Friday, February 5, 2010

juice.

she had a tendency to go for apples that tasted good over those that more readily fit a visual storybook appeal. As such, she often found herself digging at the bottom of the barrel. Others, strangers in passing as well as the more local and lingering variety, remained generally unaware of her immense partaking of pleasure as result. Except, perhaps, in off-sided accidental witness to her post-orgasmic glow after devouring her treasure with all the ferocity she could muster.

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