Angel's under me, grunting. Angel's beside me licking caviar from a plastic spoon. Licking the spoon.
Angel's over me feeding one long-nippled tit into my mouth then the other.
Angel's on top of me pumping.
Angel's before me legs wide apart.
Angel's up me three knuckles deep.
Angel's upon me nibbling and sucking and biting, tweaking my nipples.
Angels smiles around me.
Angel's juice drying tightens the skin of my fingers and chin.
Angel slips off me.
Angel is out of range.
Angel wires that brother of hers who ought to be in the Army
{300}.
Angel wires her sister tuition for cooking school.
Angel sits opposite me at our table.
Angel drives The House to the Taj for a team-building exercise.
You are a good driver, the whores say admiringly.
What they mean is that Angel drives fast.
I text her; sometimes she texts me; it's almost like being in love.
Angel is in. I enter.
"Oh no, give me the money first!"
"Oh! Angel is coming!"
{300}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 11/04/2005 07:00:00 PM
•
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