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Freedom By Lauren Parker His fingers flow quickly and delicately over her ribs... she cries out in a pleasured explosion. Chills scurry through his ears, up her neck. They dance in their creation, claiming their space, their stage, their existence. Their purpose. Watching him with her brings forth the carnal urge to climb forth, up and to them... my arms, feet, hair, stomach move in synch with the man and his instrumental woman, and their child, their gift to me. |
