The sweat beads on her pits are poetry. I want to see so much more of her. I want to to lie down next to her, head on her boobs, gently wafting in the fragrance of those sweaty pits as I rest my fingers gently inside that beautiful gash.
The sweat beads on her pits are poetry. I want to see so much more of her. I want to to lie down next to her, head on her boobs, gently wafting in the fragrance of those sweaty pits as I rest my fingers gently inside that beautiful gash.