Winds blowing cold whispers of snickers deeps as they tickle the beard of one
Snoring lead free he sat under a tree of talk talk
Trading apples the trees looked at Rip Van Winkle with laughter as he moaned in his sleep and rose a tree of his own
Cheeks flushed red he breathed sighed testily as he grumped and sighed sighed deep in sleep was he held
Years Years ran by as he slept one hundred two was the time gone by when he woke with a stretch of mighty thrust
Eyes wild with lust he sniffed sniffed and behold she stood naked as day sunning her creamy sweet
Trailing flowers she ran to him and called him sir do you not dally with me for a while or two or three
Smiling happily he stroked his long beard with sweet strokes as he rose higher higher to impale her fast hard
Screaming with shrill laughter she opened her thighs wide as forever as he impaled her with savage hungrily thrust of parch
Face buried in throat of petal he breathe her scent of lilies as he rode her hard with compelling memories
Laughing he watched her eyes cloud with recognition no more as she swerved upward to meet thrust by thrust as he cupped derrière of firm round
Howling hard long he came with her accompanied scream of elation full kissing her soft he slept the sleep of sleep until rendezvous again
By
Felicia McCaw
Thursday, March 3, 2016
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