Every morning he craved her taste and smell and she could not refuse to let him have them.
This, so this.
It’s on my left forearm. It’s a note my mom left me the night she died. Here’s a side-by-side shot of the two.
Deserves every note.
I cried and then I reblogged
I’m hungry for you.
You. Me. One room. One night. I’m not quite sure what I’d do to you first and second and third, though. I’m afraid I’m not any good at…this. I need to feed, but how and where to start escapes me.
I know it shouldn’t be so hard, but I tend to just stumble through everything in…
This, so this. So very this…
Concentrate babygirl, orgasm or unconsciousness… Which will it be?
Canon EOS DIGITAL REBEL XSi