“Naughty girl…” he whispered as he pulled the soaked lace to the side
. .
. I scratch my nose which doesn't itch, an excuse to bring those damp digits closer so I can test the veracity of what just happened.
“Naughty girl…” he whispered as he pulled the soaked lace to the side
. .
. I scratch my nose which doesn't itch, an excuse to bring those damp digits closer so I can test the veracity of what just happened.
“Naughty girl…” he whispered as he pulled the soaked lace to the side
. .
. I scratch my nose which doesn't itch, an excuse to bring those damp digits closer so I can test the veracity of what just happened.
