Saturday, December 26, 2009

loose to there




Loose to here's the pave to goldher harrowing fell timber in its great gossamer storm. Once in the off season her hair flew as the wished for summer . Bees and dune and fundamental cloth bore her churn. She was mother to the stormy and apple to her lovers. She was many in her taking to come around the forest. Her swamp baby ass hugged them all in to her weedy place. Come to me then I am mother to its witch.


Jill has no one like this so her cock's gun is sex to her fuck.
Her fucklove is listing her caboose. Off with her plainclothes back. Her back a narrown spoon kissedthe last reminder.