceral clap; Your ******* in hands, on lips, the same, Take pleasure with ephemeral pain. Digging nails into my back, You scratch without an inch of slack. Sweat upon fogged up windows, Between your legs I do impose. 20 there, and 30 passed, *** and love, and life at last.
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Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
Backseat in Twenty
You slide your skin against my lap, Moving fast, the visceral clap; Your ******* in hands, on lips, the same, Take pleasure with ephemeral pain. Digging nails into my back, You scratch without an inch of slack. Sweat upon fogged up windows, Between your legs I do impose. 20 there, and 30 passed, *** and love, and life at last.
A [sad] attempt at ****** poetry.
mw
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Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
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