Max, by eleanor maslen
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I remember your hands, sweeping up my thighs
You looked into my soul, through my dark brown eyes.
up to my neck were you gently kissed, i must admit it was
your touch i missed.
the distance was sweet, between you and me, but your body,
again, i had to see.
i ran my hands down your chest,
as you brushed gently, over my breast.
My hand caught hold of your belt buckle
and felt your skin against my knuckle
my breath was deep and yours was too
this feeling to me was all but new
Then i left you and walked away
somthing i regret more each day.
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Posted: 2011-08-30 15:58:53 UTC |
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2011-08-30 20:13:04 | lance |
hey this poem is naughty u have anymore lol |