Tuesday

fallin g out

Fall out men! cry the captains . Guzzled by roam and storm windows. Gantried pavements and gabled cocks, apses leading somewhat . Not, no no no. Come over she fingers the lace stuffing. Its a dummy not a ventriloquist your after to finding. With your willowy feet and fat eyes rolling your fine sex manhood on my widow's quim.


I love your beckoned peak riding me astride the widow's hair. She's sexed his name up the side of flanking thighs cried his name. A detail to rummage his body as they love . In the fat cloud's window and the moxy bed mirrored by hair pieces and armories this is the date they're after to disconcerting with their frilled suckling.