• jer00007 6w

    You were on my lips,
    holding my hairs,
    you sin.

    Hungry for the sin,
    my tongue dives,
    twisting you
    on every try.

    Ridin it wild,
    you cry
    "Eat me, baby
    make me high".

    Hungry for
    your sin
    I sip
    the salty feast
    dripping of your
    vertical lips.