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Temporal Incarnation of Aphrodite Act Two
while playboy hallucination at my male member does yank key mud hood dill, where reality doth usually tank with muss elf feeling prick sans figurative or real shaft shank quite the opposite with wife acidly rank she frequently pulls my hair as childish prank knowing full well that action turns my mood sour as a crank I would escape, but no money in the piggy bank. Other times, her karma roars into tempest with rage lashing out like a half-crazed maniac loosed upon global stage on account of silent battles we regularly wage. I admit my own fair share of peculiar traits which only to private confidences t'will now relate keep on the q-t lest spouse doth berate. Chief among these oddities comprise lower gastrointestinal perturbations issuing from the ass which prompt innumerable outbursts of gas Ranging from quiet puff to a noisy, windy pass. After usage of toilet with a bowel movement large enough to sink a sub wash rectal residue from my behind with a hose attached to the tub. This couple resembles Frankenstein and his bride – argh what a pair she taunts when i shower, clean the rest of my body including hair dry follicles shaking head back & forth side-to-side through the air. There you now know foibles and unusual personal ways uttering that such antics how she plays like netted in a one-man fraternity undergoing constant haze pelting this poor soul with scraps of food, she flays until these covered with thick pasty gloppy glaze as verboten entrees Now laugh till you fall over and remain in stitches for days.
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Harris. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs