Mr. B

Wet.....

A state she often found herself in......the constant reminder of his words.... in her thoughts.....oh how he aroused her.....sent chills throughout her.....her body flowed incessantly.......craving him....his words...his touch.....his cock......his taste....

He had made his way inside her.....flowing through her veins.....like a drug.......at first subtle......now ......her appetite clung to his words.... his touch......and his desire for her....... her body ached.....in need.......wet....she had become a constant state of arousal......for him.......

Dicono di lei... "Una poco di buono"... Ma era falso...

Cos'altro mai puoi dirmi

che io non sappia,

vena del sol che sangue

dai alla terra,

sfilacciar quieto di

nebbia rifratta

tra l'azzurro del mare e il

ciel vermiglio?

Quanti tramonti

affollano i ricordi,

quante lingue di fuoco

sulle acque,

e tutti si confondono,

di notte,

quando, calato il sole,

chiudi gli occhi.