Fire

I don’t think that line works on boys like me, not anymore, not with your pants on my floor and we both saw this coming, that line I mean, and we both saw you cumming, I don’t need to spell things out. I am tasteful and tactful like a cop with hands on your throat, what do you say, yes sir, pressure building. I have a loss for words when stern Thursday nights reduce me to, “Oh fuck,” because, oh, we didn’t fuck, what we did was beyond any Germanic language. I hear some tribes have words for your eyes your thighs your sighs we have yet to translate so come over. I can wait because I can’t see anything else worth this.

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