What my desire is I must tell him and soon for I know if I don't my mind will become even dirtier than it was before already it has started happening peril becomes penis breath becomes breasts and I can only imagine what's to come of it now cook becomes cock, pick becomes dick, and flirty becomes dirty what's a girl to do when she's ready to give her man a blow-job but she can't muster up enough confidence to admit it?
YOU ARE READING
dirty bradstreet
Poetrya collection of songs/poems that i've written about life,boys,and other random things *not intended for the "innocent"
