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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hurricane Idalia
The rhythm of the rain patting on the glass coincides perfectly with the sound and motions of you tapping this ass, harmonizing strokes felt like a blast from the past, back to back fucking, I mean fucking you back like it’s nothing, pussy on a pedestal and only you can hold it. Holding me near and dear, penetration telling me your deepest secrets without any fear, only frequency I crave to hear is the sounds that our ecstasy makes, as we both finish I can feel your breath begin to shake, releasing dopamine together, nasty sticky sex in all this nasty wet weather.
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