I’m Niagra—too wet, too much, too tempting to leave dry. - 27
Good morning, baby. You woke up hard, didn’t you I like that. Stretch for me. Picture my hands sliding over your chest, my lips brushing your ear. Today, I want you leaking by lunch. Think of me—wet, dripping, waiting—every time you breathe.
Biloxi, Mississippi, US
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251-305-5847
