Full of Hot, Sticky Air.

It’s date night!
And I wrote a poem for my lovely lady.
You Feel So Damn Good.
I Just Wish You Weren’t So Damn
Inflatable.  Damn.
—NPX
 
Ahh, the sudden realization that you are fucking a rubber vagina (hopefully).  We’ve all been there, right!  Right?  Damn.

 

 

 

 

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