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punching, kicking, wrestleing, just fighting
i bruise here a torn lip
your hands on mine tightly griping
and me thrusting my hip
forcing me down
breathing in your scent
groaning too loud
almost but not quite spent
salty sweat
licking it from your neck
your tounge making mine wet
a fight leading to a better track
clothes dissapier
skin brushing
whispers in my ear
my cheeks red from blushing
a fight not remembered
to you i surrender
- by Kier Dishonored |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 09/30/2010 |
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