Louis Icart - Modesty
Huyo feeling your run fast and primitive behind me. Your animal voracity after me, the moisture in your breath and your panting me wet. What I reach ... harsh and rude is your gesture. Disown you ... in your savagery ... your words ... your grunts transfixed and silent barbarian hands. I deny you ... but always held my sex with the ferocity of your being.
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