#176129 - Then I'd want that bitch to make me dinner. Her face was thin through vomit A chemical sheen on her forehead Caked over a tan booth bronze Looking at her gave me a warm scrotal rush that was not unpleasant And oh to have my stiffened spunk hose Embraced by the sleek and shiny lips Lips glossed with Ultra-lip plumping ingredients For irresistibly luscious lips Glazed with unsurpassed shine Locked around my pole of joy In a selfless spaghetti suck of love.
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