There
is an eligible dame. The right frame, the right posture and flipping the pages
of the right book. She stands by the shelf to my right. I hold my book higher
hoping she’d catch a glimpse of what I’m reading and come down and talk to me
and go out for a coffee, fall in love with me and call me in the night in a
hushed, moist voice to tell me she feels thirsty whenever she is horny and I’ll
get to fuck her afterwards.
But
sadly enough, she has a deep, manly voice.
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