My body is corpse of rotten flowers –my soul an angst ridden Sisyphus—Where’s warmth of a woman gone? When can I smell sweet Jasmine on your hair? When can I caress your hair with trembling fingers—your lips are sweet wine—When can I immerse on them—I long to plant loving kisses on you—When can I kiss the vermillion on your forehead, the sign that you have a husband. Adultery is the passion of poetry. When can I fondle your mounts of Venus, suckle your nipples like a child. I am fond of lesbian voyeuristic sex. How playful are they when they fondle their erotic breasts…How adorable are they when they sodomize themselves with their tongues…oh how I love to hear them moan in ecstasy.
© Copyright 2018 psiberite. All rights reserved.
Booksie Popular Content
-
Shelves: 7
-
The Accidental Mate 2- THE FORBIDDEN MATE
Shelves: 7
-
Shelves: 8
-
A Death Knight's Tale (Revised)
Shelves: 42
-
Shelves: 12
-
Shelves: 16
Other Content by psiberite
Book / Other
