What If It Was You? #4
Imagine you were in a bar on a Friday
evening, chilling with a pot of beer after the day's hustle. Then a girl walked
in, she was dressed up fit to kill. Your eyes and hers locked, she smiled and
winked at you. Suddenly, you were pumped and you seemed like you were in a
perfect rapture. You raised your hand and signalled that she should come over
to your table. In a second she was there sitting in your front. Your roving
eyes travelled all around her body and then stopped
at her v-shaped cleavage. The beast in you was awakened. You went straight to
the point, and she agreed. She had a few drink to keep her agile. Then you and
her were in your other room. It was a rumbustious foreplay. You approached her
like a lion and she moved like a panther. Then you both collided and landed on
your king size bed. Her both legs were up in the air and your eyes were fixed
on her honey-pot. Then you brought out your pistol, she was ready to receive
the bullets. But your master P looked like it was fast asleep. In your mind
that could not be possible because it was meant to be as strong as a rock. You
wiggled it up and down, begging it to wake up and not disappoint you at the eleventh
hour. But, no way, it fell flat, still. Then she looked at you, with a heavy
sigh of disappointment, dressed up and walked away. What if it was you?
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