Midnight oils and the hinges scratching at your gravity, lost in obsession. Holding on to the rosary. Craving obliteration, “every last breath you take.” Pulsing the thumb of masturbation defragging my harddrive in the silence of crematorium. Eating the liturgy of your cunt’s salvation. In the stillness of my mind, as my penis salivates, tasting your bitter citrous, between your bloated thighs. Whispering to your labia majora. Your cunt being a predatory thing, like a paper crane, pressing against the skin of my insanity. You making me believe in god.
Rated for ADULT(18+)
Pulsing The Thumb
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Summary:
dark obsesion
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Wow, what a wild ride between darkest erotica and perverted religious cliches. Great work, Atticus!