Why are you here? Back to gloat? Your teasing More cruel than any whip. You mortify with hot tales Of your delectable body Writhing under the fondling Of hot lustful hands. You, squirming, As countless cocks Impale you into The screaming, moaning rapture That I once knew. Am I right? You remain, tongue-tied Yet, you undo your dress Naked beneath To let me know Just why
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