Speak
Your low honeyed gravel voice, pitched in sunset tones against my ear, is echoed in the slow sticky molasses drip between my thighs. Speak, love… Talk to me. Tell me what… Read more »
Your low honeyed gravel voice, pitched in sunset tones against my ear, is echoed in the slow sticky molasses drip between my thighs. Speak, love… Talk to me. Tell me what… Read more »