Saturday, 5 October 2013

The guitar player

Drunken visceral sex, you fuck me and its sore, I can't remember your name, you've told it to me several times, but I can't remember it.

The things you do to me feel good, but you're a little much, too eager, to affectionate, it makes my skin crawl. It makes me want to leave an carry on drinking.

You do make me climax, big and bursting, wet. I don't particularly worry about making you come. I don't particularly care.

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