I. Love. Your. Cock. I love it when it's hard, when it's hot and flushed and you're getting ready to fuck me; and I love it when you're sleeping and it's soft and innocent against your thigh. I love touching it and tasting it and rubbing it against my cheek. I love it in my hand and in my mouth and in my arse.
How's that?
I hate to think things like "we were meant to be" because--well, I find it a bit ridiculous, to be honest--but it is kind of like we were made for each other. Like we'd been reunited after being apart.
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I. Love. Your. Cock. I love it when it's hard, when it's hot and flushed and you're getting ready to fuck me; and I love it when you're sleeping and it's soft and innocent against your thigh. I love touching it and tasting it and rubbing it against my cheek. I love it in my hand and in my mouth and in my arse.
How's that?
I hate to think things like "we were meant to be" because--well, I find it a bit ridiculous, to be honest--but it is kind of like we were made for each other. Like we'd been reunited after being apart.