Let's just talk a minute. My mind is on an imagination trip. I'm in need of dire assistance. I want you inside of me until you're knee deep in it. Hold on... let me finish. Run your fingers through my hair then pull it gently so I can feel it. Speak to me in your baritone and grow while you drill it. Wait. Lemme go change my panties. I
stay slippery wet during and between the times that you have me. Let your thickness expand me and when you beat my box beautifully, you're renowned my vigilante. I don't wear things that are scanty. Even in the homeliest attire you make me feel so fancy. I prefer you on the tip of my tongue like a name I wrack my brain to remember. And as the ember of your blunt glows in the dark, bitter breezes of December, we swelter. Furnace-like and slickened with sweat. I empty you out so well, you can hardly catch your breath.. but I'm not finished yet. You know I know your spots. Let my tongue agitate those places that get you oh so hot. At attention, yet again? Let me taste you until you drop.