Inhaling a scent of darkness, listening to pulse of the pulsar, With the sundown falling on mahogany obsidian trees Reflecting in your eyes like crystal stars, In an abbey where shadows dance neath a shroud of twilight, With wings of taffeta silk. As trees shed leaves of magenta and gold Monks chant a litany of poetic paradise, And the censer cleanse the soul, With lusting pleasures
from Lush Stories - latest Sex Stories https://ift.tt/2PgNtGf
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