Pursuing the yearning of your body language, my pace quickens, me slapping against your mound, as you urgently repeat “yes, oh certainly. ” Your primal soliloquay has become a catalyst to my arousal, dampness trickling down my legs, begging to be merged with your own. We beg you to guide me. I need nothing but to please you. Extra than anything, I want to fill you; to quench each of the thirsts that we’ve both had for so long.

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