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Yes, yes... That muscle memory. The imprint of a lover's weight, scent. The heady taste of skin and fire and flesh.And here, it's more a case of perfection by the window sill. She is glorious. You lucky sod, bhp...
Such a lucky girl.
A taste that lingers, with such far reaching effect Minx. It might be the death of us.Her glory was fleeting, but none less splendid. That's my luck.Do you think so Ella? You're far too generous, but I welcome the thought. Have you a window sill to lean on?
Me? I'm not being generous. However, I'd like you to be as I play naughty and bend over each of the window sills in my house. I've at least a dozen. Up for it?
A dozen window sills Ella.. it sounds like a fabulous way get things rolling. Just the idea has me up for it.
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