THINKING IT.
Your skin brushing my skin
in confluents desires dictating standards,
And when these wills, you inform me,
will to have you not satisfied.
And even I wish that mimics,
changing their forms once again, I go insane.
Pleasure, the more and more increases...
Your breasts by exposing on my lips in a moment,
your desire and find you in tenderness and fury, love.
And as I thrilled to your hands,
take such a scenario and inundation, mad with pleasure,
I am replete.
marcos loures
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