Fruit of our Passion
My lips, moist and cherry red Are stained by the fruit of our passion. Soft, ripe and inviting They laid themelves out before me. Like a child Iravaged them Greedily devouring every piece It's quite the banquet But one mouthful too many I bend over and my insides twist Asthecrimson blush rushes to my cheeks.
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velouria
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