She is lovely.
I just want to make love to her.
But she doesn't want a girl.
She is lovely.
Her eyes are dazzling, and her lips are the best shade of red.
But she doesn't want me to kiss them.
She is lovely.
I'm tired to look for another girl like her. Another pretty face that is able to tell me 'i love you' only when aroused.
But she doesn't want me.
She is lovely.
But the lips I'm kissing, the legs I'm worshipping, the pleasure I'm taking: all those things belong to another girl.
She is still lovely.
