Sunday, January 15, 2012

her starvation-tale...

Then she softly let the curtain slip
And to me opened her chasm so deep...
I was looking at her slipping virgin sense
And felt every moment how terse and tense
My veins throbbed right there
Seeing such a beauty all bare...
I stretched her being on the floor
So as to help opening the secret door
Of her moans and moaning sound
Such a tempest in me I found!
O how good it felt to play,
The night became a sensuous day!
O how she hinged me incapable
Whispering into me her starvation-tale!











No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...