The mouth is a parachute vacuum
I am ever so willing to take you all into me
Arms stretch in a ritualistic balance
Ringing room service
With your spill
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Introduction Please
- Matilda
- Spilt Milk is a place where confessions go when they die. It's the place where the candles never get blown out. Where the stocking is worshiped and the heel of the foot is adored. The cradle of old flames and new tastings. This is my collection of erotica. Old, new and blue. Bon appetite.
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