Wetter than Puddles #2

I feel your touch,
your fingers…
slide
between my skin
and the lace,
that pretends
to shield my mound.
I feel those digits
part my lips…
dip
within my walls
that ache to be
fucked so
lust rippling through
having me drip
having me grind
having me buck
I feel
the cumming
of a release
bigger than the last
sweeter,
wetter than puddles

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