Grooming Our Love
I'll enjoy every thrust and scream not horror, but in pleasure.
“You’re staring, Mr. Potty,” I teased, telling him that he's doing the very thing he hated most. “People get ideas when you do that. I might get wrong ideas.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, biting down on my bottom lip like candy.
He leaned in close, chestnut eyes glowing like embers.
“What do you think I’m thinking when I stare at you?” he asked, voice low, almost a whisper.
“Something only perverts would think,” I giggled, flirty as hell, just like how I do whenever there were cameras around meme, especially when I'm talking to someone I want to please.
Bab Populer