, I see you bebe.
Goodness you skeleton in the closet of mine,
See your adoration letters and that ass is fine.
I'm not paying for the joy, it's simply,
Somethings addictive in your sticky fog.
Our tumbles and tussles loaded with contact,
Know you feel it too this can't be fiction.
Pounding on all your tight botty edges,
No dread you'll neglect to trim the fences.
Couldn't care less on the off chance that they judge us,
what would they be able to state,
Simply need to point you where I please and shower.
We're both post sexual orientation nubile and horny,
No requirement for names, no rings decorate thee.
We have a more personal association,
LoveJuice is my most primal choice.
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