On her knees,Wearing only pinkStar-studded socksAnd panties downAround her knees,Her hands restingLike doves upon the ledgeBefore her,Hair in pigtails...And a come-hither lookUpon her I-dare-you face,She would look good,Decorated with the beadsOf my pearlescent sperm.Breasts are ludicrous,But lovely,Much like a pair of pantiesRolled down to the knees,No longer clothing,But ornament--When they do not give suckTo infants' needs,Breasts are panties, too,Rolled down to the knees.God or nature,Take. We sat next to each other on his couch and made small talk about my trip and other such trivial things. I probably sipped, or rather gulped the wine down quite rapidly. He refilled my glass and moved his large hand to my leg and began slowly rubbing from my knee to the edge of my tiny mini skirt. I continued to drink the wine in anticipation of his hand venturing under my skirt. He had to be able to feel the heat from my swollen cunt and smell my sex in the air! However, his hand continued to. More

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