L A D Y // 33

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Amber places hot feverish kisses on my neck








Moaning lustfully; I run my fingers through her lustrous silky hair













Both our breathing is heavy as she lowers her hands devilishly









I hear women outside the toilet cubicles chatting drunkenly and misshapenly









"Don't worry about them," Amber whispers huskily nibbling on my neck









With a small cheeky smile she grabs some toilet roll and places it strategically on the floor next to my feet










Rolling up her dress, she lowers herself to her knees





















The yearning and anticipation for her lips throngs through my blood vessels











Closing my eyes the alcohol swirls through my mind in a dark vortex








All I can see and think about is her

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