“Come over at around eight tomorrow
. .
. Gently, as you did when I was once alive, your finger plays across my lips, as if knocking on a door. Tonight neither the memory of our love, nor the not-yet-forgotten feeling of my hairless cunt in your hand will fulfill you
“Come over at around eight tomorrow
. .
. Gently, as you did when I was once alive, your finger plays across my lips, as if knocking on a door. Tonight neither the memory of our love, nor the not-yet-forgotten feeling of my hairless cunt in your hand will fulfill you
“Come over at around eight tomorrow
. .
. Gently, as you did when I was once alive, your finger plays across my lips, as if knocking on a door. Tonight neither the memory of our love, nor the not-yet-forgotten feeling of my hairless cunt in your hand will fulfill you
