When (and I do mean if) I ever submit and let my lover find me, it will look like we’re having a rave when I get that clap on light, everyone will know we’re fucking.
Not everyone’s reason for wanting a clap on are equal.
I miss those mornings where the house was loud and alive. The chattering of my children; the arguing, the laughing, the hurriedness of tryin...
No comments:
Post a Comment