I am black
The scorching heat from the sun of west Africa and the drying cold of summer
voice that are coming through my ear gate are the death songs
Why is she telling me all this now
she penetrates in my zone with no struggles
How wonderful she is to me
I have not seen a breast stand so elect in my life before
Like the ashely poles,
she almost bent me to worship her
Only her glance on me made her too thick to ride on me all day
love
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