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I hear it. The beats, the music, the feel, the draw, the urge, the need. Move your body, shake your body, feel your body, need your body. What do I need? I what I feel? It rises. Rises inside me with a primeval urge only felt by lowered bodies. Need. Need. Need. Touch. Groan. Need. Want. Feel. Touch me, fuck me, hold me, dismiss me. I need you yet, I push you away. This, that, you, me, what is real? You. Me. Now. Later?
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Baraka_Guru
In my own personal experience---this is just anecdotal, mind you---I have found that there is always room to be found between boobs.
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Vice-President of the CinnamonGirl Fan Club - The Meat of the Zombiesquirrel and CinnamonGirl Sandwich
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