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Dec 2019
I'll play your game of pressure, your gestures' my lecture, lesser only proves nothing's tender, remember I'm the student, you're professor, times are hoping we fly steep to die deep, wide ***** when my eyes open and mind sleep, some creep to peep the pleasure instant with no resistance, but I must listen to keep it sizzling, persist existence, here comes the vision with slick precision, I know I'm getting, this women's wisdom has me forgiving cause she got rhythm, although it's plain, this is a game men never win, cause when they're close, they catch a dose of hoes sins, so I begin to celebrate and guess her fate, she makes or breaks my gate when she participates.
Written by
Cyclone  22/M/Houston, TX
(22/M/Houston, TX)   
96
   Cyclone
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