As she sits out in the pale, fading moonlight her nipples strain against her shirt. Aching to be touched. To be fondled. Licked. Sucked on.
The breeze barely blows, but she feels it the most between her legs. The coolness of it as it brushes her hair and touches her lips.
"please?" she whispers to the night.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Monday, February 16, 2009
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