my hookah smoke rises on past the moon at the tune of whiskey blues riffin sex...
it's a cool night and somethin's on your mind. an impulse session good n fine for heartset souls designed to shine. my hands glidin on soft skin you think imperfect, only perfectly tenderized by life. bare and sweet-like on my own cryin out a tender moan only I can hear. eyes on fingertips as they glide through every valley and ridge fatefully placed to grace this sighted fool. it's in my "cool" to see it all with eyes wide closed. in, out...teasin up and down. not too hard, soft grazin on your lickable crown. slick like oil and sweat combined until the uncontrollable writhe finds the rhythm in our groove...inspirin your move...to spill.
just this once...then everytime. blood fiendin for..."the lovers crime"...
~apollo
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