stared emptily

Slender fingers combed through the soft curls of a sparse muff, passing quickly past her heat to part pink swollen lips. A low relaxed gasp escaped between her painted lips. Her eyes, only slightly open stared emptily into the night. She retrieved the roach with a nimble roll from my fingers to hers, continuing the slow rub between her growing labia.

Lord Malinov, Song of Songs

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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