Buns

It kept shaking, rounding up, you could swear your eyes felt it softness, wasn't that big, the boys say they like it thick though they just want it spongy and flexible when they grab it, but her buns portrayed a connoisseur of beauty, covered in Sinitic willow, silky, the steps she took, perfect,a little fierce yet she was scared, she turned and we screamed hugging but I held her a little bit tighter, for perhaps to still feel her bosoms on me, you kindled something, I ought to have said but instead asked for her company

She was in black,in cold,in a headscarf and we would chuckle and dance to loud pop, she's got a weird taste of music like me,it got weirder and we could swear it was the low-key music or the mood around us but I bet it was the absence of the discerning loneliness, she has cold fingers and how they massaged felt like listening to my fav song,alone,walking on the solemn view of dark trees, that wind scraps your skin by a inch and it's cool but colder and lonelier and sad

There was rage around us, it devoured the heat craved by our bodies,I could swear I felt like being inside her,like a spirit yet the sweetest thing I heard that day were moans,she made me feel good and wanted,you know how an ember shines like it's everlasting yet it'll be blown off in seconds,that's the feeling I had awaited and when I got there, it was getting clearer that I might be liking this side more than being straight