harmonious liquidy salt erodes my cheek, and swipes my tongue to let it receive an erotic enjoyment of emotion. Those that escape my wet bumpy friend dries into sweaty clothes or cold tile making a sound like a rusty old faucet dripping or raindrops pittering from a windowpane. It’s tranquil and almost silent, so males can participate. I feel it eating at my cheek again, the cycle reburns. 1
BeccaB2
Farmers Enemy
by beccabOn Jan 11 2:37 PM 2005Last login September 9
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