Hunted 3 : Adult Poetry

Hunted 3

By: Julia L. Clark 

I am tip toeing over shattered pieces of glass not caring about the amoral of addiction of your smoke that Has lead me to the state of a motivational syndrome. I am redialing the numbers of your heart as you press your hands up against the curves of my hips. Your such an amour pro pre and my times are so valued and not wasted. Your bottom lip I am sucking on drifting off to vagabond is this my new resident as I am homeless at love and my heart has no where to live.Am I a querida of mistress to your new table menu? The nights of take my clothes off and run bare to your opening arms I am busting you down doing a kick door for you to understand my flow. I am making love to you lyrically stealing a home run to relax my head next to your heart beats of Quetta. Do you know how to rub massage caress my feet? Do you see reflections of my black see through g-strings sliding down my thighs of begging you to please pretty please touch me?I am a demon of disguise wipe your eyes and wake tha fuck up because it’s your phenomenal slut about to stick my tongue up your but. You think I am going to let you taunt me then hunt me with out any pay back. Behind each dick lock my tongue scratches your head back and make you posses me. You want to feel my Islands of Luzon sip your Don Perrion cum on my tongue of ice cream cones. Your phone is ringing pick me up and let your bitch of love her how I make you pour down rain. Take ass and cunt in your mouth as I am your rida die bitch. This square type shallow mind whore can’t cook up dope rocks they way I drop pop and lock cock of warm shots warming you up like Seagram’s gin. Now that you have hunted and taunted me then bring your ass on and fuck me then.

Julia L. Clark

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Derek C. Lane

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